Chris asked me the other day if we were running away. Didn’t even have to think about that one; abso- frickin’- lutly, Huck Finn. We’re leaving behind family that we love and friends that we couldn’t possibly live without ( yup, that would be you guys), the privilege of being able to read the language that all of the newspapers and signs are printed in, and bacon cheeseburgers with barbecue sauce and we. are. running.

For all the Calvin and Hobbes fans out there, this should be a familiar impulse. One morning you wake up and realize that you’re finally, finally a grown-up and, inexplicably, you’re NOT eating chocolate frosted sugar bombs for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Even taking into consideration the fact that your stomach lining is no longer made out of Teflon, you’re still not eating anything worth writing home about. More often than not- too often- you’re snarfing down things that have come out of plastic wrappers while hunched over your desk, or while you’re running out the door to catch your bus. You’re NOT staying up past midnight every night because you’re having too much fun to go to bed yet. You’re probably not even telling your boss or professor where he can take a one-way tropical vacation this time of year. Fortunately, no longer being a six year old, I’ve realized that these things aren’t actually life goals (except maybe the eating well part, but I am from the south). I’ve also realized that my six-year-old self would still kick my behind, because life could be far more fun than I’m letting it be. I’ve spent thirteen years of grade school and then another five- count ’em, FIVE- years in college and I still find myself thinking in terms of paying dues.

Now, here’s where I drag Henry Miller back into the spotlight: “I am of the order whose pupose is not to teach the world a lesson, but to explain that school is over”. For those of you who have paid or are still paying your dues, are making responsible choices, and are living your lives with purpose and direction, believe me, I am not here to teach you any lessons. But for me, school is over. The life I want is here, now. I’m going to travel to some funky and strange smelling corners of the planet with my husband and have some adventures. I’m going to try to build a compassionate heart by meeting as many different kinds of people as I can and learning to respect them. I’m going to have stories to tell. And, y’all, none of this is going to happen in Boston. It’s not going to be squeezed into two weeks worth of allotted vacation time, and its never going to be neatly summed up by a job title. For some reason all of this gets harder and harder to remember the longer I stay in one place, like fighting to stay awake when your whole body is trying to nod off. The only answer I’ve come up with is to run fast and far from the temptation to measure my own life by the status quo that works so well for so many others.

So here’s to hoping. Here’s to taking the big leap and hoping it doesn’t end with a heavy thump. And here’s to everyone who’s following along for the ride. Thanks for checking in, and thanks for wanting to know. Let’s see where this goes.