Wishes are horses

I originally wanted orangeyouglad.blogspot.com. But some chick took that and posted two entries four years ago. Orange you glad she started a blog? I'm thinking a bad, homeless thought about her, but I am not going to write it. Things stay in the internet ether forever.

This will be, per usual, a travel/life abroad blog. I will be posting more finished, less livejournal-esque pieces about my experiences living in the South of France this year.

How do I feel about leaving good ole' LA in a week for the deepest darkest wilds of Provènce? Right now, my main wishes are for a non-sketchy roommate, access to DSL (or "le ASDL") and real friends, not just pseudo-boho Americans trying to make drunken friends with my face, as was the case in Argentina.

I have many things taken care of. I have traveller's cheques/checks, two lesson plans already laid out, three appartment viewing appointments, and a temporary place to stay.

I am reminded of a poem I read once in my personal holy scriptures.

With A Ten-Foot Pole

The sky is white and nerveless and involves
Standing off at a ludicrous distance, thinking
Bad thoughts — well, not bad really, rather say
Homeless, images of a time and place
Long since scattered to dust — but still, what power!
My dearest wish — but one shouldn't have wishes,
Wishes are horses that kick you in the heart,
Then ask you if you'd like another ride.
I rode one once, or let's say she rode me —
But you don't want to hear that story again.
I know I don't. Maybe you'd like to hear
About a time and place that kept their distance.
The sky was white and nerveless . . . leave it at that.

— Robert Mezey, in the 10/3/05 New Yorker.