Wolf & Bear

I've set the date for the departure from my secure & promising middle class job. What exactly am I going to do next? I'm not quite sure.

"I hear Georgia is nice."
"The country?"
"Yes, they have palm trees. For an ex-Soviet Republic its not bad at all."

Quitting my job may just be the single greatest act of independence from societal norms I have done in my short adult life. I am fully prepared (OK, somewhat prepared) to venture into the unknown with only my wits & my backpack. There is, however, an adorable Rusky boy dancing in my future that I just can't seem to get enough of.

With him, the hours pass pleasantly.

"How much lights you think one can make with a lighter? You ever counted?"
I didn't answer his question right away. I paused to write it down.
"I don't know, cute, I've never bothered."

Why would I when the ease of each light is so negligible?

This, however, leaves my fate tied to another--not necessarily a situation I am used to.We'll see how it goes.

He pulls out the World Atlas we got at "The Bins" last summer. Dreams of another place. He pauses on page 19, Indonesia & The Philippines. My grandparents moved there last month. Nueva Ecija, two hours north of Manila on Luzon. Its beautiful, excellent climate.

Next stop? Page 34. Mexico. Overland expedition, perhaps? He's been building and rebuilding a tough as nails vehicle that I like to call Olga-- The Cold War Van. It can sleep three to four, skylight, solar panels. The works.

He pauses again at a full page map of Iowa, my home state. Watching him orient himself to its position in the country is yet another reminder of our differences.

He's the yin to my yang.

He flips through more pages. Each one a small representation of a different state in the Union. He stops. I can tell he sees something familar.

"Oregon is nice." He settles in, page 80. "Fuck yeah! Oregon is nice. You know? its the only state with four climates."