Well, that’s a loaded question. I suppose, to put it simply, just the rest of my life. 2019 was hard. It wasn’t awful, it was a sight better than 2018. I got to do quite a bit of traveling and spent some time in my favorite places. I always look forward to seeing new places; I have a vacation scheduled for Outer Banks. I’m also hoping to visit Graceland and see the ducks at the Peabody and stroll down Beale. We’ll see. I hope to eat some fine food and meet interesting, engaging people. I want to spend time in the company of those who make me laugh so hard my sides ache the next day. I want to reflect on how far I’ve come. I want work to be fulfilling, and I want to see conservation practices making a difference. I want the hellbenders to flourish. I desire love. I want to be happy. I need to feel content. I want the same thing everybody wants. I want to be appreciated and cherished.
This one was short and sweet, like me!
Get comfy. I’m a travelin’ son of a gun.
This could also be a compilation of all my sunburns. I think I get a sunburn everywhere I go.
I have never understood people who take the same vacation year after year. There are 3,797,000 square miles in America. Better hurry.
Of course when I started this, I was just remembering all the big, noteworthy trips. The more I wrote, the more I remembered.
#1) Charleston, West Virginia. Saw the capital. Not sure why we were there. I remember the tolls. I went with my Grandmother, mom, and I think maybe Aunt Bren.
#2) Nashville TN. Many times. Various reasons. Rode out there and back with Meg one evening to get a pair of blue jeans. Everybody said we were crazy. They weren’t wrong. Many, many trips for the Co-op for buying shows and conferences. Skeeter took me just to occupy my mind one May Day in 2001 🙂 40th birthday party for Lisa at the Opryland Hotel was a crap ton of fun. Last trip was the best one, though- brewery bounce with my bestie 🙂
#3) Akron, Ohio. Believe it or not, I have relatives in Yankeeland. Saw the Goodyear plant, where my great-grandfather once worked and his brother still did at the time (late 80’s). Jumped into the most perfectly made-up beautiful four poster bed of all time, embarrassing my mom & grandmother to no end. I’ve always had a weakness for old houses and old, beautiful things. If memory serves, the house was a brownstone.
#4) Myrtle Beach, SC. Three visits total in my life, and I’ll probably never go again. One of the most popular destinations for people in my area, I have since learned there are many more gorgeous beaches to visit. Some are even closer. But for my first beach trip when I was six, it was fantastic! And for senior trip just after graduation, I wouldn’t trade those memories for anything. My first vacation alone, as an adult, it was good to be in a place that was slightly familiar and not too far from home. I did have a good time. Excellent example of a destination that people visit repeatedly. I would say that it is the only beach many people from my county ever see. There’s nothing wrong with feeling comfortable somewhere, Charleston and Savannah are that for me, but I would have never discovered them if I hadn’t branched out.
#5) Great Smoky Mountains National Park. It’s literally twenty minutes from the house. Go all the time. Didn’t know until I was an adult that Cades Cove & Sugarlands are just two tiny aspects, the whole place is soothing and breathtaking. One of my favorite trails is Alum Cave, located on 441 going across the mountain. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen and totally unexpected when you come up on it. It makes me wonder what the first thought was of whoever discovered it. I love the Greenbrier area (Death Trail Ramsey Cascades excluded) and I appreciate that I can get to Metcalf Bottoms PDQ.
#6) Asheville, NC. Many times. Biltmore House for every season. Downtown Asheville is cool, but only for a weekend. Went in college for a John Lyons seminar. He’s so hokey. Coming through the gorge in all that fog in Misty’s enormous dually. Had a good time at a Walking Horse Show there, once…although the drive back in the wee hours was a little hairy. And went to Harrah’s a few times…one trip in particular stands out in my mind but I’m still under a gag order.
#7) Louisville, Kentucky. Off to the races! Churchill Downs is in the slums, but still a nifty place to see. I had a great time.
#8) Atlanta, Georgia. The first time I went I was in 8th grade. We went to some museum of science, Hard Rock Cafe, and the mall. I’ll let you decide what I liked best. (I love rock ‘n roll, so put another dime in the jukebox, baby). Been back a few times, and been through it, breathing hard and cussing. Atlanta is the Big City and I would not want to navigate it regularly. I almost crawled out of my skin last time I was stuck there in traffic.
#9) Lexington, Kentucky. Oh, the horses. The beautiful manors. The rolling meadows. I can’t get enough of Kentucky Horse Park. I hope to go to the races at Keeneland this spring. I wish I were a heiress to Spendthrift Farms. Dear Lord. What a gorgeous place.
#10) Shelbyville, TN. Home of the World Champion Walking Horse Celebration and Bedford Tack. *Hallelujah chorus* Another place I’ve visited multiple times with horse people. My bestie lived there for too short a time, I was all excited about having a clean, free place to stay during the show. So much for that. They’ve got one of the best Mexican restaurants I’ve ever had the pleasure of dining in. It’s legendary. I was talking to a fireman friend a few weeks ago, he’d been to some firefighting training there that lasts for weeks and he knew all about it, too!
# 11) Kingsport/ Harrogate, TN line: Horse sales & shows in my college years. Harrogate has that big tunnel over into Middlesboro Kentucky. It’s pretty wild.
#12) Sticks of West Virginia. Meeting family of a guy I almost married. Fed a baby bites of a cheeseburger. “Is this small enough?” “….uhhhh….rip it in half….then rip it in half again.” That baby is 16 now.
#14) Charlotte, South Carolina. Meeting more family of the same guy. We went to Carowinds, where I learned that not all amusement parks are created equal. Carowinds doesn’t care if you fall out of their roller coasters. They haves some good ones, but I strongly recommend you thoroughly check your own safety harness.
#15) Fall Creek Falls, near Cookeville TN. This was just about the creepiest place I’ve ever set foot in, beat out only by the Lightner Mansion in St. Augustine. It didn’t help we (Co-op Pet Professionals) were there in the dead of winter. The nearest gas station was over ten miles away. Seriously the boondocks. I swear, it was like the Overlook Hotel from The Shining. All that dark paneling and soaring ceilings in the lobby and dining room, looking out over the lake….jeepers. I stayed lit in the hospitality room with colleagues just to keep my mind off the weirdness enough to sleep for a few hours. I didn’t walk back to my room alone, either. *full body shiver* I hear it’s nice in the summer, though. But something about the deserted lake and the stagnant pool….no thanks.
#16) Me & Misty went to Ashland, Ohio back in the day to pick up a repair piece for a boring machine. Google maps shows it takes 7 hours and three minutes to get there from their house. The guy at the dealership was flabbergasted. “Where’d y’all come from?” “Jefferson City, Tennessee.” “Oh, yeah? When did you come up?” “Drove up this morning.” “Didja now? When you headed back?” “Right now.” “WHAT?!” I thought he was gonna eat his hat. We ate Arby’s, then almost ran out of gas on the intestate, uphill in traffic, even though I had repeatedly reminded her to stop. So we were gone at LEAST sixteen hours. Probably closer to twenty. I remember dragging in what felt like was the middle of the night. What a day. And night.
#17) Minneapolis, Minnesota. Does it count if you never leave the airport? I could have, seems like on every trip through there I have an hours-long layover, but it’s always like, 30 below zero. They should have built the Mall of America right up against it. But the airport is a shopping experience, too. I remember I was through it for a Co-op trip, found a Vera Bradley purse I liked but I didn’t buy it. When I was back through a week later with my boyfriend, he bought it, and the woman remembered me! It’s pink paisley, and of course I had to have it because the style is named Amelia! I still have it.
#18) Lincoln, Nebraska. Another Co-op trip, courtesy of Pfizer Pharmaceuticals. We stayed in the Embassy Suites downtown in the Brickyard. It was February, and all the bars were giving out beads for Mardi Gras. I had an absolute BLAST. We toured Excel Meat Packing, some production farms, and of course the Pfizer headquarters. I remember seeing my first Burmashave signs: “If daisies are/ Your favorite flower/ Keep pushing up/ Those miles per hour/ Burma Shave” Headed back to the airport on the bus, it was just breaking dawn and we were hurtling past all these fallow cornfields and I remember thinking the sunrise was going to be spectacular. I was soooooo hungover but forced myself to stay awake to see it. I had envisioned sherbet rays of light stretching all the way across the horizon, fluid as an egg yolk. And all that happened was the sun went from navy blue to nearly white and the sun came up and hurt my head worse.
#19) Kansas. The only thing I remember definitively besides the sunflowers is the Cracker Barrel. Oh, yes, and Cabela’s. It was the biggest one in the world. It was really something. Knifeworks doesn’t hold a flame to it. They have taxidermied animals everywhere, and a whole room of trophy bucks.
#20) Illinois. Where I acquired my first set of antennae at a truck stop at one in the morning.
#21) Iowa. It was flat and I was amazed anyone would choose to live there. But to each their own. It’s beautiful in its own right. Like the silos against the wheat fields. They are feeding America. I liked seeing trains. On one trip,we were flying down the interstate, trying to make it far enough so the next day would be easy traveling to the rodeo. It was 4th of July weekend and I called the KOA to make reservations. (Ha, reservations. No pun intended. Lots of Indian reservations out there). I called Sioux Falls KOA instead of Sioux City. We’d just passed through Sioux Falls, so it was on my mind, I guess. We get to Sioux City, they’re booked up, and don’t have our reservations. I break out my phone to prove I’d called them. They took pity on me and found us a site. I’m guessing it happens frequently. I would have slept in a tree if it had meant I could get a hot shower. I think that may have been the campground I got lost in, too. You go to so many….and you’re so tired…I drank a lot of Evian water and ate a lot of Snickers ice cream bars in those days.
#22) Alma, Nebraska. My first encounter with a cremated pet. He resided on the mantle. My first encounter with men who were clearly not gentlemen and bars that would serve 18-year-olds. My first experience of peeing in the middle of a frozen road in broad daylight because there was no store for miles. The first time I ever shot a prairie dog. I would liken it to the arcade game of Whack-a-mole. I learned what it was like to be an outsider in a small town, and marveled at how much their downtown reminded me of Northern Exposure. They had a Subway, a drugstore, a hairdresser, a hardware store, and a movie theater. The movie theater was showing movies we’d had in Knoxville six months prior. This was 2005. I got my first text message ever while I was there and it took me forever to figure out how to open it, because I thought it was a voicemail. I saw people ice fishing on the Repub lake. We had spaghetti before heading back and I was sick most of the way home. We made several trips there that year. It’s about 18 hours if you drive it straight. And it can be done, with the help of Twizzlers and AC/DC.
#23) St. Louis, Missouri. We joked about just dropping me off at my hotel on the way back home from Nebraska, since I was flying out the next morning to see the Purina Research Farm. But my cousin had never flown and was petrified, so I came all the way back to East Tennessee to ride with her. We’re sitting in those super uncomfortable plastic chairs at the gate when she whispers to me, “I’ve got money in my shoes.” “What are you talking about?” I was exhausted, I’d only had three or fours hours of sleep and my eyes were like sandpaper and I could feel every hair on my head. I have A LOT of hairs on my head, by the way. “I put a hundred dollar bill in both socks in case somebody steals my pocketbook.” I didn’t want to laugh at her, but she was already freaked out about our plane getting delayed and missing our connecting flight, so my advice was for her to take another Dramamine. Once we boarded, I blissfully passed out. You parents know the feeling- when you wake up and you feel like somebody is staring at you? Like they’re RIGHT THERE? Well, I woke up and Tammy was about two inches from my face with her big ol’ blue eyes terrifyingly wide. “What is it?” I asked, wiping drool. “We’re crashing.” “We’re not crashing,” I said, looking around at the other passengers, most of whom were reading or sleeping. A bump. Turbulence. I could tell you a million stories from this trip, but Tammy would kill me. I did get to see a cow with a hole in its stomach and a horse gallop on a treadmill, both of which rank VERY COOL on my personal Cool Chart.
#24) Pensacola, Florida. This was the first time I quit Co-op. I had a rodeo to attend. They wouldn’t let me off for a half day- a Saturday. So I quit. And it was worth it, even though I got one of the worst sunburns of my life. It was the first time I ever went to Florida and experienced their white sand beaches. Although I understand Pensacola is man-made, I still loved it. I would like to go back and explore their downtown area, it looked hip.
#25) Birmingham, Alabama. To pick up some sort of machinery that leaked like a sieve. Maybe a road grater? I don’t know. I don’t plan to ever go back, it was a thousand wonders we weren’t shot. That place is ROUGH.
#26) Chattanooga, TN. In conjunction with the machinery trip, which is the only reason I agreed to go. Went to the aquarium. Had a nice time downtown. Did we ride a carriage? I’ve been there a few times. It’s kinda like Asheville, ok for a day or two.
#27) Seattle, Washington. The beginning of extensive travel for the summer. When we flew out of Knoxville, it was 88 degrees. We flew into Seattle and you know how they always give you the time and temperature before you land just to help you acclimate….it was 53. I’ll never forget it. I had packed a hot pink knee-length linen dress with strappy heels for the wedding and a swimsuit for the beach. It was JUNE. Anyway, Seattle is blustery and the people are grouchy, which I suppose is to be expected with that kind of climate. And who would want to live on the coast but not be able to swim? It would make me grouchy, too.
#28) Newport Bay, Oregon. This place quickly won me over with its quirky charm and good-natured locals. I did quite a bit of shopping, acquiring Oliver the Octopus. He rode home on my lap, no way was I putting him in a suitcase to fly across the whole entire United States. The aquarium was phenomenal, I got a hug from an urchin and touched starfish and all kinds of stuff. I fed sea lions parts of my salad over the deck rail. I counted washed up jellyfish on the beach. It was the first time I had ever spent my birthday away from home. This was the beginning of my charm bracelet. I didn’t want to accumulate a t-shirt from every place I went. They fall apart if you don’t outgrow them first. So I got a sea turtle at the aquarium gift shop.
#29) Sisters, Oregon (& Mt. Hood) I love trees. And the ones in the Pacific Northwest don’t mess around. They are gigantic. What struck me was that you couldn’t really tell how enormous they are until you saw them next to a building. There’s no undergrowth. Like here, we have blackberry brambles and all sorts of privet and stuff growing–out there, it’s all “clean” forests. That’s the best way I know how to describe them. You could walk a mile in and I’d still be able to see you. No dense low growing vegetation. Justifiably, we were in Oregon for a wedding…but why not enter up in the famous ten day rodeo over in Sisters while we’re on this side of the country? I saw the one armed Bandit in one of his final performances at the rodeo. It was really something. Entry fees were over $300 and this was 2005. I brushed my teeth with my finger at a completely deserted rest stop. I was too tired to unpack it from my bag. We’d slept in the car. “I’m hot….I’m cold….” This was when I was still adjusting to rodeo life and I remember hitting the alarm on the keyfob to find the car in the (dirt and tree-studded) parking lot. I couldn’t have told you for money the first thing about that car. Other than when we picked it up at the airport, we argued with whether we’d rented through Enterprise or Budget. Didn’t matter, the power had been out and the computers were down so they didn’t know, either. This was also the morning I ate about a pound of hash browns and then I thought the gas station attendant was going to call the law because I got out of the car when we pulled up at the fuel pumps. I just wanted to get a drink and he about popped a vein.
#30) Wyoming. “I’ve never packed pliers for a vacation before.” Hawk Springs was my first experience. We’d gone out to work cattle at the Salers/ RL Ranch. My job was to work the gate and give LA-200 to the ones who needed it. I was born for that job. After two days of that, we journeyed west to the Cow Camp in Casper, where we would spend the next two weeks building fence that gets torn down by elk, deer, and the snowpack every winter. My job was to drive the four wheeler with supplies and carry the clips. We had driven through some deserted towns to get there, places that the government would pay for you to come out and start a family. These abandoned wide spots in the road needed residents willing to commute 100+ miles to work in post offices, libraries, town halls. They wanted to recruit young families. My first memory of Casper was a Sinclair station, complete with a green Brontosaurus out front (I SO wish I had gotten my picture with it, they’re a thing of the past) and a posting on the bulletin board inside for an “Alligator and all the fixin’s”. Not as a dish, as a PET. I also wish I had taken a picture of that. Anyway, the first night was spent at the original ranch house. It wasn’t too bad, once you got past all the boxelder bugs. The shower left plenty to be desired, I could have punched holes in a two-liter bottle and gotten more pressure. Funny what you remember, isn’t it? I woke up choking in the middle of the night, I don’t know if it was heartburn from my dinner at the truck stop, or if I’d swallowed a bug, or if it was the ghost of the original owner. The ranch manager was inclined to believe the latter, and I was, too. It was eerie. But that trip was epic on every level, from hunting rattlesnakes (not EVEN kidding) to driving across 10,000 acres on a four wheeler with two dogs and nothing to help me but a hand drawn paper map to meet the crews with supplies and lunch. I did my business in an outhouse. I went five days without a shower and cried. I saw elk, mule deer, and pronghorn antelope every day. What an adventure. A few months later we visited Yellowstone and watched the nightly rodeo in Cody. I don’t think he competed in that one. I saw Chris Ledoux and his son and nearly passed out. Everybody treated him like he was just another dude. Which I guess he was, to them. Wyoming is fairly desolate, and honestly only certain parts look inhabitable. Town signs reading population of 50 or less were common.
#31) Yellowstone National Park/ Jackson Hole. Gorgeous place. Everything looked so clean. We ate at a steakhouse and the bill was almost as much as I made in two days at the Co-op. Most of Yellowstone smells bad, so I will always prefer the Smokies. It’s due to all that sulfur boiling out of the ground everywhere. That’s why you can’t just go off walking across fields, you’re liable to step in a geyser hole. And that’s if a buffalo or moose doesn’t charge you first–buffalo can run up to 35mph! (They give you a handout as soon as you pay at the entrance to tell you what to watch out for). Old Faithful is way more impressive than I thought it would be. Everywhere in the park there is a clock, there are two. One is for the next time old faithful will erupt, the other is for, obviously, the time. And everybody dutifully troops out there on the boardwalk and counts down and cheers. It’s loads of fun!! I would almost liken it to a football game where everybody is rooting for the home team. I saw Mammoth Hot Springs (smelled so bad I had to keep my shirt over my nose), the mudpots (CUTE!!! If dirt can be considered cute), elk, grizzlies, and a million buffalo. We hiked out a trail to view the impressive “Lower Falls” waterfall in the Grand Canyon. At one point, I remember signs warning visitors not to pull over due to Bald Eagles nesting in the area. That was funny to me, as I frequently seen them fishing here at home. I mean, not that the’re as common as crows here, you’ll always have that little intake of breath at their majestic figure, but it was just funny. {Sidebar: saw one on my way into work just this morning, flying over the golf course from the river). We stayed in some big Lodge for a couple of nights just to feel normal again- it’s hard to live out of a camper for a month, no matter how much fun you’re having. There were signs in several languages everywhere, and a buffet set up 24/7 to accommodate people from all different time zones.I remember printing pictures off the digital camera, and having all of our laundry done.
#32) Salt Lake City, Utah (And I’m leaving ol’ Salt Lake, with a push and a pull). Like I’ve said before, it’s funny what you remember about places .For SLC, I remember seeing billboards for opiate addiction. And I remember seeing their synagogues. But mainly I remember their airport, because I spent the night in a chair there, trying to get a flight out. Wind? Snow? Sandstorm? I don’t remember the issue of why we were trapped. We also drove through it, stopping to see the wonders of Bryce & Zion canyons, which are nearly as incredible as the Grand. One of them had a tunnel to drive through and they had to stop traffic from the oncoming lanes so we could drive up the middle of the road so as not to scrape the camper. We had to carry a baton to the other side to signify we were last in line and it was safe to open it back. I remember being quite carsick on the way into one of them from a greasy fast food breakfast…and reading on the twisty road into it…
#33) Arkansas. Just another interstate to get down.
#34) Oklahoma. Ok, Oklahoma’s defining detail were their rest areas. While most places have standard brick buildings housing tons of brochures and a disinterested employee and perhaps a friendly custodian, these were concrete teepees. I shit you not. And the picnic tables were shaded by more teepees. Driving, you know how you pass the signs alerting you to what county you’re in? And in Tennessee, which watershed! 🙂 And yes, parishes in Louisiana. Well, in Oklahoma, you’re in Sioux Nation, or Chocktaw Nation and what have you. You know I’m terrified of Indians. We couldn’t get through there fast enough. This was also my first experience with not having a radio signal. For HOURS. So we listened to a book on CD from Cracker Barrel.
#35) Texas. I’d been looking forward to visiting Texas my whole life. Disappointed in Amarillo, from what I seen it could have been West Knoxville. I guess I should go back and stay in the old downtown area.
#36) New Mexico. The first place I’d ever encountered open range. And actually saw cattle in the road. Blew my mind. In Tucumceri I felt like I was in Thelma & Louise, I swear it looked just like that exit where they holed up at that hotel & Thelma was down by the pool. We ate at Denny’s with other highway vagabonds keeping a low profile. I saw a HUGE jackrabbit and waited out a massive electrical storm in the camper. He had entered up at the Santa Fe Rodeo (they call it Rodeo de Santa Fe to give it a Spanish slant) and I did some shopping in their ritzy boutiques. I don’t know what those people have to be so snobby about, they don’t even have grass. And their houses are made of mud. But this is where I saw a queen of the rodeo fall off her horse AND Joe Beaver compete, who had had a few too many and was slightly belligerent. We also picked up pieces of Route 66 in Oklahoma, New Mexico, and Arizona. I got a charm to commemorate.
#37) Arizona. No Painted Desert, no Sedona…remember that song? Well, I’m here to tell you there IS a Painted Desert and it is DESOLATE. It would make anybody contemplate suicide. Well, anybody that’s ever been acquainted with the mountains and trees. I just couldn’t get used to it. And the wind nearly knocked me off my feet more than once. You could only open one truck door at a time or everything in the cab became a cyclone and you would never get the door shut again. I also saw the petrified forest, which wasn’t nearly as cool as I had envisioned since learning about it in 2nd grade. The best part was the rock stores every mile or two. I love rocks. I saw a stump that was $23,000!!! After driving south on some twisty ass highway (191) for a million miles through mountains (for real, with trees and everything) we came up on what I just KNEW was another Area 51. All this 12′ chain link and no trespassing signs ever so often. Turns out it was just the world’s largest copper mine. The whole town was the mine & the name was Plantsite. I just googled it and looks like they’ve changed the name to Morecini. Highway 191 was also where a black bear ran across the road in front of us and I was reaching for the camera and my newly acquired charm bracelet got hung up in the spiral binding of the road atlas and I thought me & my bracelet were going to be left on the side of that winding highway. But all is well after 50 miles of the silent treatment. We spent the better part of a day in the Saguaro National Park, where I was mesmerized. I had always envisioned those cacti being about 6′ or 7′ tall. My opinion was based solely on education from Saturday morning cartoons, where Wiley Coyote and the Roadrunner are darting around and the cowboys mistake the cacti for men and shoot them. So imagine my surprise to find them 40 & 50′ tall!! They’re MAGNIFICENT. I couldn’t get enough. And they’re all as different as trees; some have only two arms (like I had pictured), some have five or more. It’s craaaaayzeeee. And the owls nest in them and eventually kill them, so their arms slowly rot off. Next up was Phoenix, where the dash of the truck warned me it was 113. When people liken it to an oven, that’s an accurate description. So dry, you just want to dump water on your head. Next stop was Montezuma Castle, a five level Indian dwelling carved into the side of a rock formation. It was only $3 to get in, and if you’re ever out that way, I totally recommend it. Here’s the link to their page: https://www.nps.gov/moca/index.htm And finally we arrived at the Grand Canyon, which was breathtaking. All I could think about was what if it was the olden days and I was making my way across America in my covered wagon with my whole family and run up on this. What did the pioneers do? Besides die of dysentery? It was just mind boggling how immense it is. We had planned to take a helicopter through it, but the flights were all cancelled for some system that was passing through. And rafting was out, you have to book those more than a year in advance. I wasn’t too keen on busting my head on a rock, anyway (but a fiery helicopter crash was evidently A-ok). Oh, and riding astride a sweaty donkey two miles didn’t appeal to me, either.
#38) Bear Lake, Idaho. This is one of my very favorite places overall. It would be hard for me to choose between it, Savannah, and the Oregon Coast. Idaho is really something special. It’s breathtaking, it’s pristine, and there’s hardly anybody!! We were there at the height of tourist season, and I didn’t even have to wait in line at the ice cream stand. I cannot describe to you how blue the water of the lake was. Or how ice cold.
#39) Some sleepy little grizzly bear infested town in Montana. I remember the grocery store, mainly. I was transported to Seymour, circa 1985. Paperbacks on a spinny rack, unfamiliar brands of meat, including elk and bison by the pound. Probably roadrunner, too. I could easily envision this town as a gold mining spot, with wooden sidewalks and tumbleweeds blowing down the middle of the street. It wasn’t so far removed from that image present day.
#40) North & South Dakota/ Mt. Rushmore. Badlands (more wind, more buffalo), stopped off in some ghost town and it was 100% creepy. Poked around in some antique shops but I just had a bad feeling. I remember signs all over those two states advertising dinosaur museums, dinosaur souvenirs, and all kinds of places still trying to cash in on Dances With Wolves fame. That’s all they’ve got besides Wall Drug, which I had been spotting signs for since TEXAS. We did stop (the parking lot is about the size of Dollywood’s) and the first person we saw was Carrot Top “Yeah it’s me,” he said as we walked by. Wall Drug was kinda hokey, but I actually enjoyed it. They DO have coffee for 5 cents, and I think I remember Dave getting a haircut there. And maybe he bought a Stetson, too? Hard to say. I believe this is the state where we found the craziest flea market ever. It was just off the interstate and kinda like something I’ve read about in a Neil Gaiman novel. All these half cocked people wearing Indian headdresses, skins of dead creatures, moth-eaten sweaters, tank tops advertising stuff that happened in the 80’s….like a trip to another dimension. We ran up on this ol’ boy selling dead animals in various states of taxidermy. We’re like, “where do you find all this stuff?” He rubs the back of his neck, draws on his left-handed cigarette (oh yeah), squints at us real careful, and says, “I buy some, I shoot some….” “I poach some…” we laughed once we were safely back in the truck. We had purchased a buffalo skull and some porcupine quills. A moth flew out of the skull once we got back home and unpacked it. Yikes.
#41) Bowling Green, Kentucky. Even though my aunt lived there for several years, I wasn’t visiting her. No, Co-op sent a group of us to tour the new Universal Animal Health Warehouse. About the only other thing available for entertainment was the Corvette Museum, so we toured that with drinks in hand. A few years later, it was swallowed by a sinkhole.
#42) Las Vegas, Nevada (& Hoover Dam). As a rule, I hate the desert. And Vegas is most absolutely smack dab in the middle of the desert. But it’s one sparkling, exciting bright spot. It’s another place I don’t care about staying for an extended amount of time, three days is about right. But I don’t gamble, so it loses some allure after I’ve eaten and drank my fill. I rode the rooftop roller coaster at New York New York alone at midnight and I saw many brides playing video games and the slots in their wedding attire (or maybe they just dressed like that so people would give them chips? Not a bad idea). I drank a few at an Irish bar and bought some very Vegas souvenirs at a few different shops. I went to see the dolphins at Mandalay Bay one night after dinner (there was a bottle of wine on the list that was more than I made in a month). I had heard that nothing ever closes in Vegas, but turns out, the dolphin show does. So I had this five mile trek back to my hotel (MGM), cutting through Luxor, Excalibur, & New York, New York. It doesn’t seem so far when you’re looking at it on a map….but when you’re on foot…at one in the morning…Vegas wears a little thin. I had long abandoned my heels. Fortunately all the hotels intersect so you can pass from one fluidly into the next without having to get on the street (except crossing the walking bridge over the strip from NY NY to MGM). There was a black man who was trying to hit on me at one point and I acted like I didn’t speak English after just regular ignoring him didn’t work. I finally ducked into a bathroom and he gave up. I didn’t feel threatened, I know that Vegas is one of the safest places you can go as long as you stay in the casinos. Yes, I saw lots of hookers on both my trips, and of course random guys on the street passing out their escort cards. MGM isn’t quite as nice as the Bellagio, and it’s much bigger. It took me a solid ten minutes to get from my room to the conference room where our meetings were held. The Bellagio is where the dancing water is, and also where I saw Cirque du Soleil, which is fantastic. Our tickets were in the nosebleeds and still over $100. I bought $30 worth of M&Ms which I feared were lost with my luggage, but everything made it back to me a couple of days after I got home. Bottom line: Vegas is exhausting. Don’t go there for vacation. Best part? I met my very good friend Jill on the work trip <3
#43) Savannah, Georgia. Three visits, and still I can’t get enough. I love Savannah, with its sleepy charm. I love the history, the architecture, the ghosts. I love the river and how you can get drinks to go and there’s no such thing as walking too slow. I love how the people of Savannah aren’t out to impress anybody, and are intellectually bohemian. I think it’s a super cool place and I feel right at home every time I go. It’s truly magical to me. I could waste all day just sitting on a bench in one of the squares. But I wouldn’t consider it a waste, no sirree. I never have trouble getting a table anywhere I go, even if they’re lined up waiting. My drink order is always perfect and it’s just like the city presents its best self while I’m there. Tybee Beach is only 30 minutes away, and I’ve never been when it was busy. As a matter of fact, I always park in the same little pull off with the meter, if that tells you anything. If you only had a day to spend, I would send you to Jackson Cathedral first thing, then put you on a carriage for a ride around the squares, Forsyth Fountain, Molly MacPherson’s on Congress for lunch (get the turkey club with cranberry mayo and granny smith apple slice), quick perusal of the market, a stroll through Bonaventure on your way to supper at the Crab Shack, a nighttime walking ghost tour, a free praline at River Street Sweets, and into the The Cotton Exchange for a drink and maybe a little snack.
#44) San Antonio, Texas. This was for another Co-op animal health trip. It was my first Valentine’s Day married and I had spent the better part of the day at the stockyards and then the rodeo seeing Thompson Square. No complaints. Valentine’s holds no romance for me. I have a picture somewhere of this food truck that sold bacon cheeseburgers on glazed doughnuts. You can buy draft beer pretty much any hour of the day in Texas, as long as it’s Lone Star. We were staying at some hotel on the Riverwalk, so I made the most of that, walking miles every evening. One night the whole group of us took a riverboat to a steakhouse for dinner. I saw the Alamo and visited some super ritzy antique jewelry stores. Everyone I encountered was super friendly and helpful, and treated me like a queen when they found out I was from Tennessee. Somebody even gave me a shot glass with Mark Twain’s famous line, “You may all go to Hell, and I will go to Texas.” I bought a t-shirt that said that, too.
#45) New Orleans, Louisiana. I have long been quoted as saying, “If I ever get an opportunity to go to New Orleans, all I’m taking is a fork”. This was the craziest trip ever. Talk about spur of the moment, which happens to be my preferred means of living. I went with the wife of the only man who’s ever given me TWO speeding tickets. I barely knew her, but we were Facebook friends so she always saw me writing about books I was reading set in New Orleans and my strong desire to see it first hand. It’s her hometown, and she was feeling homesick, and had tagged me and some family in a post, lamenting how much she wished she were going home to celebrate the end of Carnival. And I’m like, “uhhh….I’m burning up my vacation that rolled from last year, I’m off till Thursday” and she’s like, “seriously?” & I’m like, “I never joke about vacation”. And so she starts hunting hotels. I go to bed, wake up the next morning to a text message that says, “Pack your bags, I’ll pick you up at noon” and away we went. She gets to the house & opens the trunk of the rental, and there were two aluminum step ladders. “I’ve never taken ladders on a vacation before…” But if you’ve been reading carefully you know that I did once pack pliers. The ladders are used for viewing the parade and having the edge on short people if you’re at the back of the crowd. I made new friends of some sweet locals that guarded my ladder for me when I had to have a food or restroom break (you’re out there for twelve hours a day). They took their job very seriously. The people of NOLA are eccentric to the extreme, but they know their manners. Perfect strangers pass you on the street and look you in the eye and say “good morning”. They greet you before ringing up your purchases and EVERYBODY says “Happy Mardi Gras” instead of “Happy Valentine’s” and if there was no other reason to love it other than that, that would be good enough for me. I love New Orleans with all my heart. There are still dozens of things I have to go back and see, including some grand plantations and swamp tours. I want to poke around in the French Quarter even more, and buy some potions. I have the coolest souvenirs from there and the food is so flavorful and fun to eat. There is no better place in the world for people watching. Did you know England sent over prisoners and prostitutes to settle the city? It’s true. They promised them if they could thrive here in the new America, they were free. It was all swamps and mosquitoes and malaria back then, but New Orleans came by its reputation honestly. But they’re all perfectly accepting of however you are. And the lake!!! Holy COW!! That’s the longest bridge I’ve ever been across. (And for good reason, it’s the longest one in the WORLD, 24 miles!!!!) I think everywhere we went, things just opened up for us. I said on our first day in the Quarter, “I’d like to eat lunch on one of these balconies” {overlooking Bourbon Street} they were all crammed with people. This woman steps out of a doorway & says, “Y’all hunting some good lunch? We’ve got room on the balcony.” and escorts us up the steepest, oldest iron staircase in the city. This was after we’d walked right into Cafe du Monde that morning and sat down at their last table outside. “New Orleans is being sweet to you,” Suzi winked, knowing good juju when she saw it. It’s all over the top fantastic and I could write about it for days. I haven’t even touched on the music that follows you everywhere you go, and the lovely smiles of people of all ages and races who are just as enamored with New Orleans as we all are. It’s simply enchanting.
#46) Charleston, South Carolina and Isle of Palms. Another place I can’t seem to get my fill of. Four times and counting, and my favorite trip may have been the one at Thanksgiving. Although the first trip was a dandy, too. There’s lots to see, which equates to lots of walking. I have now visited all the plantations, including the Tea Plantation. Each one is unique and wonderful. I’ve toured most of the historical homes and been over nearly every inch of downtown. I’ve been out to Fort Sumter twice and toured the aircraft carrier and submarine out in Mount Pleasant. There’s no shortage of things to do. And the food!!! I strongly recommend Charleston. It may not be the best getaway if you have kids, but for a beautiful city on the ocean, it can’t be topped. I feel like a local here, maybe even more so than Savannah, maybe because I’ve never gone to Savannah alone. People ask me directions all the time, and bartenders and their locals are shocked when I tell them where I’m from. This last time they were like, “But you live here now, right??”
#47) Seaside, Florida. Not my favorite. Definitely snooty. The beach is perfect, though, with that sugar white sand. And Seaside is home to the cutest post office in existence. I just desire a more down-to-earth vibe, you can tell these people wish tourists would find somewhere else to vacation. And so I will. But I liked it well enough to ride out a Category 2 hurricane.
#48) Helen, Georgia & Tallulah Falls. Puke, gag, terrible memories. This little German-esque town at the beginning of the Appalachian mountain range. I hated it. To me, it was just Gatlinburg with schnitzel. And I nearly died at the bottom of the gorge. It was June, one hundred degrees with 100% humidity, and I hadn’t eaten or slept very much for about a week. That trip was just another in a long line of mistakes.
#49) St. George Island, Florida, and Apalachicola. I would definitely visit this Florida town again. Apalachicola is everything Seaside is not. I ate my weight in their signature oysters every day (Hole in the Wall in Apalachicola is most authentic and best quality, Owl Cafe is a little fancy but delicious) and meandered happily all over the place. The only problem with staying on the island is the FOUR MILE long bridge to get over to it. I mean, what if a storm blew out the bridge? I can’t swim four miles. St George State Park is a rare peaceful place that I found true contentment, floating on my back, buck naked, in the Gulf of Mexico at sunset. Ha!! Do you wish you’d quit reading around #10?? Sharkbait! Woo-ha-ha!
#50) Johnson City/ Jonesboro TN. Most recently for a work trip, but I went a couple of years ago with my friend Jeannie. We had lunch and rifled through all the antique stores. This last time I carried an old wooden coatrack all the way up the middle of downtown to my hotel on the hill and then had to open my sunroof to get it in my car. As far as Johnson City is concerned, let’s all join hands and be thankful I didn’t run up on a certain somebody that would have most assuredly bought me a night in jail because I would have cut her guts out right there on the street. And I wouldn’t be sorry.
#51) Juliette, Georgia. My little divorce trip. I wanted to go see the town where Fried Green Tomatoes was filmed. Fried Green Tomatoes is a wonderful feel-good movie about being a gritty southern woman. A Steel Magnolia, if you will. To ruin it for you, a girl kills her best friend’s no-count cheatin’ husband, barbecues him, and feeds him to the police investigator 🙂 I told you it was a feel good movie. I had a most enjoyable day, shopping and eating fried green tomatoes and BBQ at the Whistle Stop Cafe, but I don’t recommend a special trip down there. It’s only a few miles off the interstate, so just make a side trip when you’re coming back from Florida. No reason to brave Atlanta traffic any more than you have to. Also, Forsyth has a neat little downtown area. I had dinner at a place named Grits, it was superb. They had creme brulee.
#52) St. Augustine, Florida. This trip was sort of an accident. How do you accidentally end up in Florida, you ask? Well, it’s the hurricane’s fault. Twice now I’ve had outer Banks all lined up. Accommodations, horseback riding on the beach, the whole nine yards. Two years in a row, a hurricane has passed directly over top OBX and I’ve had to scramble for something else to do. This year, it was LITERALLY the day before. Everybody had pretty much disregarded the hurricane’s impact, but the eye passed right over Buxton and almost stalled, flooding the whole island chain. So emergency personnel were airlifting people out on the day I was supposed to be coming in. Luckily, I remembered several friends recommending St. Augustine to me, assuring me I would love it because of the rich history. Well, turns out, I’m not much on the Revolutionary War and Spanish Influence, I’m a War of Northern Aggression kinda gal. And also, it was the most miserably hot week of the year. Fountain of Youth was hokey as all get out but I still loved it. The Castillo fort was pretty neat. There is no shortage of alcohol in the city (thankfully, or I would have been dehydrated in no time from the blazing heat). I was treated like a local in St. George Tavern. Scarlett O’Hara’s was kinda boring, but you know I couldn’t pass that place up! I liked the vibe at Prohibition Kitchen, but for brunch you CANNOT TOP The Casablanca Inn. Have a Caprese benedict & bloody Mary in my honor. The lighthouse is pretty cool, and there’s a maritime museum there, too. The ocean was rough almost every day; it knocked me over and rolled me every time I got in, so I finally just gave up and only went walking early in the morning or at night. Lightner museum is the most haunted place I’ve ever sat foot in, I practically ran out after having some sort of anxiety attack. I didn’t even get the heebies in the old jail, alone. So weird. There’s a bunch of places to eat without going into the city, Aunt Kate’s is overlooked (in my opinion) in favor of Cap’s. I had delicious meals at both places, Cap’s is more upscale, though. Kingfish is a cool spot right across the bridge. And then I stumbled on this place called Casa Benedetto’s on Google. It was rated in top 10 for all St. Augustine area restaurants and had over 1000 reviews. So I knew it had to be something. I punch it into my GPS & Maggie delivers me to the front of this…how should I say it? Vintage Route 66 looking concrete building painted light blue with a matching Crown Vic in the handicapped space out front. A young guy in a yellowed wife beater was pressure washing dandelions out of the cracks in the patio while he smoked a Marlboro. I doubled checked my phone, but there was only one Casa Benedetto’s. I wasn’t sure about this at all. I was even less sure after I walked in and saw an ancient, decrepit poodle sitting in an equally ancient, decrepit, velvet armchair. The proprietor looked like a Mobster, complete with brown plastic rimmed eyeglasses with permanent tint. I ordered a coke, he brought me a can and a glass of ice and poured it at the table. He recommended the clam linguine, it was his mother’s favorite. I took him up on it and was not disappointed. He then tells me the story of how he dropped from being the 4th favorite restaurant to 9th. It was just one person being a jerk about some mussels and ended up getting their entire party of 12 to leave a one star rating. Anyway, if you’re ever on Vilano Beach, or within 20 miles of it, give ol’ dude a try. It’s worth it.
#53) Cincinnati, Ohio. I had returned from Savannah on Sunday. Wednesday, my best friend calls me. “Hey, you should go to Cincinnati with me & Chelsea this weekend.” Me, thinking about it for all of three seconds, “Ok.” And so on Friday after work, I drove to Cookeville and off we went. I could write an entire column as long as the rest of this about it, but suffice it to say we had a real good time. Our livers tell a different story, though. “Is that a henley???” “Did she have a good time? I don’t know, Aster.” “Got that Hudepohl??” And there he sat, my next ex-husband.
#54) Cookeville, Knoxville, Sweetwater. My bestie lives in Cookeville, so I’m out there semi-regularly. And I went to an exotic livestock sale there a few times. They sell giant tortoises, buffalo, monkeys, zebras and camels. No lions or tigers or bears, though, which was sorta disappointing. Knoxville is just down the road, but it is a destination for some unique dining and shopping experiences, so I’m sort of counting it. And Sweetwater is a neat place, home to the Lost Sea and Mayfield dairy. And the cheese farm. And my dear friend Jill!
I’m over 8,000 words but finished. I will add pictures as I get time. I still want to see Alaska. I’ve had two opportunities and passed on both for various reasons. I would like to visit Paris (with a translator, I hear they’re so rude), and take a gondola through the waterways of Venice. I absolutely NEED to get over to Ireland and Scotland and stay about a month. While I have next to no desire to see Hawaii, I would like to fly down to Galapagos and spend some time with those old, old tortoises. I’d want to stay in a hut on the water so I could watch the fishes glide by under my bed. That sounds like heaven to me. If somebody wanted to go ahead to Australia and clean out the snakes and enormous venomous spiders, I’d be down for that.
I realize that I could have simply listed these, but that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun to read. If you did read it, I hope you didn’t find it a waste of time. I hope you felt transported. It has certainly made me miss all my favorite places. I don’t get to visit Savannah or New Orleans nearly enough.
Survival is Insufficient.
Love from Appalachia (which will always be my Port of Call),
~Amy
I know I write about death a lot. It’s on my mind. I’m all the time having to go to the funeral home. And that’s fine. I love a lot of people. That’s what you do if you’re brought up right. You go see them one last time. Sean Dietrich writes about his dad who died when he was 14 almost every day. It’s tiresome, but it’s what he knows. And his heart is obviously bleeding out right there on the screen. You don’t have to read it.
I used to be terrified I would die at the happiest point of my life. Then I came to the realization that to do so would be the best way to go. I consistently wished on birthday candles and pennies in fountains that I would always be as happy as I was at that moment in time. That’s unrealistic. Of course we’re going to have highs and lows. I’ve had some doozies. But, as Shelby taught us in Steel Magnolias, “I’d rather have five minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special.” Yeah, I’ll buy some stock in that. You have to have darkness to appreciate the good times. We’re spoiled. We forget how good we’ve got it.
Anyway. What I’m here to tell you is that if I get eaten by a shark, it’s ok. I went out thrashing and bloody but that sure beats dying pinned in a car upside down because some doped-up addict ran me over and made me wreck my beautiful car. If I get shot by a crazed ex-lover or one of his flavors-of-the-month, I’m going to be mad as hell that I didn’t see them coming and take them out first. If I fall down my basement stairs and break a rib that punctures my lung, or break my femur and die that way, I’ll think what a stupid way to go. Cancer is common, and excruciating, and painful for everybody who loves you. To me, that would be worse than dying in a fire. It takes longer and you can’t stand anything while it’s killing you. If I die of a heart attack or a stroke before I’m 85, I’m probably angry about that, too, because how many people do you know that smoke a pack of cigarettes every day and stuff everything they can get into their mouth and park as close as they can get at the store and still live to a ripe old age? Life isn’t fair in many aspects. If I get carried off and brutalized by some stranger in a parking lot, know that I went out fighting and quite literally spitting mad. It makes me grit my teeth just thinking about it.
So trust me when I say that if I die in any vast body of water, that’s just fine with me. I went out happy, probably stuffed with oysters, and more than likely naked if I was in the Gulf. I wasn’t scared for long. Sharkbait! Woo-ha-ha!!
Like, restaurant? Or locale? Or city?
I don’t know, and it seems unfair to only list one, so I’ll do three.
Place to eat: Aubrey’s. Good food, drinks, and atmosphere. I always have a good time, no matter what time of day or who I’m with. I used to frequent the one off Papermill nearly every Tuesday afternoon, meeting a friend for $2 pints. Eventually, I transitioned to the one at Strawberry Plains due to traffic and I was kind of outgrowing the bar scene. Now I have one in my worktown! Lunch spot!! The food is excellent, with emphasis on local meats and produce. The ambiance is warm and it the restaurant is clean. The waiters are attentive and friendly, the TVs are always set on something of interest (as if I actually watch them), and the bartenders have never let me go dry. They will even mix you up something special if you don’t see anything to your fancy on the menu or you’re feeling adventurous.
Locale: I really like the Apple Barn. Especially now that they have a brewery. I always feel right at home. It’s so homey & cozy, and I’ve bought several decorative items in the barn. The best thing about the restaurant, besides the creaking, gleaming, burnished yellow pine floors, is the apple fritters. Gah. I can taste them now and my mouth is watering. There aren’t many places that can make a decent stack cake, but they sure can. I love all the little warrens in the stores and the rooms off rooms, it’s like being in someone’s home. Everything is decorated, mostly with apples, but it all has just this appealing quality that makes me want to stay forever, curled up in a rocking chair with a quilt over my legs. Or maybe in a hammock on the river in the summer. Anytime tourists ask me for a place that’s not to be missed, I will refer them to the Apple Barn without fail. It’s just an experience, with plenty of photo ops along the river or against the split rail fence lining parts of their orchards. I love it there. It would be one of the main things I would miss if I ever moved away.
City: Savannah. I would move there in a jiffy if I didn’t like my job so well. I’ve never had anything but wonderful experiences there. I love staying on the river and watching the cargo ships being smoothly pulled into their docks. No matter where you are, be it a rooftop bar or in the hotel lobby for breakfast, someone will simply say, “Boat” and everyone instinctively turns to watch progress. Savannah is slightly different than Charleston, which is a close runner up. I once heard that if Charleston & New Orleans had a baby, it would be Savannah. This is 100% accurate. It has the best of both cities: the historical significance and beautiful architecture, without the pretension or crime. You can get your drink to go, and everyone is accepted from cotillion debutantes to drag queens. There are ghosts and magic and music and voodoo and gorgeous fountains and fattening food all around. It’s one of those great places where pearls and blue jeans are worn on a Friday night to any bar on Congress Street where you’ll hear some folksy southern rock or moody jazz. No high heels, the streets are paved with old ballast stones and those 200 year old steps coming up from River Street are mighty tricky. The Spanish moss tickles your shoulders on Bull, and you would swear there was a shadow of a pirate right off your line of vision. People are all over, just enjoying being outside, lounging around in their dozens of squares, reading, writing, painting. All the arts! It’s so beautiful, and stirs up all sorts of emotions for me. And….the beach is only 30 minutes away! The locals are friendly, encouraging you to visit some lesser-known spots and sharing their hauntings. Everything is old, old, old, and you can just feel the history oozing and slinking around. And I’m totally ready to go back Right NOW.
#1) A song you like with a color in the title: Blue on Black Kenny Wayne Shepherd
#2) A song you like with a number in the title: 9 to 5, Dolly Parton (clackety clackety clack clack clack)
#3) A song that reminds you of summertime: Cruel Summer, Bananarama
#4) A song that reminds you of someone you would rather forget about: Cheatin’, Sara Evans 🙂
#5) A song that needs to be played LOUD: Kryptonite, Three Doors Down
#6) A song that makes you want to dance: Candyman, Christina Aquilera
#7) A song to drive to: Nightrain, GNR
#8) A song about drugs or alcohol (Aren’t they all?): Semi Charmed Life, Third Eye Blind…which I didn’t KNOW was a song about drugs until about ten years after the fact….so naive
#9) A song that makes you happy: My Church Maren Morris
#10) A song that makes you sad: I Can Still Make Cheyenne by George Strait
#11) A song that you never get tired of: Wagonwheel, Old Crow Medicine Show
#12) A song from your preteen years: Enter Sandman, Metallica
#13) One of your favorite 80’s songs: No question. Billie Jean, by the King of Pop, Michael Jackson
#14) A song that you would love played at your wedding: Long Legged Guitar Pickin’ Man….what? Did you expect something romantic? You know me but not at all
#15) A song that is a cover by another artist: I Love Rock ‘n Roll by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts
#16) One of your favorite classical songs: Flight of the Bumblebe by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov
#17) A song that you would sing a duet with on karaoke: Golden Ring
#18) A song from the year you were born: Tulsa Time Don Williams
#19) A song that makes you think about life: ….well, they all do but I really like The Firefly’s Song by Alan Jackson.
#20) A song that has many meanings to you: Somewhere With You, Kenny Chesney
#21) A favorite song with a person’s name in the title: Brandy, You’re a Fine Girl, by Looking Glass
#22) A song that moves you forward: Mama’s Broken Heart by Miranda Lambert. “Powder your nose, paint your toes line your lips and keep ’em closed Cross your legs, dot your I’s and never let ’em see you cry” In other words, fix your face and move on. This too shall pass. And the longer you wallow in it, the more people will talk. So look your best and do you’re cryin’ yesterday.
#23) A song that you think everybody should listen to: She Talks To Angels, the Black Crowes
#24) A song by a band you wish were still together: Eleanor Rigby by The Beatles
#25) A song by an artist no longer living: Zombie, the Cranberries. You’re welcome. I could have said Linger but it’s not as catchy.
#26) A song that makes you want to fall in love: Fishin’ In the Dark Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
#27) A song that breaks your heart: Ever since I was a wee tot, My Bonnie Lies Over The Ocean has made me cry alligator tears. I remember having it on a Mickey Mouse album. I still can’t stand it.
#28) A song by an artist with a voice you love: Life of Sin, Sturgill Simpson. He has that classic country voice and I wuv him.
#29) A song you remember from your childhood: I’m not proud of it, but Walk Like an Egyptian by The Bangles because it was the song for a baton routine
#30) A song that reminds you of yourself: Stripes, by Brandy Clark and Pageant Material by Kacey Musgraves
I'm sorry I was late
I was taking pictures of the sunrise
It wasn't that I meant to linger so long
But it was so beautiful
It kind of took my breath
And there was an incident
With coffee spilled
And it never fails
When I'm short on time
There's someone out for a Sunday drive
On a Tuesday morning
At 7:30
My apologies
For not paying attention
But I was watching the crows
And wondering what all the fuss was about
My mind constantly wanders
And I compose poetry
In my head
About beauty
And grace
But most of all strength
...and sometimes food
There's always love
I apologize for keeping you waiting
But I smudged my mascara
When I sneezed
And I want to appear perfect
Just every now and then
I wish I could
Make you understand
Why I want to drink you like water
And I just want you near all the time
But until you feel that way
You can never understand
I think this has gone on long enough
God pushes us together
Every time there's a break
And you've noticed it, too
You've driven me to distraction
At least a dozen times a day
I will you to keep me updated
On all the little
Tiny
Insignificant
(To you)
Things that make up your life
Not because I'm bored
But I miss having a person
To think about
And pray for their happiness
And I'm sorry I cry when I read this to you
But I can't help it
And there goes my mascara again
I start these blogs and I never really know where I’m going. Or I do know where I’m going, but not how I’m going to get there. Did you know that Gone With the Wind was written backwards? True story. Mrs. Mitchell knew how she wanted it to end, but not how she was going to develop the plot to that outcome. So, like Margaret Mitchell, I don’t know how long this blog is going to be. I expect it to be one of my rare short ones, but you never know.
As I type, I’m thinking about typing on the typewriter yesterday. I have to fill out 1099’s at my job. The government does not accept PDF fillable forms. I can mail this type to the producers, but I have to have one red copy to send to the IRS. And if I’m gonna do that, they’re attached to carbon copies, so why would I bother making separate ones on the computer? What I’m getting at is typing on a computer is far removed from the days of the typewriter. I will liken it to the days of film, versus the digital cameras we have today. You got one shot- don’t mess it up. You have to be perfect the first time, as soon as you mash the button. It’s permanent. You had to be sure. There was no cut & paste, no delete or backspace. I like the distinctive clatter but I despise the permanence. I’m no great typist, and I change my mind continually. Like right there. I had constantly, but decided continually was a less used, more fluid adjective. So I backed up and changed it. No problem. On a typewriter I would have had to started all over, or hopefully the corrective tape would work. You can’t wait till the end and polish and perfect. It has to be flawless as you go.
Anyway. On to what I wanted to say. I know that it’s hard to have friends. It’s difficult to be a good friend. They take time and effort. You sometimes have to dedicate moments out of your day to listening to their trials (that you can clearly see are as inconsequential as wet grass on your shoe), instead of running the vacuum or going for a jog (clearly I’m not using these as examples of what I’m putting on hold). What matters is that it’s important to them.
I’m a Gemini, which translates to flighty, self absorbed attention hog who can’t make up her mind and stays all atwitter. It is made worse by my only child status. I’m also a writer, which means I will forget your birthday (Facebook has changed my life in this aspect). I have to set a minimum of three reminders in my phone for appointments, and I usually have at least one post-it stuck on my monitor. I don’t remember to ask how your doctor’s appointment went, and houseplants wither under my care.
But I can describe your hair, your eyes, the inflection in your voice when you told me about swinging in the oak tree at your grandparents house in Florida. I know how you felt when the guy you’d been secretly eyeballing for two months finally asked you out. I remember what you were wearing the time you picked me up and took me to the symphony in Knoxville. I know the story of how you got the job you’re in now, and how you drink your coffee. I know which restaurant is your favorite, and what you’ll order to drink. I know what color you wear the most often but would never say is your “favorite” color. I know, as soon as I hear “hey” on the other end of the phone whether you’re crying, or just got through. I know you when you’re scared, and what hand gestures you’re using. For a select few of you, I even know your password or the security code to your home. I know what kind of bird you’d like to be.
I work with the most cautious, close-to-the-vest human I’ve ever come across. I have yet to hear her really laugh. She’ll snicker, but as far as throwing her head back cackling, with feeling from the gut, nope. She never loses her temper. She’ll become exasperated, when something truly goes against the fiber of her morals. She’ll talk slowly about something that bothers her, squinting and smiling like it’s no great trouble. I’ve never seen her moved to tears, even when her Grandmother passed, and she is devoid of emotion even when listening to her favorite music. She yawns when she feels awkward, or if I’m listening too intently. I’ve never heard her use the word love when describing her boyfriend of several years, and she isn’t one to gush about how great her food is. Don’t get me wrong, I like her just fine, we get along great as a team, and I trust her. I accept her that this is the way she is. This is all I will ever get, because that’s all she knows to be.
This probably sounds just fine to most of you. But I prefer to live more freely. Uninhibited, if you will. Otherwise, it seems like barely an existence. I need animation and passion. I want to THRIVE. I’m not bulldog gear, I’m wide open in four, pegging it. I’m not low-maintenance, I need attention and sparkles. I don’t want to giggle demurely behind my hanky, I want to spew coke out my nose and clutch my side. I don’t want to delicately sniffle when faced with an injustice, I want to narrow my eyes and cut bait. When I’m jilted, I will scream and collapse on the floor and howl. I don’t want to let go without an explanation in the event it can be fixed. I want to drive as fast as I can with my music blaring while I sing with abandon. I wish to savor my food and have conversations about things other than the weather and what’s going on at work. I need to hear about the things that make you feel, even if they’re not flattering. Let’s get down to it. I want to drink too much and cock my head and wonder if you mean it. I want to compliment people for everything, from their jewelry to their gardens to how their children behave. I want to say that you’re beautiful, but not mean because of the way you look. I want to laugh, I want to twirl and spin and I want to simply LIVE.
It’s funny who you stay friends with. Maybe friends is the wrong word. Maybe “stay in touch” is more appropriate. I met five people in college that I interact with to this day. We have each others’ phone numbers. We’ve been to many restaurants together and drank many, many, many beers. I know them now to varying degrees and our relationships have ebbed and flowed over the 22 years we’ve been acquainted. It’s hard to be everything all the time, so you just do what you can when you can. There’s another friend that’s popped in and out of my life sporadically for that long, too. You can’t help but feel a deeper connection to people you’ve known for time you count in decades. It’s almost as if you have your own language, because you have the same memories of the way things used to be, before they morphed into the way they are now. Case in point: Ogles Water Park. Natives immediately conjure a picture, they know, and no doubt share the same exact sunburn story no matter what year it took place. Locals, different from natives, don’t have that memory. It separates us.
But I’m here to tell you about friends. It’s hard for me to rank them, because I have “new” friends (ones I’ve known less than five years) but I see much more frequently than “old” friends. So who am I closer to? Hard to say. The number of memories are the same, and the newer friends are up-to-date on the nuances of my life, but I am still fundamentally the same person I was ten years ago. My old friends tell me so.
Here’s what makes a friend. It’s not who you see the most, or talk to the most, or are related to. It’s who is there for you when you need them. It’s people who won’t disappoint you or judge you. It’s people who see you going off a cliff but throw a lasso and dig in. Friends call you out on your bullshit and fight you or apologize when they’re out of line. Friends return calls and messages, even if it’s not immediate. Friends will bring you cookies or come sit with you when there’s nothing left or participate in your fantasies when you’re at your lowest. Friends let you share your worst, most bitter self, and sympathize, even if they can’t empathize, and look at you with understanding, loving eyes. They will squash you down in a chair and hand you a margarita or a glass of wine or a bottle of beer and build a fire and turn up the music. You can say what you want to and tear your mask off that you wear for everybody else because you don’t have to with them. You can tell them the barest, ugliest moments in the same breath you used to expound on the finest parts of your day. You can get tongue tied and laugh and pronounce words wrong or call someone by the wrong name or butcher the lyrics to a song. They’ll let you lash out and wait for you to wind down and they love you, warts and all. You don’t have to temper your emotions or guard your heart or measure your words for fear of accidentally offending them.
There are false eyelash friends, the ones who only see the person you show them, usually your most perfect, made up, part-time self. These are not friends you can call at two in the morning from the bar. It would never occur to you to call them, anyway. You often wonder why you call them friends at all. They’re a typewriter. You have to be perfect for them, they don’t want to see your flaws.
There are Lash Boost friends. These are friends you’ll have lunch with, and be there for the milestones: weddings, birthday parties, graduations, funerals. They’re real, and they can see you slipping, but you don’t want them to see you fall on your face and eat dirt. You’ll juggle what you have to in order to protect the worst. These are computers. They don’t mind the typo, they’ll help you fix it. Easy breezy. Moving on.
And then there are friends who’ve seen you first thing of the morning when you didn’t bother taking off your makeup from the night before. There’s nothing worse than smudged eyeliner. You can call them from the bar, but chances are they’re there with you. You’re IN their wedding, you’re helping them clean for a party and you’re bringing the cheese dip and balloons. These are the friends who’ll help you hide a body, or at least help you with your alibi. You don’t need a computer with them, they’re in the mix of it with you. They’re instant, direct messaging: Skype or Facetime. Maybe they’re not even that, maybe they’re a handwritten letter with coffee stains and three colors of ink because they have to lay their pen down to tend to some pressing matter and then they lose it. You don’t start over, you just plow right on, making do with the best you’ve got. The stationery probably doesn’t even match. And there are indecipherable scribbles and probably some lines marked through. These are the friends that will get down in the mire and wallow with you, watching mindless TV and binging on tater chips and chocolate.
You’re fortunate to have ONE of these. I won’t brag about how many I have. I also won’t say how many I’ve lost, because it hurts to think I loved them more than they loved me.
December is hard on everybody. You’re either super busy, or wondering why everybody seems to have plans but you. Either way, it’s stressful. Then comes January, and it’s depressing. Everything is drab and grey, the cheer has dwindled, and we’re just trying to make it through to warmer, sunnier days without catching the flu. There’s nothing really to look forward to. You just have to count your blessings where you can and not dwell on whatever is bringing you down. Last night was a such a night. I’d worked all day on those stupid tax forms (none a one without a mistake, by the way), then had a board meeting, and on top of that, worrying about Iran’s bombs and Australia’s fires. My clan has a loose tradition of going out for margaritas after board. I wasn’t gung-ho about spending another two hours in a bra that was making my life miserable. I wanted to go home and pet my dog and lounge on the couch under my alpaca blanket. But I had missed my friends. So off we went. And I’m so glad. We talked about it all, as we always do. It felt like I had been feeling off-kilter, unresolved, and just overall restless for some time. We talked about our victories and goals, the things that make us crazy, and the things that have hurt our hearts since our last gathering.
We ended on a high note: Go Vols! Go Titans! And good riddance to Brady & Saban.
This is why it is said “if money can fix all your problems, you don’t have problems”. Because, let me tell you, if you are sick, you want nothing but to get well. I’m talking Big Time sick. Cancer, diseases, what have you. Things that don’t really have a cure or a positive outlook. Please pray for my friend’s friend, Michelle. It is unlikely she will live to see her first grandbaby, due in May. From what I understand, this is her one dream. If you can’t pray for that, pray for our troops, defending our right to live here, free to drive a car and shoot a gun and worship where we want. Defending your right to live as a man OR a woman. Did you know, that in Islamic countries, many women raise their daughters as boys so that they have more freedoms? Freedoms being walking to the grocery store in broad daylight without a chaperone, freedom to WORK in a factory to make a pittance, freedom to speak a simple hello!! Read this book for an eye-opening experience: https://www.amazon.com/Underground-Girls-Kabul-Resistance-Afghanistan-ebook/dp/B00GEYL2SA/ref=sr_1_1?keywords=girls+of+kabul&qid=1578503822&sr=8-1 Pray for our leaders, that they make thoughtful decisions regarding the fate of our country, and indeed, the world. Thank you to those women who fought tooth and nail for our rights as women and paved the way for us today to have an opinion and equal vote. I fully exercise the right to vote, and honestly, you should be ashamed of yourself if you don’t. They worked too hard for this privilege for you to blow it off. Did you know it took a hundred years for them to obtain this license? Amd this year marks the centennial. https://www.history.com/topics/womens-history/the-fight-for-womens-suffrage
If you don’t have money, but you have friends, you will have a roof over your head and food in your belly. You will always have someone who cares if you live to see another day. You have love. And people who are without it, that’s all they want. It is more valuable than gold. Warts and all.
Love from Appalachia,
~Amy
Dear Santa,
I hope this letter finds you warm and well at the North Pole. I also would like to extend my condolences to Mrs. Claus, who is probably the most harried woman in the hemisphere right now. Although some of my mom friends are snorting with derision, no doubt. Hey, they brought it on themselves. Dern kids.
I was never taught to believe in you. I think I waited until third grade to ruin it for everybody else, though. Seemed like about time to be growing up and putting away the foolishness. But as I’ve grown older, I’ve found Santa in some. Really, it’s Jesus but some of these good people are self-proclaimed atheists, so let’s just agree to disagree, yes? In the spirit of Christmas and all. So what I’m writing to say, is what everyone writes to you about- my wishes. I’ve been good….but I’ve also been bad. To be honest, it’s probably an even split. I won’t even try to convince you, you see me when I’m sleeping, you know when I’m awake…but even you gotta admit, Santa, that I got pushed to the edge and when I’m cornered….well, it ain’t pretty. I normally wouldn’t write on behalf of anybody but there are people in my life that deserve a little extra sparkle for helping me out this year. I would say I’d take care of them, but where’s the magic in that? Also…..
And yes, I’m aware everybody else got their letters in the mail weeks ago. I believe in magic, okay???
First of all, I would like to ask for a vacation on behalf of my bestie and her husband. She’s got the weight of the world on her right now with her aging parents and the most ungrateful son that ever drew breath (you can bring him a truckload of coal–or maybe gravel to shovel) all living under one roof with their two other sons and four dogs. I cannot even imagine. If you could bring all the practical and levelheaded women in my life something functional that will last a long time. Something gloriously expensive that they would never splurge on themselves, like a KitchenAid mixer or a nice baking dish from Williams Sonoma. They’ve seen me at my best and worst the last eighteen months (my best is just me with a fully made-up face sucking down a margarita. My worst is…well, you know). Which brings me to someone I never thought I would have to be thankful for: the law offices of Andrew Farmer and most especially, his paralegal, Marie. Ol’ girl can certainly cut and slash with the best of ’em. She needs a trip to the spa, a day without a ringing phone and pinging emails. My good friend Lorie who helps find the perfect gift for what seems like every lady in the county, twice. Sunday school teachers, Kindergarten teachers, piano teachers. She has to help all us last minute Lucys pick out what we put off (or forgot) for our hairdresser, our co-worker, our pedicurist. She’s the queen diva, she knows what everybody wants. I want her heart healed from the loss of both her boxers that she lost this year. I think she has everything else 😉 Two more women who’ve definitely had their trials this year ..one needs discernment and to find out who she is (I know that’s a weird request of Santa, maybe bring her some Mac makeup, too) and the other lady needs some really good news and progress. I think she’d like a housekeeper for a year. I think sometimes we’re sent hardships to put priorities back in place and maybe to.find out who really is truly in your corner. There’s a few more special people, one who truly restored my faith in AMY. I doubt he even knows he helped. But thanks to him, I’m assured that I’m exactly as I always was, fun and feisty. This man should be gifted with all the beer he can ever hope to drink. I can’t think of anything else, and he probably can’t, either. My board, they put up with me and I put up with them! May their crops be plentiful and their cattle gain. May cattle bring good prices in the coming year and may we be blessed with enough rain. I want to ask for graciousness and goodness and plenty of heartwarming moments for librarians everywhere, may they always remember why they do what they do. May they be appreciated by all who meet them.
What do I want? Oh, just an intelligent, witty man with rugged good looks who has the sense to give me my space and who harbors a healthy appetite for my unhealthy cooking. It wouldn’t hurt for him to have basic electrical and plumbing skills; my house is old. He must have a good, steady job. I’ve been told it takes a lot to handle me, so I guess it goes without saying he needs to be a man with strong qualities and thick skin. I don’t want someone to take my breath away anymore…I want to be able to breathe deep and relax and know that everything is and will always be OKAY. The only time I want to be dizzy is because he’s got me laughing so hard I cannot stop. Send me one of those, Santa. I need to do some more traveling, too. I’m down for Ireland and Alaska anytime. I also wish that everybody can grant understanding, even if kindness cannot be extended. It’s 2020, after all. We should all be able to see clearly. And I hope that any little girl that’s wishing for a horse tonight gets one, even if it’s just in the form of a few riding lessons. Gotta start somewhere.
I guess that’s it, Santa. That’s enough. I’m lucky that I’ve pretty much got it all and I know it. Safe travels around the globe. Watch out for us armed citizens, we shoot first and ask questions later.
Love from Appalachia,
~Amy
Now, to y’all: Leave a carrot for Rudolph, and one for your wish horse. Hot chocolate for Santa and cookies, too. ‘Cause he don’t look like this:
I want each of you to know that I think of you often. Sometimes we think nobody cares because our phone doesn’t ring not one time all day, or we don’t get invited to dinner by our friends as often as we like. I’m reminded regularly that there are many people out there thinking and praying for me. As I am for you. Last year was my hard candy Christmas. This year it’s all visions of sugar plums dancing again.
Merry Christmas. May God bless us, every one.
From June 12th, 2019:
I haven’t written anything in awhile, I know. Slap me with your splintered ruler. (Any Alanis fans out there?) It feels like a waste when I don’t write, like I’m throwing away perfectly good food that I’ve allowed to rot simply because I forgot to eat it. Yes, that happens more often than I care to admit. But I sit and I try to think if I have anything worthy to share. And most times, I don’t. So I don’t write one day. And one day turns to two, and that stretches into a week, and before I know it, a month has gone by and I haven’t shared a word.
Because I don’t have anything much to say.
Oh, I’m doing stuff, and I do have topics I’d like to write about, but most people have an idea of me: that I’m fairly happy-go-lucky, apart from my occasional outburst on fast lane slow drivers and what have you.
The truth is, sometimes I feel like I have bees in my head searching for a place to build a hive. It’s a relentless buzzing as they dart here, there, and yon, smacking into the sides of my skull and flying into each other because their radar doesn’t work in such close quarters at warp speed. Occassionally it’s a lazy drone, but they’re still there.
You have it too?
Well, I’ll be.
It’s not like I have big worries. I have a temperate place to lay my head, wonderful friends, a job I adore, reliable transportation (and it’s gorgeous), and good health. I have family that loves me. I have true friends.
But I’m just aggravated. And for no good reason that I can discern. Oh, no doubt I could medicate my problems away, but that’s never appealed to me. I prefer to eat ice cream or buy a new dress. Something like that.
I would like to blame this feeling of restlessness and inadequacy on my virtual farm, because I barely crack a book anymore due to the fact I can’t concentrate long enough. I could blame the rain for my gray attitude. I could get lost down the rabbit hole of all the dazzling vacations and perfect homes I will never acquire. But I ask myself, “Do I have enough?” And I do. I ask myself, “Do I have love?” And I do. I ask myself, “Do I have my health?” And I do. So it may not be the house of my dreams with a pool and a housekeeper, but I have all I need. I may not have a perfect husband to grow old with, but I have love from a thousand other people. I may not have perfect vision or an enviable figure, but I am not sick. So I have this. And sometimes I have to say it out loud or write it down to remind myself. Because I’m of a generation who has it all. But we forget. I’m not fighting a war, or living in a country where I have to carry water from an alligator infested river two miles on my head in a basket I wove from weeds to my bamboo and mud hut that my husband built when we turned fourteen. I don’t have to worry about getting mugged at the grocery store or shot as I do my job. Well, I guess anything is possible, if not probable. I can vote, I can wear pants and a tank top, I can drive as far as I want….if not as fast as I want.
But I feel pouty sometimes. And for the stupidest reasons. If I could learn not to put my happiness in another soul besides myself and God, I know I wouldn’t be so irritated all the time. I would say I expect too much out of people, but what I really expect is the truth. And reciprocation. People will positively drain you, sucking the life right out of you. It’s nothing you can help with beyond prayer, and really none of your business, either. Or you provide them with something to make their life easier for one day in time and next thing you know, they’re taking it every day without even asking anymore. Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile. Or maybe you’re one of those people who truly enjoy giving, always sending cards or baking cakes or what have you and one day you sit back and realize not one person has sent YOU a card or baked YOU a cake or even called to check on you. I see this commonly in churches, especially. A group of ten will do the work for a congregation of 150. It’s disgraceful. You tithe, but do you give freely from your heart?
I ain’t got no business going there, so I’ll shut up right now.
I’m watching it rain. I like rain. It makes me feel like my responsibilities can wait another day. “Oh, my retirement rollover? It was raining that day and I just couldn’t get out….”
I have no shortage of excuses when it comes to things like money that’s tied up in paperwork. And cleaning my car. And grocery shopping. And evidently, blogging.
My life is different today than it was a year ago. Better? Probably, but I have a hard time seeing that sometimes. It’s hard to wrap your mind around a totally different outcome than what you were expecting. It’s hard not to get down and wallow and cry until you die.
Just keep typing.
Do I have your attention? Do you know this feeling precisely? Are you hoping I won’t stop so I can validate your feelings too? Yes, I know. I’m reading Facebook memories, and you know how I always go on about funerals I attend of those I love. I’ll have another one for you today. Maybe I should go ahead and say what I have to say.
I don’t know what happened. And if I did, I might not even tell it. It wouldn’t bring him back.
When we say we were friends before birth, it’s the truth. Our mothers were friends, we just lived across the hill from each other. The girl is my age, and she had two younger brothers. We constantly tried to evade them. We grew up, and once we graduated high school, we grew apart. We’ve kept in touch via Facebook all these years, but we don’t go to White Star for hoagies and eat them on my porch anymore. Her brothers quit chasing us with worms several years prior.
She lost her younger brother several years ago. I don’t think I went to the funeral. She lost her Mamaw a few years after that. I did attend that one. And Sunday night, she lost her other brother, the one closest in age to us. And my heart hurts. What would it be like to be the only remaining sibling at this age? You think your brothers will be there to play Uncle for your children forever. You think you’ll always have them around to discuss your mother and go down memory lane with every now and then. I don’t know what else you do with brothers, because I’ve never had one, but I imagine her world is really shadowed today. So my thoughts are with her, and I guess I’m marred down in all of it. More expectations unfulfilled, a life cut short for reasons we can’t explain.
I’m sleepy. But I’m always sleepy, except when I’m supposed to be asleep.
*****Picking this back up six months later
I feel melancholy even more so in winter. It’s easy to hermit up and evade responsibilities (looking at you, bank statements) and not do anything when it’s winter and gray and cold. Wouldn’t we all rather be eating cake by the ocean?
Hmm. Cake by the ocean. I’ve had it, have you? Cake tastes good anywhere, but especially when your toes are in the sand.
So what have I learned in 2019?
I’d like to share some real wisdom here, but I’ve known it all along: pray, eat what you want to, but drink plenty of water, buy whatever it is you keep thinking about, GO, say YES. And know that things will change. They may not get better for awhile, but they will at least change so you’ll have something new to think about. Wishes do come true, but so do nightmares. Just keep breathing. People tell you to take it one day at a time…I know to tell you to take it one breath at a time. I’ve lived through several nights one literal breath at a time. Look for beauty and blessings in everything, even hardships. It’s teaching us something, preparing us for the next step. You don’t have to explain yourself to a soul. The only one who deserves it already knows. Let go and let God. I still say eating tangerines and taking naps keeps you healthy and volunteering changes your heart.
For whatever reason, bits of prayers that are always recited are coming to me now– “With every head bowed and every eye closed~” “Would you come?” “Bless the farmers that grew it and the hands that prepared it~” and it’s consoling.
I hope you all~~ every single eye who reads this~~ have a very Merry Christmas. Here’s to clearer vision and discernment in 2020. May we all have a reason to believe.
Love from Appalachia,
~Amy
I’ve changed my mind. The gateway drug isn’t alcohol. How could I be so stupid? It is, of course, love.
Love will make you do some crazy shit. And once you lose it, you try to get it back. Enter alcohol.
But love is definitely our first drug. It produces feelings of euphoria. It makes us hallucinate- we see things through rose-colored glasses, do we not? Everything is touched with gold. Everything is surrounded by warmth and light and goodness. And we can’t get enough, we want more, more, more.
We burn with it. We spend money on it, trying to make sure the object of our affection sees how much we’ll sacrifice for it. We cut ties with people who don’t like our love interest. We stop seeing friends in order to see our “soul mate” more.
It’s not healthy. Nothing is in excess. But when you are enjoying riding the high, you don’t think about the repercussions. You don’t want to temper it.
We trade passionate love for other kinds of love when we can’t get the kind of love we want. We shower love on family, on friends, on pets, on making a home. Sometimes this is enough. And sometimes it’s not. And when it’s not, what then? Do you seclude yourself and play music? Furiously scribble some angst-y poetry? Maybe you turn to food and overindulge. Maybe your vice is alcohol. Perhaps something stronger. And here we are, now.
I say, the gateway drug is love.