stop all the downloading

I found Lee road. A bit backwards of course, I took 271 to Cedar and followed that through. I remembered last minute that Lee road comes off of 480 which is how one goes about getting to Cleveland from Kent. Coventry road intersects Cedar road (meaning of course that coming from Lee road, I would have turned left on to Cedar and taken that through until making a right onto Coventry, from there I would have normally turned right at Euclid Heights blvd and an immeadiate left into "my" parking). Some questions answered. More questions asked. Not quite meaning of life questions but certainly a bit more substantial than "where the fuck is Lee road?".

This week has been the most amazing dream (is this real?) of my life. From the minute I landed in Cleveland, I was impressed. I still look around me in awesome un-belief. For starters, this place is really clean. I mean it, everything looks so fresh, shiny and new. And everyone is so damn friendly, courteous at the minimum. Look, some things have changed, for sure. I can’t seem to find a blimpies to save my life and for some reason paninis Coventry has changed sides of the road. But overall, what has changed is me. Not in a bad way, I just appreciate the place more. I like where I come from. I have a strange desire to read the entire Les Roberts collection, I’m glad I’ve finally spent more time on the Westside than just “passin through” (though believe me, I am still a Cleveland Heights girl through and through), I’ve noticed things I’ve never seen before, I love Cleveland. Really. In a way that only the people who have previously heard me rant and rave will appreciate. I’m really digging the small minutes here – sitting on library steps, remembering whats coming up next on a street I haven’t traveled in over three years, the taste of my beer, the skyline, the airshow, Wade Oval pond with the girls, catch phrases (stop all the downloading), college bookstores, oh the music, (sorry, have I not yet mentioned) Taco Bell, white castle fries only come in one size, looking into a candle on the bar counter, remembering how to fill my own gas/petrol tank, opening my jewelry box, finding my gym bag, MLKJ blvd, old memories, older memories, oldo memories.

I have been thinking it for so long now, but really, its true. This place is home. It consumes me more sweetly that any breezy Geneva night, it loves me more than South Africa could ever hope to, it calls to me more than my promise to one day get back to Australia, it beckons me to walk its streets, to sing its songs, to find happiness on a Cleveland Hts park bench. I need to be here… and I hope we will be here for a long time, someday soon. I can not bear the otherwise…