Disarranging Mine: A Journal
Friday ::: July 19, 2002 ::: 9:55 p.m.
1. Where were you born? Springfield, Illinois, United States.
2. If you still live there, where would you rather move to? If you don't live there, do you want to move back? Why or why not? I already moved back. When I was about 22, I moved to Chicago to escape the confines of the life I had in Springfield. I had five glorious years in Chicago, living the single life in the big city, but it wore on me and aged me. While in Chicago, I became we, and from there we moved to Western Michigan where my sister lives. Western Michigan was beautiful — the sunsets over Lake Michigan, the beaches, the dunes, the dune grass, the woods, and all the lakes and rivers and streams. We left Western Michigan because I felt so isolated and alone there. I think isolation and aloneness can be good things. However, at that time it had some very negative effects on me. And I had to think of the well-being of my children. There were a lot of factors that lead to our leaving Michigan, but that pretty much sums it all up. We've been back in Springfield for 13 years now. And I'm ready to leave again. I've been ready for a while, actually. But, I stayed here for my children. At this point, I don't know where I'll go, but when my youngest graduates from high school, I'm out of here.
3. Where in the world do you feel the safest? I don't allow myself to get in a situation where I don't feel safe. There was a time when something happened and I didn't feel safe, but that's not likely to happen ever again.
4. Do you feel you are well-traveled? Not at all. Except for a couple trips to the Ozarks, I haven't been west of Saint Louis. I don't know why. It just never happened. Anyway, I've been North, South and East in the U.S., and Canada and the Caribbean. Not enough to be well-educated in the ways of the world.
5. Where is the most interesting place you've been? Oh gosh, that's a toughie. I think all places are as interesting as you want to make them. One of my fondest memories is of a cold winter's night, driving on a deserted country road, pulling over to the side, getting out of the car, gazing up at the sky, slipping my arm through his... [and the rest is my memory alone, never again to see the light of day.]