Feeling Antsy

Sometimes, I get these compulsions to go somewhere. It's always a fairly specific somewhere, and it's always inspired by the most ridiculous things. I've wanted to go to Marfa, Texas for a few years, mainly inspired by this documentary I once watched (and the fact that I've dreamed about it before I even knew it existed—Casey says it's aliens). A few nights ago, my family and I watched a TV show about a barbecue restaurant, and now I want to go eat barbecue in Texas.

I've already discussed my propensity toward wanderlust, and I mentioned that going to Sedona would only make it stronger. It's entirely true, and maybe a bit distressing.

Honestly, if I had about two hundred dollars and a car (and a license), I'd take off and go...somewhere. Just drive in one direction and hope I end up somewhere cool. Now that I'm finished with the semester, I doubt I would be sitting here in bed typing this up if I had either of those things. I'm not sure where I'd be, and it's a beautiful thought.

One of my friends wants to just pack up her camera gear and go somewhere on a photography adventure. Of course, she lacks a car and money as well, but who's to say that it can't work out? As long as I'm back in August, there's no reason not to try.

Someone told me to go for it, to "go somewhere supremely scary and uncomfortable and carry the memory with you forever."

I want to go somewhere I've never been. I want to stay in mediocre motels that haven't been updated since the 70s. I want to see obnoxiously lame tourist things like "The World's Largest Thermometer" (which I've seen, it's as lame as you would think). I want to see hours and miles in the rearview mirror.

Honestly, all I really want is a nice little car with a tent and sleeping bag always stashed in the trunk.

I'm antsy now, and I really want to try. I just have to find a way.