m.i.a.

Missing in action. I used to have one of those bracelets, wore it into the late '70s. Don't know what ever happened to my Vietnam serviceman. My commitment to wear the silver until he was located fell victim to an excess of vodka and nights spent wilding in the bars.

I have a sense of being adrift, without focus, missing in action from my blog and my life. Must be time for a getaway, but the best deal I can find is in Jamaica and I am not sure I can stomach a retreat to such a homophobic country. I've been looking at international properties ~ something more permanent ~ thinking I can run away from the fascists in Washington, find a little nook high in the mountains, celebrate life in a country which minds its own business and flies under the radar.

I am as disgusted with this Cheney thing as I've been with any of the Bush era travesties beyond the lies told to get us into Iraq. I don't know how this could happen to my United States, this country I've pledged allegiance to since I was four years old, and I find myself just wanting out.

Do you ever dream of running away? If so, where do you imagine yourself ending up? My dreams take me to a country with beaches and mountains; I'll be on the beach when it's cold in the mountains and in the mountains when it's too toasty in the sand. Costa Rica is looking good, Panama. You?