Not all who wander are lost
I hate Raleigh. I hate it.
I realized this today, driving on once-familiar roads, lost and furious. Maybe it's homesickness, I thought, because I miss the ease of Greensboro, with intimate knowledge of where to go and what is open when. It also could have been this nervous anticipation for what I am about to do and where I am about to go. But there's nothing left for me in this place. I have no attachments left. Greensboro is home, in every sense of the word, with streetlights and shortcuts and a boyfriend who lives down the street.
Last night Aliyah (the one who inspired me to take this trip in the first place) and I went out to a bar downtown. She gave me a dollar, and said that it was called tzedekah (good deeds). When you go to Israel, she explained, your friends and family give you money to put into tzedekah boxes (the Jew equivalent of collection plates). No harm comes to you- you are protected because you are on a holy mission.
Marci and Eileen gave me this beautiful travel journal. It's gold and fits neatly into my new backpack. They almost brought me to tears with their beauty and honesty. My last night in town, Allen and I decided to stay in. He made a "spread" of brie, crackers, pears, raspberries, and a killer chianti. Dating a chef is the best idea I have had in a long time. He has Mark's humor without his egotism; John's passion without his ability to hurt. Usually, I shy away from using real names in this journal, even when it comes to my friends. But today, on the eve of the new year and the new continent, I feel a need for honesty.
The journey awaits. See you in two weeks.
I realized this today, driving on once-familiar roads, lost and furious. Maybe it's homesickness, I thought, because I miss the ease of Greensboro, with intimate knowledge of where to go and what is open when. It also could have been this nervous anticipation for what I am about to do and where I am about to go. But there's nothing left for me in this place. I have no attachments left. Greensboro is home, in every sense of the word, with streetlights and shortcuts and a boyfriend who lives down the street.
Last night Aliyah (the one who inspired me to take this trip in the first place) and I went out to a bar downtown. She gave me a dollar, and said that it was called tzedekah (good deeds). When you go to Israel, she explained, your friends and family give you money to put into tzedekah boxes (the Jew equivalent of collection plates). No harm comes to you- you are protected because you are on a holy mission.
Marci and Eileen gave me this beautiful travel journal. It's gold and fits neatly into my new backpack. They almost brought me to tears with their beauty and honesty. My last night in town, Allen and I decided to stay in. He made a "spread" of brie, crackers, pears, raspberries, and a killer chianti. Dating a chef is the best idea I have had in a long time. He has Mark's humor without his egotism; John's passion without his ability to hurt. Usually, I shy away from using real names in this journal, even when it comes to my friends. But today, on the eve of the new year and the new continent, I feel a need for honesty.
The journey awaits. See you in two weeks.