Back in November I wrote about how I'd been feeling like Southern Indiana had somehow grown giant hands which it was using to push me away. I wrote that it had been a good thing that I was going to Las Vegas, because there's no way I'd have been able to stay where I was. This place was actively rejecting my presence.
That was a new feeling for me. Always before, I wrote, always before I'd been pulled to faraway places. Then, after Las Vegas or Chicago or wherever had loosened its grip on me, I felt free to come home. I even felt like home welcomed me back sometimes.
Yesterday I had an idea for something to do with my four-day weekend. A road trip, but not just any old road trip. An action-packed extravaganza. Drivel Tour '07, I began calling it in my head.
The plan was simple, yet brilliant. I had four days and three nights to kill. I let a couple of cities rattle around in my head, but none seemed quite right. Not quite enough. That's when my brilliance kicked in.
I'd drive south, to Nashville, and spend Thursday night there. Then, Friday morning, I'd drive another couple of hours, and end up in Memphis. Friday night I'd visit some of the touristy areas that I'd so carefully avoided back in 1998, when I lived in Memphis. Maybe I'd even meet up with a fellow blogger and we could swap some of the stories we'd never written about. I've got a zillion of those.
Then, Saturday morning, I'd drive up to St. Louis, and I'd go to that Growler's Pub. They have good beer there. Or maybe back to Laclede's Landing, and that brewpub that I liked, Morgan Street.
Sunday morning I'd have a four-hour drive back home. Four-day weekend spent. Beer drank. Problem solved.
It was a good plan, if I do say so myself. And I do. It might have even been fun. A giant circle of a road trip. I even briefly considered calling it Circle Jerk '07.
Well, it's not going to happen.
WeirdGirl invited me to go on a trip with her and a dozen of her friends. We wouldn't leave until Friday and, since I can't make up my damn mind, the Nashville leg of Drivel Tour '07 is effectively cancelled. And without that first leg, the entire trip is shot.
I seriously doubt that I'll end up going with WeirdGirl. I can't emotionally afford to develop feelings for her, and that's probably what would happen.
Oh yeah, also my sister Dina is having a cookout on Sunday. The thought of starting that day in St. Louis, driving four hours to get home, then spending who knows how much time at my sister's house, well it's exhausting just thinking about it.
Either one of those things - either WeirdGirl's invitation or Dina's cookout - may have been enough to cancel my road trip. But neither of them were really needed.
A part of me knew all along that I wasn't really going anywhere.
What would be the point? What would I accomplish?
Not a fucking thing.
See, Southern Indiana is no longer pushing me away. I'm irrelevant to this place now. I'm not needed here, but neither am I needed to be gone from here. Like I said, irrelevant.
No faraway cities call to me. They have nothing to offer me except disappointment. Though it does seems a little strange to me, that disappointment can still exist even where there are no real hopes or expectations. I guarantee that it does still exist.
This is all pretty much the same reason that I didn't go anywhere for Easter this year. I saw no point in it. There would be no rejuvenation for me. No real relaxation. Nothing but wasted thoughts and wasted days and nights.
Well, I can do all that right here near home. And, right here near home, it's expected that it will all be a waste.