I’m in a fantastic mood. I feel lovely and delicious, as if I’ve come at pudding time. Yesterday, I awoke in my sweats, three stars across my ass, and a wife beater. Last night, at 6:30 pm, I was still in those PJs. Though, I added a bra and wrapped a lemon yellow cashmere cable knit round my waist, giving the hand to the “never wrap a sweater around your waist ‘cause it adds ten pounds to your ass theory.” I was in Barnes & Noble with one of my closest girlfriends, scribbling on napkins and devouring words on pages of books. Barnes & Noble is one of my all-time favorite places. I’ve the ability to turn a corner and learn something new, discover something that excites me… the ability to be inspired, to latch a new interest, to want more. I believe the reference section should be mandatory for humans. Etiquette, grammar, etymology, famous quotes… let’s just say we’d live in a finer society if people hovered this section over thumbing through romance novellas or sci-fi nerdlets. And what’s up with people buying calendars? I purchased Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Demin by David Sedaris (my second-favorite storyteller behind John Irving) on cd-rom. I imported it to my iPod and celebrated the dirty looks I got on the subway this morning. Dude, you so can’t help snorting when you Sedaris it.

This ability to turn a corner and discover something new, to just explore, like a kid peeking beneath a heavy rock, is what it’s all about for me. I’m not eremitic, but I do enjoy exploring on my own (this might be because what interests me doesn’t always interest my friends). I’m always happy to go hear live music, stumble into a random play, eat somewhere new, do a trivia night, explore a new neighborhood with my camera, hang out in a playground, just swinging. So I clear out for Guam, set out on a journey without a planned destination, often in Manhattan. But I’ve never purchased a one-way ticket. I’ve never just showed up without a plan, without reservations or a list. I’ve never been on a journey with an unknown destination—well, if you don’t count life.

This makes me worry I’m too stuctured and neat. I want to go to Thailand and Vietnam, to New Zealand and Cuba but I have no one to go with me. I am afraid it’s too dangerous to go at it alone. I need to investigate; lord knows I haven’t taken any vacation time from work, which is even more bothersome than my not clearing out for guam enough in life.