March 11, 2004 04:28 PM
Something about travel seems to. Broaden the mind? Not so much so. But spur some thinking.
The west coast. Just in general. Reminds me that, while everything else in my life is right, I'm in the wrong story. No, I'm in the wrong woods. The story makes sense, but the location doesn't.
There's a whole movement of radical fat grrrls in Portland. There's a naval base with palm trees and suburbs that seem like the model of what suburbs do in San Diego (which is also like Baltimore but warmer). There's a gay community still busy celebrating love in San Francisco. There's brilliant music in Vancouver and rocking out feminists in Olympia. Friends and other welcome in Seattle.
On the rare occasions when I make it out to the left coast, I remember this. I have a fondness for the southeast and for the northern cities whose weather would have me mildly depressed from November to March. But on some level, I do not belong here.
This fills me with promise. That things could be so good, and I don't even belong here. How much better might life be? What could be on offer? More, apparently. How much more?
I don't see me acting on this promise immediately. I investigate.
And. I think a bit more investigation is called for.
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