What an experiment I am about to undertake. There are endless lists of things I have wanted for so long to write and publish and generally shove out of the pit of my gullet into the world. They tumble around in my head day after night while I pick up dirty dishes, blow leaves off of the brick walkway in front of my cottage, snip flowers for my table in the garden.
"What the hell am I doing here." No longer a question. An expression of frustration.
The question used to be, "Where the hell am I?". I would find myself backwards in cabs speeding (in more ways than one) over the hills of San Francisco, and I would declare my question with a loud cigarette-caked voice. Everyone would cackle and feed me answers like drops of poison, all the funnier. I never had an answer. I could be everyplace at once. In my mind, I was omnipresent. At every party, in every fight, under every table, working every job, knowing everyone. I felt like a chameleon in a camouflage of social interaction. I could be the working-class diner waitress; smacking away at a wad of gum and pulling pens from the depths of her updo. I could be the club kid; dayglo raver or dark sparkling goth. I was the punk skate betty, the surfer chick, the dead tour girl with swirling skirts and bare shoulders. I was everywhere at once.
And now, I am back exactly where I began. The place of my birth, the Capitol of Backasswardnowhereshitsville. It certainly has its charms, and is nothing America's Most Boring Towns. However, it assumes the trappings of said burgs on occasion, and far too often. There is blight, ignorance, homelessness, racism, christian extremism, boredom, methamphetamine, and alcoholism in abundance. What saves this fair ville are its art museum, galleries, excellent library, bookstores, coffee houses, beautifully restored historic architecture, elegant lakes filled with waterfoul and lotus, fabulous new movie houses, and a formal garden filled with fruit and vegetables for the taking.
So, what am I doing here? Not to worry. I am gone again in 10 days.