Greetings from the Road!
…sort of. We're making a rest stop of my dad's house in New Jersey. It's a lucky thing for Bebop & me that he and mom live 1,000 miles apart, because it gave us an opportunity to figure out how much more crap we packed than we actually needed to bring, and a free place to stash all the stuff we're going to leave behind when we hit the road again.
A Confession: I can't really afford this roadtrip. And I don't care. I reread The Little Prince in Delaware, and had a lightbulb when I read the part where the little prince meets the businessman who owns all the stars and counts them and puts the number in a drawer and pats himself on the back and that's it. That, I realized, is exactly how it looks to me, checking my various balances online, watching numbers go up and down while I click buttons… it's just a game that everyone plays, and it's a stupid game with unfair rules that nobody quite understands, and I just can't convince myself to take it entirely seriously.
There is absolutely an element of privilege in this: I can declare money meaningless and set out to seek my fortune because I can be perfectly certain that whatever trouble I get myself into, I'm not going to starve. If I - if we - crash and burn, we can go back to mommy's house with our tails between our legs and she'll be ready and willing to feed and shelter us while we deal with the rest of the consequences. What more could I ask in a safety net?
So: I have the luxury of being wrong. I can buck the system and search for another way and I don't have to leave behind or let down anybody who was depending on me. The only future I'm risking is mine, so why do people keep shaking their heads and sighing and expressing their fear that I'll never get rich this way?
I don't WANT to get rich! I'm not saying I wouldn't throw a ridiculous fancy party if I won the lottery, but since I don't play the lottery, well.
I've seen a seriously poor woman ascend to serious wealth - I call her mom. She's achieved a lot of really incredible career-related things, and she's as miserable as ever. I know she started on the make! more! money! path because she had two needy little girls to take care of, but now all the kids are out of the house and she's still trapped. I don't want that. I couldn't bear that. (But I'll take advantage of it, as long as it's there.)
Good thing I don't have any babies and don't plan to.
Also, I can't bear to stay in one place too long. And that's what I'd have to do in order to ever travel anything like the way I want to if I were going to play it smart, within the system the way I'm supposed to. Maybe I'm being too hasty, setting out this way.
I still don't care.
A note: this is not a quest to find myself. I'm not lost. (everywhere i go, damn! there i am!)
I just want to see what's possible.
So that's my story. I'm lucky to have a sister who feels so much like I do about the gypsy lifestyle. Between us, the system don't stand a chance.
(Although when Obama gets elected I will likely feel a renewed Hope (!) in the system, and our ability to change it without any drastic dismantling.
I've learned here that my abuelita is also convinced that Barack Obama is our next president and her certainty feels just like mine - it's based on a feeling, not on keeping a close eye on the polls or the pundits or whatever, but I've been sure since, uh, heh, pretty much since the Giants won the superbowl. It's a year for underdogs: everything I heard about Obama inching up past Hillary in the primaries was a confirmation of my expectations, and I could never get myself to worry much when I heard reports of the other kind. (Of course, I don't worry much about anything - if I know it won't help, I can find plenty of better things to spend my emotional energy on.) I almost hope McCain pulls ahead in the race for a while, early on - this is the same way I felt when the Giants were behind going into the half in the superbowl. A bit of gap to close can be the perfect motivation. For players or voters or campaign planners or whatever.
I can't wait to lean out the nearest window and yell, "I love you, America!" the second I hear it's official. That said - I am crossing my fingers. Hard.)
A Confession: I can't really afford this roadtrip. And I don't care. I reread The Little Prince in Delaware, and had a lightbulb when I read the part where the little prince meets the businessman who owns all the stars and counts them and puts the number in a drawer and pats himself on the back and that's it. That, I realized, is exactly how it looks to me, checking my various balances online, watching numbers go up and down while I click buttons… it's just a game that everyone plays, and it's a stupid game with unfair rules that nobody quite understands, and I just can't convince myself to take it entirely seriously.
There is absolutely an element of privilege in this: I can declare money meaningless and set out to seek my fortune because I can be perfectly certain that whatever trouble I get myself into, I'm not going to starve. If I - if we - crash and burn, we can go back to mommy's house with our tails between our legs and she'll be ready and willing to feed and shelter us while we deal with the rest of the consequences. What more could I ask in a safety net?
So: I have the luxury of being wrong. I can buck the system and search for another way and I don't have to leave behind or let down anybody who was depending on me. The only future I'm risking is mine, so why do people keep shaking their heads and sighing and expressing their fear that I'll never get rich this way?
I don't WANT to get rich! I'm not saying I wouldn't throw a ridiculous fancy party if I won the lottery, but since I don't play the lottery, well.
I've seen a seriously poor woman ascend to serious wealth - I call her mom. She's achieved a lot of really incredible career-related things, and she's as miserable as ever. I know she started on the make! more! money! path because she had two needy little girls to take care of, but now all the kids are out of the house and she's still trapped. I don't want that. I couldn't bear that. (But I'll take advantage of it, as long as it's there.)
Good thing I don't have any babies and don't plan to.
Also, I can't bear to stay in one place too long. And that's what I'd have to do in order to ever travel anything like the way I want to if I were going to play it smart, within the system the way I'm supposed to. Maybe I'm being too hasty, setting out this way.
I still don't care.
A note: this is not a quest to find myself. I'm not lost. (everywhere i go, damn! there i am!)
I just want to see what's possible.
So that's my story. I'm lucky to have a sister who feels so much like I do about the gypsy lifestyle. Between us, the system don't stand a chance.
(Although when Obama gets elected I will likely feel a renewed Hope (!) in the system, and our ability to change it without any drastic dismantling.
I've learned here that my abuelita is also convinced that Barack Obama is our next president and her certainty feels just like mine - it's based on a feeling, not on keeping a close eye on the polls or the pundits or whatever, but I've been sure since, uh, heh, pretty much since the Giants won the superbowl. It's a year for underdogs: everything I heard about Obama inching up past Hillary in the primaries was a confirmation of my expectations, and I could never get myself to worry much when I heard reports of the other kind. (Of course, I don't worry much about anything - if I know it won't help, I can find plenty of better things to spend my emotional energy on.) I almost hope McCain pulls ahead in the race for a while, early on - this is the same way I felt when the Giants were behind going into the half in the superbowl. A bit of gap to close can be the perfect motivation. For players or voters or campaign planners or whatever.
I can't wait to lean out the nearest window and yell, "I love you, America!" the second I hear it's official. That said - I am crossing my fingers. Hard.)