I'm back on the road again. As usual my travels are highly unplanned and a little random. I've already pissed off one dear friend by airily announcing I'm not staying with her after all. Funny how my loosey goosey lifestyle leaves me blind to other people's practical realities. Of course hearing your houseguest say, "I'm not coming after all," would be really effing annoying.
I'm up for any meet-ups, hang-outs or get-togethers. You may have to hold my hands and reassure me that, "it's all going to be OK."
My sister likes to point out that in the pending post-modern, pre-apocalypse world the concept of "home" is probably going to be winnowed down to whatever you can fit in your back pocket and whoever is kind enough to offer you shelter for the night. Maybe my itinerant life is simply way ahead of it's time?