“If money were no object where would you live?”
I’m sure the woman on twitter that posed this query was just
trying to relieve the comparative slowness of Holiday Internet, as well as
hearing fantasies about Vermont B&Bs and Irish pubs (both fun lives for the
right person, I bet, and I wish my own escape fantasies could be that fantastic
and fun) I got stuck, though.
Imagine having a choice.(Which I don’t. Not without someone’s heavy lifting, and, I don’t know, a big lottery win…the prize patrol showing up at my condo? And still I know I am closer to being free than my institutionalized peers, naturally, but I am still not free, and thinking about it bums me out.)
Same reason I don’t like those memes about “Who would you be
in 1909?” Because as much as I’d like to say, you know, henna-rinsed goyischeEmma Goldman, I know the real answer is either dead, with my dead mother, or,
best case, in a ward for defective young ladies.The only thing I enjoy about
that game is the dark kind of street cred I get for blurting that out…less fun
is realizing that my future choices don’t feel different enough.)
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