Friday, January 07, 2005My Imminent Departure
The weirdest part of any trip is the bit just before you leave. In a matter of mere days, I'm leaving Memphis and returning to my old college in Vermont, almost exactly ten years after I first made the trip. My mother and my grandfather drove me and my then-boyfriend up; the region was experiencing its annual indian summer, and the whole southern end of the state was so thickly blanketed with fog that I didn't get my first good look at my new home for two days.
I've been telling myself that this move is "six months away" for so long (seven months at least) that it has somewhat taken me by surprise that this weekend is my last in Memphis. My psyche always presents me with a few days of anxiety and trepidation before these moves -- before Anchorage, before London, before coming back from London, before LA -- and by now I've gotten very good at just taking the necessary plunge. But it's strange that as many time as I've done this, it's always there. You'd think I'd have gotten used to it by now.
I've still got a lot of organizing and cleaning and packing to do; I'm behind where I theoretically should be, but not behind what I know my actual, real-world schedule is. (I won't do my last packing until the morning I set off; I never do.) Then I've got a three-day drive, and then I will attempt to settle in on a campus with many memories, where I don't know anyone, and where everyone is either considerably older or younger than I am.
Once I get there and get my situation in order, this blog will continue as it has -- my eventual posting patterns may change, but the blog won't go anywhere. Unless, of course, Alberto Gonzales comes and tosses me in Gitmo for writing that he sucks monkey cocks. Which he does.