Repeat

It just popped into my head. Standing outside the laundromat. It came like a sudden bolt of lightning that struck me square in the head. It won't leave. It must be important. The poorly lit faded grocery store, the run down dollar store, the abandoned ice cream shop, the tailor with photos that don't do the 80's hairstyles much justice. Then, the laundromat. With it's gleaming row up on row of shinning, whirring machines. Standing in awkward silence, barely able to hear the sound from the crappy sitcom. Black haired children screeching up and down the aisles. Finding some joy in the monotony that is the repetition of laundry. Wash. Dry. Hang. Fold.Wash. Dry. Hang. Fold.


Why did it make us so bitter. Hauling over flowing baskets of crumpled up socks and stained t-shirts. Bags of hangers. Hours sitting on hard chairs. Fighting. Every time we fought. I can't remember a time that we didn't. 


It's odd how memories that you've tucked away suddenly appear one day. Almost out of thin air. As if they are there to remind you of something. That a present event triggered a long ago forgotten moment. Even when we tuck things away life has a way of opening up those sealed treasure chests. I know it's often said to forget the past, but you wouldn't have your present with out it. 


Life is about washing away our faults. Drying our hands from things we regret. Folding up bad thoughts. Hanging on to insecurities. 


It's also about washing away insecurities. Drying up our fears. Folding away pre-conceived notions. Hanging on to the good moments in our life. 

Solitude

You can change your hairstyle, you can change your self esteem, you can rearrange your furniture, you can pep yourself up and say this is gonna be different. But. There are some things no matter how you finagle it are never going to change.  When you are sitting at home for the millionth time, mascara running and cat tail curled around your arm and you don't understand why. You've made an effort to meet new people, gone out on social outings, tried new things, met new people. Why. It's the only word that loops in your mind. It kills you to look in your fathers face and weep like a little girl. High heels rubbing against your toes, screaming. Like the voice in your heart. Why. What makes me stick out like a sore thumb yet disappear against the wallpaper. Why. Are you the person since the 8th grade dance has been smushed into pictures like a scraggly dog trying to be seen amongst the puppies. Do we all just have roles that we have been cast to play. Why do we look at the characters around us and want their leading role.  Is it the spotlight, the unknown, the mystery, the image that their world is better? Is acceptance that hard. Is acceptance, admitting defeat? Why is so hard to accept the role you've been cast to play. Is it because social mores and cues dictate otherwise? We're bombarded with images of what we should be and how are lives are suppose to stack up. We're being set up for failure. If I could have one superpower, I'd want to be able to blink and try it all again. To know what I do know and try it again. It's hypocritical really. I always say that things happen for a reason and yet here I am saying I wish that I could change it. If I hadn't had my heart broken, I'd never have met my guitar teacher, if I'd gotten my nursing license I'd never have the memories with my best friend. It's like being the kid in the candy store wanting it all but never able to quite reach the tippiest top shelf.

Hurt

It's like this little tiny knot that clinches itself in the middle of your breast bone. Little drops that hang on the cliff of your eye lids. It may be easier to just cry it out to curl up in your bed amongst the pile of socks that need to be sorted. Why is is that time and time again, weekend after weekend, sob after sob I'm left at home. The after thought to people's days. Why is it that change after change I can't seem to shake the victim role. I'm left at home waiting for a phone to ring. You made a promise not with the actual word but with your word as a friend. And it's not just one of you it's four of you. The four people who are the rocks in my life have yet again let me down. Why is it that I'm always waiting for people to squeeze me into their schedules. Why am I always surprised when you don't call why is it that I find it OK. Because I have so few people in my life that being mad at the very few would mean losing the only support that I have. There must be some recurring theme as to why people are always leaving my life. I just can't seem to find it. I've been searching for over ten years. Can someone rip off the band aid and tell me what I'm doing wrong.  I'd like to not be home on a Saturday night, alone, again.

LIFE IS GOOD

Well, world. I'm officially several pounds lighter and I'm not talking about from my hips. Nope, I'm talking about my heart. I washed my hands clean today. This feeling hasn't quite settled in yet. I still have this lingering feeling.

I've never been through a bad break up before but having gone through it I value the experience as a great tool and life lesson. I always thought that people who sobbed about hurting hearts needed to "man up" so to speak. I now take it all back. Having your heart ripped out of you like an alien abduction hurts like you have never known before. You feel quite literally like the expression, the rug has been pulled out from under you. I went to work that morning and tried my best to keep it together but in the end crumbled. I couldn't work, I couldn't function. Here was this person that I had developed two years of trust and confidence and had built a life with now suddenly it was all gone. In the blink of an eye my whole world was turned upside down.

Yet, I wouldn't trade the hurt the anguish and the few following weeks of sheer incapacity to function. Being knocked on my ass like that was the biggest wake up call I've received. It was self esteem boot camp. I had to go back and re-evaluate myself as a person, an individual, a member of society, my family life and my dreams. I never realized just how miserable I had been for 2 years. That I had been hiding my hurt and fear and insecureness in someone that had been enabling me to live like that. What kind of sick life is that ? Well, I can tell you now that it is no life.

Slowly, piece by piece, step by step I have begun to rebuild my self and my world. Moving back home with your parents could be an article or a blog unto itself. It has taken some getting used to, the giving up your space and independence and for me my kitchen.

I began by removing the social media traces, the phone number and today his belongings. They had been sitting in a box for far too long. A constant reminder of what used to be. Literal baggage sitting in my trunk. Sincerity and kindness were easy to fake through e-mails and text messages but maintaining that civility in person was not going to be easy. So, I  found a recruit. I had my best friend come along for both moral support and a welcome distraction.

Granted I was a half hour late but I swear to you I did not do that on purpose. This otherwise timely person just ran into some speed bumps on my way out the door. I didn't begin to feel the knots in my stomach until we began to near the restaurant. My whole body began to feel the nausea one may experience on a roller coaster ride. He looked as he did before,  only well, this is public domain so I'll be kind and abstain from commenting. The conversation was awkward but my friend helped keep it pleasant, if that's the appropriate word. I was ready to be done and the air was bitting my pale cheeks. My legs would not quit trembling, I was shaking worse than a leaf. All of the grief was beginning to wash away. I finally felt as though I could finally devote my whole heart to the new wonderful man in my life.

So, world. I give to you a woman who is happy, high on life, ready to tackle the world, able to conquer the unknown and as the sign in my room says:

"LIFE IS GOOD"


:)

Istanbul-Constantinople

I don't even want to re think about waking up this morning and looking around the room and then the town. Bleck. Just simple. Bleck. We scurried the heck on out of there. 

We hadn't gotten more than a few miles down the road when a tiny sign caught my eye.  We veered off the highway into another small side of the road town. We had a running theme of confusing signs this trip and it did not cease here. No siree bob.   The downtown was a circle with cars flying in and out with no clear rules being posted about which way was in or which way was out. Bracing myself I made it through the quarter mile of antique road hell. Finally spotting a sign we pulled up to a modest building that was flanked by a gallows. Never did I think that sentence would come out of my mouth. But, it has.

We walked into the museum and watched a very dated movie about the museum we were about to explore. Old signs and newspaper clippings lined various walls in a mismatched pattern. The large white door gave gently to a small push. The air instantly changed to bone chilling cold. It wasn't just the kind of cold where you shiver but one that reached deep inside of you. The rooms were no bigger than a grown man laying down and there were two beds per cell. Each room was flanked by white thick metal bars, no privacy was given to these men. The rest of the museum housed information about other local "celebrities" , including the first basketball coach to the Bulls, a Civil War general, and the radio station that played he first broadcast Beetle's song in the US. 

Back on the road we passed the time by making phone calls to loved ones and playing word games. I have to say I didn't realize the extent of my vocabulary till I began playing car games. I'm going to Istanbul to instantaneously invigorate immune iguanas. :) 

The air around us was drab and grey. The once rolling hills and round mountains were replaced with flat grassland and cornfields that no longer bared any fruit. 

I've been to several state capitals but never my own and I decided to change that fact. Pulling into Springfield was an odd experience. I began to feel intense animosity and political ire. The town was run down and dismal and it wasn't just the gloomy air around us. Buildings were shut down, houses were boarded up and graffiti lined several walls. The people were even walking with a sad stride. 

We lunched at "The Holy Land Diner", which really was a Middle Eastern vegetarianish buffet of sorts. We arrived rather late in their serving time so the pickings were scarce. However, what food was left was rather well received and fit the bill perfectly. After a few snapshots of the capitol building just to have for my collection we were on the road once more.

The time slowly came to a dwindling end and the trip that seemed like it had just begun was now over. I forged a strong bond with the brother that I was already close to. It's funny how when you're with a stranger that you have never met you run out of things to say but when you're with someone you've known your whole life there is an endless amount of conversation to be had. The trip may not make the National Geographic Chanel for it's amazing travels, but it will always hold a special place in my heart. I've been to some amazing places, met unique folk and created memories I'll never forget. 

Gosh I'm pooped...

Neither one of us felt much like moving this morning. We left the awakening process happen on its own....or rather by the sounds of children harking at ungodly hours of the morning. 

Game plan in hand we marched out the door and into a semi warmer and sunnier morning. For the third time we ( and I mean I) navigated the highways to downtown Asheville. Parking across the street we could smell delicious smells wafting our way. The shop was filled with college and business like folk. Either chatting to themselves on gadgets or to counterparts. My brain was overwhelmed with having so many choices.  Usually when faced with a menu I have to figure out how I'm going to tweak it to serve my needs but here...no tweaking was at all needed.. In the car I savored half of his hummus sandwich and could have easily devoured my entire chocolate croissant in one foul swoop. It was just unbelievable , and I've had my fair share of chocolate puff pastry confections.

Our plans, in fact the main reason we came down this far south, got derailed at a small visitor center just a few miles outside of Asheville. The man behind the desk after playing Jingle Bells on his hearing aids (please don't ask) informed us that the mountains had been blessed with 30 plus inches of snow. There was no way we were either a.) going to be able to make it through the roads nor b.) hike in those conditions. Heaving a very very deep sigh we decided to mosey on out and drive to Nashville. 

All be it the drive was gorgeous, stunning and breath taking. Wrap up all the words into a neat package that make you stop and muse for a moment and that was what that drive was like. Large thick icicles clung to the mountain sides, big boulders towered over head and tiny trees fighting for life stuck out like sore thumbs.

We said goodbye to the mountains as the drive continued.

Again, we were taken by surprise as large and small alike rain drops splish splashed on the windshield, at times clouding the view ahead. Nashville was a bustling town that afternoon. We found out that several venues were scheduled for that day. Parking was a nightmare and hellish robbery. Pooor poor signage nearly got us stuck in a cubicle that they called a parking area of sorts. I'd call it a way too small play pen for cars. 

The streets were filled to the brim with tourists all attracted by the bright flashing lights and barbequed piggy pies. We walked into a few stores and were sticker shocked at the first with cowboy hats that cost more than my pay check. My father would have been tickled at the record store that had shelves and shelves of vintage records. The state capital (not to sound like an adolescent middle schooler) was the lamest that I have been to .  There were a few statues that struck some interesting notes but other wise the facing and architecture were drab and otherwise a second fiddle to the busy music city. Hearing his stomach rumbling we headed to seek out BBQ. 

One person manned slapping meat onto plates while another rang up your bill and sloshed "veggies" onto your little Styrofoam tray. We had a really nice view in the upstairs seating area where the lights continued to dance and the rain continued to drizzle. 

The rain began to pick up as we ambled into Kentucky and southern Illinois. We weaved into the oddest rest stop that had been "closed to state funding." That seems to be the Illinois motto these days or at least the words I utter every five minutes at work. Anyhoo I got side tracked. 

I had seen on TV the festivals in Metropolis with a giant superman and had always semi wanted to go. Making a last minute decision we swerved  back onto the road and again followed signs that just yelled to go on blind faith and keep driving straight. He popped out of nowhere, well lit and donning a Santy Claus hat. Funny pictures and posing and side splitting laughter surrounded the plaster man of steel.

Making one wrong turn led us down a road that literally brought me to tears. I had a few tears of laughing fear from going down a road tht felt like a scene out of CSI. It didn't help that a deer appeared and stared us down with bright shinning eyes. I was never happier to see a major highway in my life. Ever. And I hate highways. 

Feeling the drag of the day we wound up in a hotel that makes you just scratch your head a lot...for several reasons....

Well, it was a busyish day that has left me tired and yeah tired.  Off until tomorrow..or should I say....

Up Up and Away! 

. 

I swatted and whacked and whomped and cursed at the invisible alarm clock that I could hear going off somewhere in the far distance. This annoying repetitive beep just would not stop. I looked at the unplugged grime filled alarm clock next to me and in my sleep addled brain could not figure out why it was not stopping. Every morning seems to involve some sort of misadventure with my alarm clock. I'm not exaggerating, at all.

A very beautiful room was home to a very sad breakfast. My brother's frozen bagel was accompanied by limpy looking previously frozen french toast "sticks" of sorts. I enjoyed an oh so gourmet bowl of instant oatmush. That's the only way to describe what was in my bowl. Sickeningly sweet, oat mush...

I honestly can't really remember much of that "early" morning drive other than I wound up on tiny back country winding roads with a GPS that was screaming so loud you thought it was your mother yelling about dirty laundry. Let me just tell you that middle of bumble f nowhere and GPS devices do NOT and I repeat do NOT go hand in hand. I felt as though I was playing a game of Mario Kart as I wound my way through a tiny highway. Sign after sign promised that were nearing the entrance,they lied...but, finally we arrived.

The quiet yet deafening roar of a waterfall could be heard in the still winter air. Going on blind faith we ambled toward what appeared to be the beginning of a trail. He spotted a padlocked gate and a winding paved sidewalk. After some hemming and hawing we decided to hop over and see what awaited us....

It was simply breathtaking. That's all there was to it. The small rainbow that danced in the frigid air amongst the strong waves of the waterfall. After our breath returned we hiked through crunchy snow covered forest where icicles hung with precipitous care. They stood larger than I am tall and with pride that couldn't be matched.

As we drove along the road and wound our way through confusing streets, mountains sprung up and enveloped us in their beauty.  They almost appeared to be hairy, like a woman's legs that hadn't been shaved in a while...little tiny trees dotted the mountain sides that stretched out in a sleepy yawn across the mid afternoon sun. 

Asheville is one of those towns that is a weird smush of  big town, small feeling atmosphere and....hippies.

Shop after shop was filled with incense burning and peace signs. Yet you didn't feel obligated to wear birkenstocks and chant. Every one was just calm and happy. Peaceful. 

Then, there were these guys..

'What are you photographing?" they asked..."Anything" I responded. So posed for a picture they did and handed them a few dollars did I, which, I'm almost positive was used to better mother earth. Or, something like that. ;)

Finally feeling the strain of clean mountain air and too many hours behind a wheel, we headed for the hotel for a little RnR. 

Driving back to the downtown we walked around and ate some mildly OK pad Thai at a restaurant that if you looked up the word "hole in the wall" this place would come up. Two men danced with each other to take customers orders and wait awkwardly to take plates away. 

The night wound down with ice cream from an "American Owned" grocery store and a TV show. Not sure what tomorrow will hold. I do know it'll continue to have memories that I'll hold onto for a very long time. 

Until tomorrow my friend(s)...adieu....