table of contents

written on the bus from st. augustine, florida to atlanta, georgia:

it was only three weeks ago that i left colombia and already it seems like a distant dream. i’m sitting on a greyhound bus where the driver sits behind bullet-proof plastic and the man in the seat next to me just conluded a cellphone conversation with his girlfriend, saying, “I love you, too, bitch.”

i think back to a bus ride i took in colombia. there was a large advertisement plastered to the front of the bus promoting the use of seatbelts. inexplicably, the art on the poster was a frightening sketch – the bloody, bedraggled face of the crucified christ. WWJD? apparently jesus would buckle up.

it’s 2am.  I’m at the savannah, georgia bus station.  feeling terribly conspicuous in my goofy thrift store outfit – a bright green shirt that says “HoHoHo!”, pink socks with flipflops.  i am, as far as i can tell, the only woman on this bus and almost one of the only white people.  i’ve encountered some shady folks on this little adventure.  one guy, in learning that i was destined for the atlanta stop, warned me, “don’t leave the bus station.  i saw three black guys beating the shit out of a white guy as well as a drive-by all in the 30mins while i was out taking a smoke break!”

i chatted with another fellow later.  he was three days away from re-deploying to iraq with the army.  he explained that he works advanced infantry.  “basically, i kick down doors and shoot the people inside.”  seeing my expression of horror he added, “i just have to stop thinking of them as people.”  it is horrifying what war brings us to.  but, i look back on my years of working in the hospital.  the hard crust i’ve built up around my soul from day after day of working with people in tragedy so i didn’t have to carry their pain home with me.  i just had to stop thinking about them as people.

so…where am i going? where have i been? i have a lot of writing to catch you all up. many adventures since i deplaned in fort myers, florida and, truly, i don’t want to exhaust you, my dear readers. maybe i’ll start by giving you a quick list of some possible chapter headings – a chance for you to get a quick summary and decide if you care to delve into the details.

however, let me being by writing that i feel like i am in such a state of grace! i am filled to the brim with experiences of the goodness and beauty of people i’ve crossed paths with. mature relationships (like those with you all) as well as new ones. i am overwhelmed and thankful and as i watch street lights and lines whiz by from my window i believe i am being guided and loved thanks to the prayers, wishes and directed thoughts of many. thank you! thank you! thank you!

and now, the table of contents:

* don’t go greyhound

* great aunt betty does the booty dance

* alligator attack!

* pirate pancakes

* underwear man (and other interesting characters of st. augustine, living and dead)

* st. augustine from 15,000 feet

* life on the farm (aka: i’m sorry, but i don’t believe in fairies)

* sneaking booze at the dude ranch

* the consequences of drinking booze at the dude ranch

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