On walking unfamiliar streets

One of the strangest recurrent sensations I have is this: When I walk down an unfamiliar street in town, I am often hit with the feeling that I could be living in a foreign country, that I might be residing in a town 1,000 miles away from my true home. I don’t know what this means. Sometimes it feels a little like déjà vu. Or as if I were walking through a set in some film I have already seen.

I like this sensation, inexplicable as it is. It is one of the surest ways that I think my brain tells me: You are on your own now.

♦ ♦ ♦

Things I have recently gotten into:

1. Italian mineral water.
2. Looking up words in the physical dictionary.
3. Twitter.
4. Keeping a planner (even though Google Calendar sometimes makes me feel redundant).
5. Reading children’s books out loud with Guion (currently: A Series of Unfortunate Events).
6. Wearing heels to work.

♦ ♦ ♦

This warm weather is freaking me out a bit. I love warm weather, but it is not supposed to be 70°F in Virginia in January. I’ve taken advantage of it, though, by walking Pyrrha at night when I get home. We see the neighbors, we stalk the cats, we daydream about houses that we’ll never be able to afford. Last night, another German shepherd almost jumped out of a truck window after us. Pyrrha paused and looked at him and I think she said, “Hello, distant relative. Bring it on.”