we're not in Jordan anymore, Toto

Note to self: do not go out walking Saturday nights.

It was still daylight when I left, only just after 7:00. But the partying was in full-swing on my route.

It started with hollering from a car. I'm not sure they were hollering at me, and I pretended not to hear. Sure sounded like somebody shouted, "Go back to Alaska!" which is a joke some of my students and I have. Hopefully I imagined.

But then I was cruising along and was thinking, "If I don't have cancer and don't have to spend all that money and time, then I really SHOULD climb Kilimanjaro!" and then I noticed a man, Jamaican-looking, who clearly wanted to talk with me. But I kept going and he shouted, "Just do it!" and I have to wonder if he was reading my mind or appreciating my stride.

Then a little boy, maybe about 7 or 8, just down the street saw me coming and played hide and seek which gave a little laugh, but I don't like to make children hide from me. And he looked so Liberian, and I got sad.

Then there was a blue heeler on a fence. Tract houses, a wall about 6 feet up - and a herding dog was standing on the top of it, clearly uncertain what to do except bark at me. I heard another dog in the yard below it, and I thought of Selma and Otter - how Otter would escape and Selma would nark on her - sometimes going to the neighbor's door and barking until the neighbor came out and herded Otter back into the yard. Or the time we were in Bend visiting Nancy, and Susan took the dogs for a walk. They lost Susan, and so they came bolting back to the house. Well, Selma bolted back, looking very nervous upon arrival (knowing that losing and auntie is bad juju) - Otter wanted to roam. My Selma, she's not a roamer. She really is a Cancer. Not like me.

Anyway, my point? In Jordan, men never shout at me. I like that.

Last night I dreamed I was on a boat. Yesterday's Tarot with Sabine was very NOT enlightening. Oh well. Guess I have to figure out my fate on my own.