I miss home. hard day. Leaving Marcea was hard-- 4 days with her, and we got along quite well. The house was comfy and cozy and she made healthy food and we walked her dog and we giggled.
Anyway, so to return to Sydney after that was a bit startling. I just so truly hate being in the city. It's tied up in my bones, it's visceral. So, of course, it promotes contemplation-- wondering (again)-- just what the *u** am I doing here? Spending all this money-- on myself-- without my family??????? If I let it sweep over me, I could break out in tears here on this youth hostel computer. In front of sassy 19 year-olds who are flitting across the world adventurously. The only people I seem to make true eye contact with are the older ones, the heavy women, and the lonely homely girls, off reading in corners. Or, couples who want their picture taken. Or, people who need napkins.
I know I shouldn't be complaining. I should be enjoying every second and soaking up the moment, but cousin Jenny wrote an email that summarized a lot of events that I chose to do concurrently, and small wonder I would be overwhelmed and homesick and ready to cry at an instant. Knowing that you own an experience does not dissipate the feelings. It probably intensifies them.
I'm optimistic that things will perk up when I'm off to Heron Island (Great Barrier Reef). It should be lovely and amazing there, and if nothing else, the beauty of the reef and being part of a school group will jostle me out of this rut.
It's the rain, too. Makes walking around difficult. I can't stop thinking about Carrie in Sex and the City (An American in Paris, part deux, episode 96). She's talking to Miranda on the phone, saying that it's hard, she doesn't know the language, it's rainy so it's difficult to walk around, she's been to every museum several times, and Alexandr is working so she's alone most of the time. She says she saw a group of women in a cafe window, and it reminded her of their group. Then she starts to weep a bit, and she says, "I just miss you guys." Miranda says, "Come. Home." And, Carrie says, "No. I just got here! This is insane; I've wanted to come to Paris all my life!"
So, here I am in Paris. Eating croissants alone on the city streets. Stepping in dog shi*. Missing you guys. I know what you're saying, and I believe you on some level, and I know that if I returned tonight I'd regret it-- probably for the rest of my life.
But, tonight, I'll do some moldy laundry, watch Australia, and try to sleep in a hostel room with 3 other women. I hope they're not party animals. I'm 45, and the party's over.
Love you.
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