A couple friends have mentioned that maybe I should stop traveling as I seem so cynical and jaded in my journal. Others have asked why am I still doing this - and I can't really come up with a good answer. I've worried that maybe I'm still on the road because it's the easiest thing to do. As long as I'm traveling I don't have to answer the hard questions - mainly "what do I want to be when I grow up?" As long as I'm on the road I don't have to worry about a career, where I want to live, rent or own, cats or dogs, etc. Well today I was looking through the travel writing section of the bookstore. Just reading the back of almost every book that I picked up literally gave my goosebumps. Whether it was about someplace I want to go, or someplace I've been - it excited me. I think that next time I'm feeling down I just need to go browse the travel section! but the important thing to me is that I realized I'm still passionate about what I'm doing. As long as that's true I belong here (or there, or there...).

I had a stack of six books in line at the cashier - then I had a reality check - I have to carry these. Considering that and the fact that English books shouldn't be that hard to come by in Australia - I cut it down to three. One travelogue (Peter Biddlecombe's French Lessons in Africa), one that's been on my books I should read list (Anne Frank's Diary of a young Girl), and one from my books I want to read list (Jack Kerouac's On the Road). Also took the book I bought my first day back to the used bookstore and exchanged it for another Tom Clancy (Hidden Agendas).<>I wandered around the Funan Center again, but even this was relatively quiet - most stores closed. Spent the evening at the Internet cafe doing some long overdue maintenance on my web pages (mostly moving things to my domain). It got late fast.