But that's not really true. Ever since we decided we were moving, though, I've been experiencing wanderlust even more than usual. I know I'm leaving, so now I want to really leave? Why not go live in Oman? (I have Oman on the brain because my father may be moving there). Yes, we could be happy in Oman. But no, these are the kinds of happy, self-obliterating and destructive fantasies in which I indulge all the time. So I'll just have to content myself with reading lots of Kathy Acker, writing, doodling, and making perverse references in my poems about how I'm going to go away somewhere to be abducted and abused.
Someone yesterday tried to tell me that I had an upper-class upbringing. I told him that he just didn't understand my international expatriate playmobile-playing white girl middle-class New England/Texan context. How dull.
I'd miss the readings and the poets. Terribly. If I lived in Oman, I mean. I may miss them in San Diego. But I'm trying to convince everyone that they should move to San Diego so I don't have to miss them. Selfish, I know. The weather is good, UCSD has great archives, and it's easy to leave the country--Tiajuana is just a light-rail ride away.
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1 comment:
lorraine, i know how you feel (wanderlusting's relation to the sadness of leaving a place). but don't worry, there are lots of great people in SD and we'll all visit you so much you'll wish you missed us. Hug! j
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