goblins, goblins everywhere...
I had two days off in a row, and what plans I had. I was going to get back in the road mindset, maybe head out of town a bit, visit people in the area, call up friends of friends just because. Instead I rented two Italian horror movies (yay for Mario Bava) and holed up with the Ben and Jerry's. I didn't even want to write a blog. I wanted to be a blob.
Defeating my go-ahead-and-sit-on-your-ass goblins proved to be comparable to jumping off a cliff. You have to just do it, and not let yourself think. In New Zealand, my sister Christy and I went bungee jumping into a river off a steep cliff. I think I went first, that part is kind of hazy. No, wait, Christy went first. I was all hooked up and at the spot, waiting for them to count me down. I wasn't wearing my glasses, but I could still see how damn far down it was, when I made the horrible mistake of looking. I looked back up at the treeline, distracted myself, and leaned forward, barely even waiting for the count. When I was looking down again, and thinking, and freaking out, it was already far too late to do anything, like clinging to a pole, or grabbing at the platform as it fell away from me, or vomiting.
And how does that relate to goblins, you may well ask. I had been meaning to go to the Walker art museum since I arrived in the city. It was the one thing that everyone told me I had to do. It just kept getting pushed back, by important things, like Joe Schmo, bad movies, and junk food in a warm hostel. So today, I distracted it for a second (one spoonful of Phish Food), and then ran out the back door, not allowing myself to think about it. Of course that means I didn't miss my jacket, hat, and gloves until it was too late to turn around, but no matter. I was moving forward, and there wasn't anything that could turn me around. It was a bit brisk for the walk home. Still, it felt wonderful, I had a great time, and I no longer feel like a