This is a post I didn't intend to write until it happened.

Sometimes I get intense cravings for books or movies, like one would crave a pizza or Indian food. It's something synesthetic -- a full body and mind longing conjured up by cross wired memories and feelings painted on my mind and heart. I assume everyone experiences this, but maybe without verbalizing it; you just read the book or watch the movie again and attribute it to the words "I want to..."

Anyhow, right now I have a craving for Tuck Everlasting. I don't even remember the full plot or any specifics like character names, but I feel a warmth.  "You want to be here," it seems to say, making me want to return -- to read that book, to find that place. It's a scene of a cozy house in the woods with endless stack of pancakes, the smell of butter and maple syrup, and a kindly, plump motherly figure. I remember reading the book in class when I was younger and being so enamored with the scenes, so much so that I wanted to stay in them forever and it made me almost desolate to realise it wasn't possible; which is ironic and perfect, now that I over think about it, because it's somewhat fitting with the books' themes of life and immortality.

So I need to rent or buy Tuck Everlasting again. I sincerely hope it's not like finally getting that greasy slice of pizza you're mouth has been watering for, only to find that it has disgusting pieces of sausage with thousands of fennel seeds smothered all over it . Or like when someone excessively promotes a movie, raising your expectations to an impossible level. I really want to fully experience that cozy, maple syrup spiked feeling I keep getting. I want to run away for awhile to the Tuck house in the woods where we can read books and newspapers and eat pancakes all day. Does anyone remember reading Tuck Everlasting? I think it was required elementary school/early middle school reading. Was it like that? I'm probably romanticising it.

Edit: I just read a plot summary. Winnie was kidnapped by the Tucks. Kidnapped, ran away, potato potato.

My desire to go to that seemingly safe and comfortable yet ephemeral place probably has a more profound meaning than merely quenching a craving. It probably has something to do with my mother and a desire to take a break -- escapism, yes -- and make things easy for myself for a second. I haven't mentioned it here, but Eugenio and I will be moving soon. He'll be finished with his fellowship in July, so he's in the process of interviewing for jobs. It overwhelms me to think about uprooting and moving again, now that I'm finally settled. I finally have friends and a stable job; I finally have the I Hate This Place stick out of my ass and I'm in no hurry to put it back in while starting over again, interviewing for more jobs, trying to get my foot in the door I'm not thrilled about fully entering. Despite that last sentence, I'm trying my best to stay open minded and involved in the process and avoid my tendency to check out and let things fall where they may, my input and opinions left aside or, rather, buried inside. To keep this short and the least whiny possible, San Antonio probably isn't going to happen. So I'm going to take a break from fretting about where we will live to read my elementary school book. Then I'll get on with life, in this city or that. C'est la vie.