Okay, April 27th.  Last day sleeping at my house until June 2nd.  I wonder if I'll be a different person on the other end. 

I do.  

And I guess I hope so.

My whole life, I feel like I've been waiting for something big to happen ... and it sort of never has.  It lurks in my mind, this melodramatic notion left over from childhood when I thought/fantasized that I was being watched/followed.  I recall walking home from St Col's up Chestnut Hill Ave., and having this running internal 3rd person narrative going, of everything I was doing, as if it was a documentary.  Yes, a weird child.  Unhelped, I'm sure, by the reams of 60's reruns tainting my young brain (Get Smart, Gilligan's Island, Hogan's Heroes, Brady Bunch, Dragnet, Batman, F Troop, Gomer Pyle, Lost In Space, et effing cetera). 

I'm waiting, still, at age (just turned) 47 (too bad that when you reach this age-sphere, 'just turned' doesn't mean shit) for the big 'it' to land, square on my damned head. 

Hello?  It?  Where the hell are you?

I haven't lived a standard/typical life (married/kids), so I suppose I haven't had the thing that defines/occupies/dominates most people's lives, and therefore, free time.  Is that why?  Is this just an empty hole speaking?  Or am I really 'different' as I used to think, as a kid? 

But don't all kids think that?  That they're 'special' and 'unique'?  I think I actually believed it.

I was unique, in one way.  I never washed, never brushed my teeth or hair, developed a wicked case of scalp psoriasis, and both wet the bed and sucked my thumb until the age of nine.  A monkey child.  It's amazing I learned to freaking speak.

But anyway.

I've wanted this blog to be a snapshot of my thoughts and feelings on this crazyarse trip, and tonite I sit down on the eve of it, and this is what comes out.  Assinine gibberish, but then, some of these entries have been a bit too fact based.

I know ideally, I want to be able to look back on this blog thing and get a snapshot of what it felt like to be off for five solid weeks - and I haven't even left on the main trip yet! - because I might, of course, never be able to do such a thing again.  (For the record, I do recognize how lucky and privileged this makes me, and it has been awesome.) 

So, what does it feel like right now?

A bit surreal, and I suppose, scary.  Not to be on my own - I've never had a problem with that.  More like, wow ... what have I done?  Will I be made to pay for this?  Will I be sorry I dragged it out so much?  Scariest prospect of all:  will this thing overall perhaps prove a relatively empty, fleeting experience? 

If so, what then?

I guess I secretly would like it to result in the finding of some sort of 'deeper meaning', believe it or not.  A dramatic, life-dividing line would be nice.  (Can I order one of those up?)  I sound like I'm 12 right now, I know, embarrassingly looking for neat, tidy life answers out of a trip like this.  It ain't exactly roughing it in Guatemala with the Peace Corps.

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Cue REM's Flowers of Guatemala from their 1986 album "Life's Rich Pageant".

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGI0v1Ul7eo

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Anyway, a gal can seek, and wish.  It ain't against the law.  Yes, she might never find the answer, or it might ultimately be found in her own back yard.  But christ, that would be boring.

So here's to urban, mostly solo exploration as a way to enlightenment.  Or something like that.  Wish me luck.