Strange stranger in a stranger land

And so, dear friends, I am no longer residing at the Institute of Macrofunfeasting and Dishwashing. Four days ago, the lovely lady that birthed me and I crammed our belongings and our bodies into the back of a car and together made a run for it, fleeing feet first back into the world from whence we came.

First stop:

~a picnic table on the side of the road. Ah yes, the perfect location to enjoy our kushileftovers of fish+rice+greens+turnips, with the …peaceful hum.. of a steady flow of automobiles traveling at high speeds to very important places.

And then, four hours after leaving the mountain top of macrobiotic elves and wizardry, NYC greeted us with open arms– big, stinky, sticky, loud and overwhelmingly overpopulated open arms. You’re not in MASSACHUSETTS anymore, macro kids. *spits*

Then a bus to D.C. Showcasing, on my right, one of the most gorgeous sunsets I’ve seen in weeks. And on my left, a RAINBOW. AS the sun was setting. A good omen, I do declare.

I now find myself in Washington D.C., a little portion of planet Earth that has been generously coated with cement and heavily trafficked by business-attired human beings. Fascinating creatures, these humans. With their jobs..and their purses..and their places to go/people to see.

It all feels so foreign to me, city life.

It’s hard for me to take it seriously. And that’s ok. I mean, that’s ok, right? It’s ok that all I want to do is put on my bright green fruit pants and tie dye socks and frolic about like a girl who hasn’t had “somewhere to be” in 3 months?

Laughing at how the ground has little holes where the trees poke through.

And how there are signs that tell you not to do things,

and bars that keep you from doing them anyway.

It all just makes me rather


But still- the flowers, they make my heart smile.

And D.C. does have some beautiful streets with holes in the ground big enough for these:

After hours and hours of walking past restaurants with the same crap food that we can’t eat…how comforting it is to find this ‘Friendly’ establishment.

Just don’t ask them where the burdock is. Unless you would like to see the face of someone who thinks you are a witch, bubbling cauldron waiting patiently at your witch hut for the final ingredient to perfect this week’s potion of various witchery tactics.

But at least I have great fun to look forward to. And so do you!

(and look at my breakfast this morning! homemade! soft rice with corn+  miso soup)




4 responses to “Strange stranger in a stranger land

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