I have been thinking, my life is coming up to some decisions I just cannot make.  I know that sounds irrational, but decisions are just not something I do well.  So, rather than continue with this horrific vascillating, I have been thinking of a way to suspend the decisions.  Of course, should I find an Owner before all the s%*t hits the fan, then none of this matters.  But as we all know Collarme promises a whole s*#tload of possibilities but almost never delivers.  But time keeps moving forward relentlessly, and like it or not those decisions are going to smack me right in the face.

In June my baby is leaving to China for a year.  In August I graduate.  And then...???? right, that is the decision.  BIG LIFE decision.  But what if instead I just went on a trip, a long, long, trip.  I am a gypsy, I always have been.  Of course being a fulltime mom slowed that way down, but now all the birds are flown.  I have already been to every state but Hawaii and most of them lived in and have history.  But I could easily go explore south of the border.  My Spanish is better than functional.  It is not fluent, but by the time I got back I would be damn good at it. 

It looks to be about 7000 miles from here to the tip of South America.  Jungles, beaches, pennisulas.  I could buy a Shadow, my dream bike, and start down the west coast and then drive up the east coast.  I would be in Rio for Mardi Gras...clearly that has to be a good decsion.  14,000 miles.  You have to admit it sounds amazing.  I mean the earth is only 25,000 miles around.  I would be going a little bit more than half way around the world in distance.

These days there are cool hook-ups because of the cyber world.  There is this thing called Couch Surfing, where you can literally connect with men and women in 230 countries and spend the night on their couch for free! 

Son won't be coming back for a year.  If I left in August, and returned in June, I would  have 10 months to go 14,000 miles.  I would only have to average 1400 miles a month, which is only 50 miles a day.  I am thinking stopping to make a buck here and there, a connection, an adventure, it all seems entirely doable, and at the end, I am willing to bet that some door, some real possiblity will open itself right up to me. 

Maybe this is all being 50.  I doubt it.  At least I am not thinking to do it hitchiking, which is the way I saw the US initially.  They have some sexy ass leather chaps on sale.  I am thinking chaps under a skirt, and a halter top with nothing else would be just about perfect for South America.

No matter what though, this option is making me feel so much better. 

I have decided to start learning Stairway to Heavean on my guitar.  The first man I ever fell in love with, Monkeyman...so called because he lived in a box in a tree when I met him, played it for me in his box on his acoustic guitar the first time he actually invited me into the box.  The process of learning it will bring me joy as I remember him from so many decades ago, and will assure me that all things are possible.

It was a break through day today.  I felt as though a peice of the puzzle was put into just the right place and suddenly a large part of the picture made sense.  I mean there are still missing pieces, but the picture, the foundational image is there, it can be seen, I can trace my finger tips across and recognize it as me.

I keep trying to understand why, what...and yet, it is not like that.  It was not an epiphany, it was simply a puzzle piece set into place and the picture materialized.

Thank you for speaking to me today if you did.  I am trying to find me and it feels so good to have some sense of it.  Yes, it may been through a glass darkly, but now I am beginning to see, and it feels safe.

I realize that many on this site enjoy the idea that the slave is valueless outside of ownership and perhaps that is where the split has come in me.  I no longer can surrender to one who does not or cannot acknowledge my intrinic values and assign them the level of respect they deserve.

I have written on this many times, how a man who owns a bicycle has one level of respect for that possession and a man who owns a Rolls Royces possesses an entirely different level of respect for that possession.  However I have come to the place where I myself cannot enter into relationship with someone who is fool enough to first off not be able to recognize the value of a Rolls Royce, and secondly attempts to own one without having the assets to maintain and employ it at its true value.