Okay, so I let another two months pass without even a thought about the blog. I would apologize about this to my blogging audience except that lackadaisical bloggers like me do not have blogging audiences. I've been feeling the desire to freelance. I'm still plugging away on my novel; I've written close to 90,000 words, and the plot and multiple subplots, are nearing completion. I'm greatful I've had this time to write a novel, while working three-quarters time at another job. I know it is a luxury to write what you want. My parents are freelance writers, and they don't have much time for novel-writing, as they have to make sure bills get paid. Their lives are not cozy, not insured. Paychecks do not arrive like clockwork every two weeks. So why does part of me want to jump into that world, to see what I can make of my writing when I absolutely have to?

Maybe it's just been a strange two weeks. We returned from a trip to New York City, and we've been having trouble re-adjusting to our sleepy little city. How can it compare to sitting next to Naomi Watts at an Ethiopian restaurant in the West Village, or to walking across the Brooklyn Bridge in the drizzle, or to watching flocks of tiny canary-yellow cabs huddle at stoplights from the top of the Empire State Building? Even my beloved Oregon, at it's best right now, alive with spring flowers, so lush and abundant that I couldn't begin to explain such beauty, has seemed almost lackluster in comparison to that electric city.

Then I heard from a long-lost old boyfriend, and it was strange, because, by definition, this is a strange occurence. I would go into it here, but then I'd have to stop feeling so superior to the people who go into such things on blogs, and frankly, I'm just not ready to do that.

As usual, I'm trying to decide whether to move or stay where I am. My husband and I - we're a restless couple, always falling in love with every place we visit. "If we lived here...." is our favorite vacation refrain. So we're at it again, our wheels churning with what-ifs. So things are strange now, and the world is pregnant with possibilities.