28 October 2004


I've been thinking a lot about moving. Because I've only lived in barely two places my whole life (two houses in one block and a dorm room to be exact). Although I absolutely adore my little house. It's my favorite and I'd like to move it with me although I know that's not possible. Because I'd like to see something beautiful out of the window everyday. Or at least on the drive. You already know how I feel about New Orleans. Yes, it is fun, exciting, special, unique, beautiful, but only occasionally. Not when you live and work here everyday.

Or maybe I just see more of the wrong parts. I see ugly trash-lined streets. Decaying corpses of once-lovely architecture. Everyday I see trashy people who are unashamed. Yesterday, I watched a teenage girl walking down the street. She finished her bag of chips and in a flash of silver the wrapper was lying on the concrete. There was a trash can on the corner. And I'll never forget being stuck on the bridge behind a car and the couple proceeded to clean out their car by tossing all the trash and unwanteds out the window. In broad daylight.

Last night just sealed it. We were watching the lunar eclipse. Through telephone cable lines and air pollution and street lamps and around houses and metal towers. We could make out stars only when the motion-activated lights turned off in unison. It just felt awful and not natural.

So, I've been thinking about places. Mississippi is my true love, but I think it reminds me too much of someone for me to live there. I want somewhere pretty. Not too cold, but I want it to be winter by November instead of wearing a tank top and shorts to Thanksgiving like we sometimes can here. Somewhere I could watch the trees changing and not be distracted by crumbling buildings and dumpsters. Somewhere you drive past the best parts as you turn down your street, instead of having to drive to the city park to see them. I'd like people to be nice and know everyone (good old southern hospitality is priceless) and they have to hold the door for you behind them.

I've been dreaming of Los Angeles, but my sister says I would hate it if I went because everyone is perfect and rich and fake. A friend recently went to New York and said everyone slams the door in your face and they thought she was crazy for holding it open and saying good morning to strangers.

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