Saturday Night in Toledo, Ohio

There's never anything a single person can do alone. And I'm not single, really, just geographically inconvenient to my sweetie, who lives in Michigan and who I won't see tll next week. I'm at Starbucks working, but thought I'd treat myself to a midnight movie. No dice. The new movie company in Toledo, Rave Motion Pictures, now declines to show movies after 11 pm. So I could go to a bar or a Waffle House. I think I'll go home and watch a movie on the tube, snuggle my cats and rest up. I've got a killer week ahead between the three jobs I'm juggling, my writing, and social and family obligations.

Tomorrow, I'll help my (sort of) stepdad move a stack of 40-pound pavers into the backyard so he can anchor his new cantilevered umbrella over the patio furniture. There's leftover ribs in it for me (in the job, not, I hope, in the furniture).

All this underscores a need to move. Not to Michigan, though my sweetie would love that. I miss Boston. I miss movies that start at 1 am and having a million things to do any night of the week. I miss the ocean and the Cape. I miss all of it. No idea if I'll ever live there again, or anywhere other than here.

Still, despite being nearly as good a pilot as he was a singer, John Denver got it right when he covered that shitty song about my town. It's like noplace at all, and I want to be someplace....someplace lovely.