For the next two days I’m staying in. It’s Thanksgiving and, yes, I was invited several times to various family dinners. I declined. There is nothing I love better than being by myself during Thanksgiving. And there is nothing I hate more than feeling awkwardly third-wheelish at someone else’s family dinner. Besides, it gives me time to recoup…and pack!
Next week is going to be a whirlwind, so it’s nice to be able to take it easy in the comfort of my own home.
Today at the bookstore I was reading the book: When Wanderers Cease to Roam: A Traveler’s Journal of Staying Put, but Vivian Swift. For the most part it’s a, rather lovely, art journal about a woman who basically spent her 20s-40s traveling and nearing her 50s has decided to stay put. The book has lots of wonderful watercolor paintings of her surroundings in Long Island.
It’s also a rather inspiring read, being a hopeful traveler myself. Although many of her travels seem rather impulsive and reactionary, she seems to have that same sort of restless angst I always seem to suffer from. I’m constantly looking for change in my life, whether it’s painting and re-painting my living room or, worse, jumping from one man to the next. At least travel will be a more productive, if expensive, outlet for this angst.
Who knows, maybe when I’m done I’ll have all that restlessness out of my own system and publish my own book.
1000 Bottles of Sand 