Cleveland isn't Prague

A friend posted "Cleveland isn't Prague" as his Facebook status. It kind of stopped me in my tracks because it just reinforced the fact that I haven't done the world traveling I had expected to when I was younger.

And it sucks.

And just to clarify, I was referring to Prague, not Cleveland.

I have done a little traveling. And, as an actor, I've had the opportunity to live in different communities, not just work there. Most of these places are limited to the east coast of the US - Maine to Florida. But I did have the opportunity to spend a July in Alaska and it was quite the learning experience. Although, as much as I got to see in Alaska, we never stayed in one place for more than two or three days.

Outside of the US I've been to Canada, Mexico, the Carribbean, England, Paris, and Northern Germany. And none of those in recent memory.

My husband travels for work. He's been all over the world: Europe, Asia (China and India), Australia and New Zealand, Africa. While I stay here in New England, holding down the fort and washing dishes.

That part sucks too.

So I say to you would-be travelers: Go! Travel while you're young and have the time and no committments. Don't wait, because it may not happen. You may find yourself middle-aged and renewing an unstamped passport, and using a picture you really don't want to have to live with for the next 10 years.

That part sucks most of all.

Speaking of Squirrels

The squirrels around here have a death wish. Either that or they're so wired on crack that they're not even aware that they are crossing the street.

IN FRONT OF A CAR

I have an inherent disgust of killing anything that I'm not eating and wasn't already dead to begin with.

Out here in the pseudo-country there are plenty of narrow roads and foliage cover for little critters to dart out of and into traffic. Now, granted, their brains and smaller than most of the food they eat, but you would think there would have been some evolutionary growth or understanding of car = dead.

Maybe it's our crappy school system so that, evolutionarily speaking, the squirrels are as far behind in understanding the fatality of a close encounter with a car, as my son was in reading. He's caught up thanks to an aggressive campaign on our part which had little to do with the school in question. I speak of external remediation.

I also digress.

The plain, unvarnished truth of the matter is: this is a backward town. With backward squirrels. And for that matter the chipmunks aren't doing much to help the perception of unaware rodents.

Seems to me, the only thing they're actually good at is digging holes in our yard. There are accidents waiting to happen all over the freakin' place. And we all know who it is that will end up in ER.

Maybe, when I'm headed for the ER, I just won't swerve to avoid an ill-advised romp across the road. Maybe I'll just hit it.

Of course, then I'll need a sedative for the guilt. Sedatives are not necessarily bad things.

Blessing My Nest

My horoscope yesterday told me to "bless my nest" and "dedicate a room or corner as my office". I'd been planning to do just that, and before I knew it, I was cleaning out my closet as a way of procrastinating on the hard stuff: i.e, moving furniture and cleaning away four years of whatever had been growing/living in the previously inaccessible space.

I'd even made a special trip that morning, before I read the daily prediction, and purchased a desk blotter. It's more of a protector so I can put my computer on the surface of the table in use without scratching it.

Right in the middle of my cleaning and purging efforts, the overhead light died on me. The room I was working in is one of the larger rooms in our modest home and has a high ceiling and only one window which faces north. It was also overcast today, so when the light went out I truly was in the dark. Usually when I'm in the dark it has nothing to do with the ambient light.

I am a "natural" blonde after all.

Lucky for me there are other light sources in the room and I continued until I got tired of trying to figure out what to do with all the crap.

After moving stuff around, I realized that the original layout would work the best if the table was just pulled away from the tight little corner.

Now if only my husband would move out his crap, we'd have a nice serene space that might be conducive to some creativity.

I can dream can't I?