3/13/13 is sort of fun to write. Or, at least I had fun writing it all day long on forms and things. Another reason it's fun is because it's one of my good friends' birthday today: Happy Birthday to Megan! Many happy returns!
I'm still trying to settle into daylight savings time. It has not gone as easily as I had hoped. Struggle, struggle, struggle. An added problem has been that since Sunday night, there has been a really loud cat who has come to visit Bea each night from about 3-5:30 or so in the morning. I've decided it's her boyfriend. He's really really loud. Crazy loud. This morning around 5, after dealing with his crying for hours, I got up to see if I could scare him off. It sounded like he had gotten into the apartment somehow...like he was sitting in the living room, wailing at the top of his lungs. He did eventually go away, but not until he had seen me and cried and did that paw scratching thing on the patio door to ask to be let inside. Bea just hung back looking at him like he is some sort of crazy fool that can't take a hint and she has to get her mom out of bed to send him away. She was excited to have a friend the first night, I think she's kind of lonely being by herself a lot. She's a very social cat. Maybe she's learning 'be careful what you wish for' because by night three, she seemed to be getting kind of tired of it all. Still, it kind of breaks my heart, his meowing. He's so desperate. He seems to walk up and down this railroad tie fence, just wailing and wailing. Poor thing. I wish his owner would take better care of him, if he has an owner. He's such a recent arrival, I figure he's either gotten lost, or his owner has started letting him out at night. He's aware of the idea of being an 'inside' cat. I can't have another cat. This apartment isn't big enough, and Bea is quite enough to handle on her own most times. Maybe somebody who doesn't already have a pet will want one and can take this one in. I hope this not only for the cat's sake, but also for mine. I'd like a full night's sleep again. I don't relish the thought of tonight being the fourth installment of Beatrix's boyfriend wailing on the patio.
I can feel myself wanting an adventure again. Travel again. I always want to travel, but I can feel myself getting so restless that the need to travel is driving me crazy. Mostly because I don't have the money to travel far right now. But, even if I had the money, I don't know what I want to do yet or where I'd like to visit. I only have vague ideas of places I'd like to see... Paris? Ireland? Back to Peru? Maybe just a beach...anywhere. Florida? Pacific Northwest? South Carolina? California? Somewhere in Central America? A cruise? Hmm. Where to go? So many places to see.
Book talk! (It's been a while since I read anything super awesome):
I'm reading a really fantastic book right now that is in no way helping me to stomp down this travel bug. It's about Peru and a guy who was an adventure travel editor for years, but who never actually did any adventuring. He spent years tied to a desk while he assigned reporters to adventures all over the world and then he edited their stores and published them. How torturous, I think. It was high time he had an adventure of his own. He decided he wanted to follow the trail that Hiram Bingham III used to "discover" Machu Picchu. I find that I love reading travelogue books anyway (the movies that come from those travelogues are not always that good, which constantly surprises me...but I digress), but this is a travelogue of an adventure that I so recently took part in myself that it makes it even more fun. It's interesting to read because I struggle very much with trying to describe the experience I had in Peru last year. It's nice to have someone else write it and know exactly what scenery they are describing or how the Quechua people sound, or the ways the llamas and alpacas are taken care of, or just the way that the terraces look on the Andes. He also includes a lot of the history of Peru, the Incas, and Hiram Bingham in it, but told in a really interesting and often humorous way. I've laughed out loud a bunch, mostly with how truely I can relate to the total sense of 'lost' that an American can get in that place. I don't necessarily mean geographically lost (but that's easy, too), but out of your comfort zone. I mean 'lost' in the way that you lose yourself...lose your bearings...are so much in a world that has been based on things that are so foreign that you just have to give in to it and let yourself be taken by it. I think that's the sort of lost that can be good sometimes. It was great. I soaked up so much in Peru that I think it's impossible for me to explain what I saw and how I felt, but this book, "Turn Right at Machu Picchu" is helping me to get a better handle on it all. And making me want to go back again. As if I ever really wanted to leave in the first place?
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