The story goes...last night, after work, I unexpectedly met up with a friend (and avid movement supporter) from my Iona College days. With the intention of only being out for an hour or so, the hours slipped by, as did bottles of Coronas (I blame Germany for this new beer tasting) and a test tube shot taken from in between the shot girls...I digress.
It was great to catch up, and the looser everyone got, the more we spoke about Rudi, and what everyone was working on exclusively, as well as collectively. Midnight rolls around. I think I met them at 9pm. It was time to take the trek home. In a slight blur, hitting 49th street. I asked myself why I decided to walk back downtown to 42nd, instead of uptown to 59th to catch the 4 train...I went with it, and as always, the Universe answered my question.
I get down the escalator (and I never forget a face) and I look to my right to see an old-time friend of my ex-boyfriend from like six years ago. It was a random meeting, not just because of how long ago the relationship was, but also because the same time my ex and I split, this dude had just decided to pack up his life and move to Nicaragua. Only to be living there ever since.
I ran up on him, and it was a shock for us both. We ran through the last 5 years, in about 5 minutes and I realized that he is still based out of Nicaragua, continuing the music project they initiated a few years back.
My spidey sense went off...as it always does when I feel I need to explore a project, or travel more...
Politicking with him, chatting today on Facebook, and remembering that one of my best friends, Jose, is from Nicaragua and just spent a month there sparked another rush. Facebook chatting was immediately split between texts with Jose on what it would take for both of us to get there. With one of my texts literally reading:
"Fuck money...we out!"
I have to be like that sometimes because money is the first line of defense people put in front of them when it comes to travel. Let the money come. Let's just focus on the plans. Too much is telling me this is where we need to be. Between the random run in and finding out where Jose is from, is where my friend is living...and then the photos of Corn Island.... oh yea, we out!
