Running Away From Home Part I: The Drive

Road Trip Diet Rules:
She who eats bean burritos & Sour Patch Kids on the way to her destination,
must eat grapefuit and string cheese on the way home. 

Have you ever been alone...in a car...for almost 8 hours? 

Two weeks ago my answer would have been a resounding NO. Probably followed by something that sounded a lot like laughing. Or was it crying? 

Yes. Probably both. 

When I was living in California about 12 years ago I met up with a couple of friends from Utah for a birthday trip in Vegas. I think that is the last time I have gone anywhere alone. Besides work. [And, I was 6 months pregnant at the time. So technically still not really alone.] 

A couple weeks ago I decided to run away from home to visit my sister and her family in Phoenix. The stars tried to align against me to make the trip impossible, but I stuck it out. I muddled through schedules, and babysitting, and dislocated patellas, and copious amounts of mom-guilt and, like Nike says, just did it.  

I won't get into all of the facets of the trip, just yet. But I will tell you what it is like to be in a car...alone...for almost 8 hours. 

In a word? Bliss.

Some things my drive DID consist of:

• Spending a mere $3.81 at the Taco Bell in Kingman.
• Stopping two times. ONLY TWO TIMES!!!! [And not having to try to find anyone's shoes when I did.]
• Listening to a customized playlist 3 weeks in the making including sing-along favorites from artists such as Aerosmith, The Jackson 5, Metallica, The Fugees, Social Distortion, Jewel and Goldfinger to name a few. [I know just what you're thinking: That Cyndie. She must have been one EPIC mixed-tape creator back in the day. And you would be correct. Oh, that's not what you were thinking. Whatever.]
• Peace
• Quiet

Some things my drive DID NOT consist of:

• Spending $30+ on fast food
• Sharing my snacks. Only to reach for some later and find the bag empty
• Whining
• Yelling
• Arguing
• Taylor Swift CDs
• Endless questions
• Hearing, "I have to go to the bathroom" right after passing through the last vestiges of civilization for 120 miles.

And that's just on trips with my husband. 

I haven't even mentioned what happens on trips with my kids.

(Ha ha! Just kidding, babe. Please don't move away again.)

I did miss my littles while I was there. Just enough to make me want to come back home. 

But not enough to make me want to take road trips with them anytime soon.

In Case You Were Wondering: The Notes Version

The first in my series of Posts to Make You Feel Better About Yourself.
(What can I say? I'm a giver.)

I make a lot of notes. In notebooks. On envelopes. On Post-Its. Sometimes even on a gum wrapper if it's handy. I also use the Notes app on my phone fairly frequently.

Every now and then I come across one of these old notes. They are typically pretty easy to decipher. Grocery list. To-Dos. Things to look up later. Appointments. Birthday and Christmas lists. Funny quotes from movies or TV shows. Homework assignments. 

Sometimes they even serve as a kind of time-capsule: Remember that time I was out of mascara? Or that day that I thought I could plant ground cover AND paint a bedroom? Or that one time on NYPD Blue when that suspect said, "Shut your pretty girl hole up?" Ah, good times. Good times.

But every now and then I come across a note that makes no sense at all. None. 

Like this:

What the what?!?

I don't know. But if you figure it out, give me a call.

In Case You Were Wondering

I am thinking of starting a new series of posts designed to make everyone else feel just a little bit better about themselves.

Some short but sweet posts that let you inside the crazy confines of my brain (even more than usual.) Some confessions about how I clean these days (not well) things I actually say out loud to my children (you will be horrified) and other such deep, dark secrets.

The purpose is two-fold:

First, I get little satisfaction from being slightly and legitimately insane (some, but little.) BUT, if I can use that madness to both entertain and comfort you (at least I'm not as crazy she is!) Well, then my life of lunacy will be a life well lived. 

Second, short but sweet. Emphasis on the short. I tend to write kind of a lot on my posts. Blogging is super cathatric for me and makes me feel a little less alone in the world. HOWEVER, when I write a lot...I get less homework done. It is difficult to put into words how completely time and energy and life consuming finishing my degree has been for me. This past year of school has felt like less like an adventure and more like a horrific ordeal. I used to think I was excited to learn new things. I was wrong.

I would like to compare it to being buried under 700 tons of ice cream:

Ice cream? Gooooood! 
Being entombed in ice cream? Cold. And sticky. And asphyxiating.

Stay tuned.

Sometimes: The Marriage and Texting Version

Sometimes your husband goes to live far away for 3-6 months.

Sometimes that 3-6 months turns into 6-9 months.

Sometimes that 6-9 months turns into almost a year.

Sometimes you are drowning in life, kids, school, work and you don't have a lot of time to talk.

Sometimes texting is nice.

Sometimes you can send quick messages back & forth when you don't have time for phone calls.

Sometimes you want him to hurry home for a weekend visit. (And you want cookies):

Sometimes he lets you know he's made it back safe:

Sometimes your university is playing his university and you pretend like you are remotely interested in the outcome of the game:

Sometimes you just send a quick message of affection:

And sometimes he watches too much YouTube while he's away. And you have to change your wireless plan:

Poor Fall

Oh Autumn. You of the fiery orange vistas and shivery breezes that hint of frost. You of the early sunsets and cornucopias bursting with harvest. You of the ghouls and goblins, the pilgrims and Mayflowers.

People love them some fall. Love. It. My social media feed is filled with pictures of pumpkin-everything recipes, bright yellow and red leaves, scarves, hats...and essentially all things fall.

Can I tell you a secret? I do not love fall. In fact, I kind of hate it.

But it's not really fall's fault. Fall just has the un-enviable position in the lineup of seasons of coming right before winter. And if you think I have strong negative feelings for fall? Well, you should just see how I feel about winter. Hate is not strong enough a word. 
"But what about Christmas??" you ask. Yeah, I don't much like that either. But that's a Grinchy blogpost for another day.

It's like some kind of Pavlovian response, I think. Only instead of being conditioned to the ringing of the bell that signals food, I am conditioned to the season that signals the coming of winter. I cringe, I shudder, I...unsalivate, if you will.

I blame the sunny Southern-Californianess of my upbringing. There the seasons went something like: Winter-ish, Pre-summer, Summer and Post-Summer. Here, it’s something a little more like Deathly-Cold, Slightly Less Deathly But No Less Cold, Smr and Just About To Be Deathly Cold. Nope, not a typo. That’s how short summer feels to me. And, oh, I know. I know that there are many much places that are WAY colder than here. But I am also convinced that if I had to live there, I would die. Simply die. 

But, lest you think me a spoiled Cali brat who is both cruel and unusual to poor, innocent autumn, I have decided to grant fall a reprieve. That’s right. I have seen the error of my ways and have determined this year to stop hating fall. Or at least stop hating it as much. Ya know, so I can save all my energy for hating winter. Who TOTALLY deserves it. 

And how do you stop hating something? Well, you have to remember the good times. Reflect on the positives. I don't know if it works, but I'm totally willing to give it a try. 

So what is it that I enjoy about fall? Not a ton, but a few things. And they may just be the same things that other people enjoy about winter. But to recap, I enjoy nothing about winter. Nothing. So while fall gets the brunt of my winter-hate, I will also give it the benefit of my cold-weather love. Ok, cold-weather like. Love might be taking it a little too far.

#1. Boots
Alright, I do love boots. As more than just a friend. Brown. Black. Gray. Red. Flat. Heeled. Wedged. Leather. Suede. Vinyl. Pull-on. Zippered. Lace Up. All of the above. AND having actual cold temperatures makes the wearing of such footwear practical as well as fashionable. (And pretty. So very pretty.) I saw a stage production of Bram Stoker's Dracula last week, and the only thing that distracted me from the wickedly delicious giddiness I feel about vampires was the heady lust I felt over those fabulous Victorian boots.
Mmmmmm. Boots.

#2. Soup
I am one of those people that has to eat things seasonally. I don't really like pumpkin. I don't care for squash. Apple pie I can do without. But I do love some delicious homemade soup. Potato. Broccoli. Chicken noodle. Clam chowder. Tomato. Salad is for summer. Soup is for fall. Preferably in a bread bowl. With a side of bread. Which explains why my pants rarely fit from October-February.

#3. Sweaters
Admittedly, I liked sweaters more in California. They were more of a this-would-look-great-with-my-boots kind of thing. Here they are more of a if-I-don't-wear-something-warm-and-bulky-I'll-simply-freeze-to-death kind of thing. But that's ok. Because I do like sweaters. They are snuggly. And soft. And warm.
And did I mention, they look great with my boots?

#4. Fires
The crackling comfort of something aflame? Love it. Sure, I only have a gas fireplace and it doesn't really crackle. But it's pretty. And it's warm. And I do like warm.
Do I prefer a campfire at the beach in the summer? Um, duh! But if it is going to be cold outside, a fire will suit me just fine, thanks.

#5. Cold Nights
No, not the kind I have to be outside in. The kind where I am snuggled up in bed with 73 blankets piled on top of me in. As much as I love the heat, I can't sleep when it's hot. I actually turn the AC down lower at night than I do during the day in the summer. And have a fan. And sometimes a window open, too. 
So there is something lovely about finishing a bowl of soup, taking off my sweater & boots, and curling up shivering in bed with 73 blankets to ward off the cold.

See, I'm feeling better about fall already. Five whole things! That's not too shabby. 

And maybe somewhere in there is a life lesson. Or a metaphor for embracing the things I cannot change. Something about serenity or courage or wisdom.

Nah.