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September 29, 2002
It smells too much
It smells too much like autumn here. That’s not me saying I’m better then Reno, that I hate to be here or anything, even though I know I can come off like that sometimes. People are talking about Halloween, the home that always has tons of decorations and a haunted house was all decked out today when I rode by. It’s time for me to go.
In good fashion, I’m flipping a coin to determine whether I hitch to Ohio before going to visit my grandma, or if I go down to Vegas and hang out there first instead. I’ve always secretly wanted to spend some time there, about a month should do it, I don’t know what it is about that city, part of me hates it but it’s so weird and fascinating, and I can live for nothing there and lurk in libraries and bookstores. Ohio would be good also, to see Aaron and a bit of the Midwest, but at the same time I rode my bike home tonight in the crisp air, the few scattered clouds and the streetlights, it was cold, pants weather, and I sit now imagining of beaches in Nicaragua and Costa Rica and Cuba, and the coin toss will decide.
I haven’t seen all the friends I wanted to before I leave, and that bothers me, because with some it might mean we won’t spend time together again. Maybe it was my subconscious holding me back, knowing that if I was to get even more settled here in this town, or perhaps any town on the west coast, then it would become too easy to find a pretty cool job and to put off my travels. I can’t do that, and I won’t, though it would be the simplest thing to do. I feel like I talk about my ideas for things to do, video projects and funny bands and such, more then I ever follow through, so traveling has always been what I hold myself to, and I do truly apologize to anyone I didn’t see who I should have and wanted to, but I’m flaky I guess, in my own annoying way.
The best part of the bike ride home this evening was getting lost. That hasn’t happened since years ago when I first started driving, but the streets were dark and all I knew was I needed to be heading downhill. I pointed myself and kept in the middle of the road, the houses on either side had light from television sets beaming out living room windows and the sky reminded me in it’s darkening of the sunset of an hour before, which reminded me of all the last sunsets I’ve seen in towns I was about to leave. The best ones dropped behind the ocean or escaped through the windows of trains.
Finally I came upon a familiar name, just one street over from that which I used to take home when I lived with my father. That one a busier street, I’d climb it after rush hour, breathing hard with a backpack full of books and looking forward to the where it tops out and I’d cruise down the other side, towards home.
I said goodbye to our family dog today, scratched her belly and behind her ears and over her tail like she likes it. I hope she will but maybe she won’t be around when I get back, I gave her a last good hard scratch and walked away, then I looked back. I shouldn’t have, it hurt. Sometimes you can’t not look back.
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Posted by bendan at September 29, 2002 09:03 PM
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