When friends found out I was coming to town, I was asked several times, “Need a ride?” The great thing about Seattle is that no, you don’t. There’s a light rail. The greater thing about Seattle is that my brother lives there, and he picked me up from the front door and delivered me back when it was time to leave, and I didn’t really feel super guilty because we’re family and that’s what you do. (but I did feel a little guilty…) He saved me a couple of bucks, and 37 minutes on the light rail. And let me feel that old-time feeling of excitement when someone is waiting for you at the airport. Remember that? Pre 9-11? When faces would be poking out from the crowd to try to find you as you come off the jet bridge. Now it’s very anticlimactic as you have to get off the jet bridge, exit security, go down a hall, and hope your person(s) is at the right place so you can embrace with that “I’ve missed you!” hug. And more often than not they’re not inside; these days they’re hanging out in the cell phone lot and you get curb side pick up. Thanks to my awesome brother I got one of those. Then I landed in Dallas. DFW is perhaps my favorite airport in the world, particularly terminal D. And what a great concept that it serves both cities. But that leads to the downfall of air travel in the Big D (the city, not the terminal). No one offers rides, because it’s too damn far. And after my jaunt in Seattle, I had to pay $59 in parking fees. And that was the far away lot. Where I had to wait for the shuttle, and there were no smiling faces or warm embraces. Handing my credit card to the parking agent, I yearned for a light rail, a friend to give me a ride, or that my flight had been canceled all together and I would have been able to spend another day in Seattle.
Home again, Home again, Jiggity Jig
It’s a major family-oriented holiday, which means I’m expected to go the hometown and be festive with my parents. None of my siblings or the grandkids were able to come in this year, but that’s ok. They all have their own families to celebrate the coming of Ol’ St Nick with. And by that I mean the Birth of Jesus Christ. So here I’ve been. As I come each year. And each year I vow that my stay will be shorter than the last. Which has been the case, such far. And this year, I have a flight to Seattle to look forward to more than usual. I can’t wait to go visit! But there are somethings that happen in Small Town East Texas that can’t possibly happen in Seattle. A list of such to follow.
Only in East Texas:
1. You can’t leave the grocery store without shaking hands with at least 7 people, getting 2 hugs, and wishing everyone a Merry Christmas, whether you know them or not.
2. Conversation at breakfast in town involves barrel racing, world championships, and never leaving Texas. Unless, of course, it’s to Vegas for world championship barrel racing.
3. I’m going to request that my mother be named patron saint of rude awakenings. She’s so excited that I’m home that she’ll blast the TV or the radio until I crawl out of bed to which she responds, “Oh, you’re up!”
4. The highlight of the day is rushing outside to tell the dogs to quit barking, or to separate them while feeding.
5. Ingredients for meals include marshmallows, venison, bisquick, and cream of _____.
6. Here, and only here, do I get to visit 5 tots and babies. All of whom belong to my best friends.
7. I’ve explained to my dad at least 4 times the difference between “online,” and “email,” and “messenger,” and “text.” And every time he responds, “Why don’t you just call them?!”
There are more. Feel free to make suggestions…..
The road goes on forever…
…and the party never ends.
So This weekend while driving a dear college friend around the city in search of the perfect Christmas presents, I hit a major milestone. 120,000 miles in my car. Whoa. And she still runs like perfect. Today I looked down, and I was at 120,200. Um, when did that happen?!! 200 miles in 3 days?!! Wide Open Spaces. So much for only driving to and from work. This is the metroplex. This is urban sprawl. This is going to be a hard life on the XT.
11 days till the Texas Seattleite returns to visit!
Bumper Anatomy
Yup, I’m home. Because I’m pretty sure that I’d never see this in Seattle:
Yes, it’s what you think it is. And no, it’s not appropriate. Don’t let the California plates here fool you. The driver is a Texan, guaranteed. I saw this tonight as we were out to dinner in my home town. One of those dinners that takes just as long to go around the restaurant and say hi to everyone as it does to eat the meal. One where someone comes to the table and dad says, “He’s eligible” after he takes his seat. One where you say hi to people you don’t even know because it’s the nice thing to do, and by golly they might know us. And in leaving that dinner, I see this. And a guy I knew from church climb out. And I shake my head in disgust, and look up and realize once again, I’m home.
No-jacket Novembers
It’s November 14. I just had dinner. Outside. Without a jacket on. AMAZING.
Today’s weather was awesome! Sunny skies, a slight overcast toward the afternoon, and WARM. I got to wear jeans, sandals, no jacket, no sweat, no chill bumps. I’m excited about this, all the while realizing how excited my Seattle friends are for the opening of the ski slopes. So, to all my powder-shredding friends, enjoy! But as for me, I’ll take the sunshine’s warm rays. Don’t mind if I do.
It’s football time at Gerald J. Ford Stadium!
I was invited to attend a football game on Saturday, and I’m so very excited! I’m a huge sports fan, which comes to no surprise to anyone that knows me well. And I’m a full believer in the sports fan first commandment: Thou shalt always wear thy team colors and logo to thine sporting event. In the past, had I suddenly been invited to cheer on a team that I had no team gear for, I would panic and hit the team store, the nearest Fred Meyer/WalMart, or the JC Penny lil boys section to find the said team apparel that fits my fashion taste and my sports fan rules. It’s critical. For the Mariners 2009 season alone I acquired at least 4 new apparel items, over 3 straight days of shopping. I spent amny hours finding the perfect Sounders shirt and scarf. My entire wardrobe consists of crimson and cream. And I don’t believe it just wearing cute-crimson to games. No. You wear the team logo. You be a real fan. I own TShirts to most of my friends colleges (outside of the Big XII, of course). Penn State, SMU, Florida, Gonzaga, Western Michigan, UW…
So I’m going to the SMU game on Saturday. Perfect, I have an SMU shirt from the 2000 game in Shreveport while my brother was in college. So I’m going to the game, and tail gating, and I’m very excited. And what’s the first thing I did? I went to Northpark mall to shop for something to wear. And what do you think I came away with? A royal blue top. To go with the candy apple red lace cami that I already have. And then I panicked. Because I didn’t have any heels to where that matched. It’s SMU football, in Highland Park Dallas, and I’m worried because I couldn’t find a sequins gown to wear, so now I won’t fit in.
Oh Dallas, at least you’ll be sunny in November.
Things I’ve learned this week.
1. It is necessary to wake up at 6:30 in order to be at the fair with a corn dog and beer by 9:45 for an 11:00 kickoff.
2. My apartment carpet is either super cheap, or has never been cleaned. My new vacuum was completely full after its first run.
3. Boots, belt Buckle, jersey, and gnome aren’t enough to bring home a W.
4. Never underestimate the power of paraffin and a great pedicure.
5. There’s a reason chicken thighs are cheaper than chicken breasts.
6. It is impossible for me to get any productive homework done in the comfort of my own home.
7. Watching Brothers and sisters makes me cry every week
8. I’m competitive, I’m an athlete, I believe in rivalries. But even I took a knee and got quiet as a cheerleader when a player got hurt. To hear UT fans cheer in glee for a good two minutes when Sam Bradford went down is absolutely disgusting.
9. Flights to Seattle for the holidays are cheaper than I thought. I think I’m going to book.
10. Folgers really isn’t as good. I officially have a coffee tongue, and I can tell the difference.
11. I think it would have been a lot cooler if the kid was actually in the balloon.
12. If you don’t buy the proper volt/watt lightbulb, it could explode as soon as you turn the switch on.
13. Michael Irving can’t dance quite as well as Emmit Smith.
14. It’s snowing in Boston.
15. The earlier you get to work, the earlier you get to leave.
It’s the music of my life.
Tonight I was listening to 99.5 The Wolf front porch show. It’s probably been my favorite radio program for years, and I’m glad to be back in the listening area, with or without an antenna on the XT. I realize that the music that comes on strikes emotion within me more than I care to admit. Sometimes within 3 chords, my heart sinks, my eyes swell, or my smile broadens. The familiarity of a song that I know so well can make me stop conversation, make my hands sweat, or take me back suddenly to another place and time. Texas country does that for me, because it feels like the songs are about me. They’re about my Small town, USA. They’re about my roaming, wandering ways. They’re about my truck, my hunt, my fried chicken, and my romances. They’re about my boots, and my two step, and my wide open sky. They’re about my beer, my team, and my life. They’re about me.
I’m not a musical person. I can’t play an instrument, and I can’t read music (aside from a mean rendition of Boomer Sooner on the recorder). I can’t sing and I can’t keep a tune. But I’m an appreciater. I love dancing along to live music. I love singing along so loudly that I’m hoarse, but the speakers thankfully drown me out. I’m not talented, but I have the love for it. And the emotions that the music brings about in me can often seem so much stronger than any other emotion I’ve ever felt.
I think I’ll start a new life.
So Mom and I are going to Boston soon, in our tradition of “Mom’s Day Weekend.” Since I graduated, our Mom’s Day weekends consist of me, her, and a US city that I have never explored. Since she’s explored them all, she gets to be tour guide. Last year was San Francisco. This year is Boston.
I can’t help it, but the song “Boston” has been in my head all week. It’s a song that off and on through the last few years has hit me for various reasons. Was on a someone’s MySpace page that I used to check in on. Was with me during my Seattle dark times when I wanted to move on. Was on repeat when I met that someone from Boston that I just wanted to be reminded of. And it’s on now, as my pre-game to Mom’s day weekend. It won’t embed, but watch/listen by clicking on youtube link below.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FE0BSJ8h6vc
The basis of the song to me, is much like Chariots of Fire. Just run.
If things aren’t what you want, or if you think you want more somewhere else, just run away. Run to where things are better, run to where things are different, run to where no one knows you. Run so you can leave your fears behind. Run. Run away. Because no one understands. They know my name, but they don’t know me. So I’ll run to where no one knows either. And I can start over.
The sad thing is, if you keep running, you’ll never know what it’s like to share understanding with someone. You’ll never know what it’s like to have someone call you by name, look you in the eye, and know you better than you know yourself. You’ll never know what it’s like to start a new life. You can’t outrun it forever. Because even if your legs are moving and your boxes are moving and your life is moving, your heart manages to be where it belongs.
In the light of the sun, is there anyone? Oh it has begun…
Oh dear you look so lost, eyes are red and tears are shed,
This world you must’ve crossed… you said…
You don’t know me, you don’t even care, oh yeah,
She said
You don’t know me, and you don’t wear my chains… oh yeah,
Essential yet appealed, carry all your thoughts across
An open field,
When flowers gaze at you… they’re not the only ones who cry
When they see you
You said…
You don’t know me, you don’t even care, oh yeah,
She said
You don’t know me, and you don’t wear my chains… oh yeah,
She said I think I’ll go to Boston…
I think I’ll start a new life,
I think I’ll start it over, where no one knows my name,
I’ll get out of California, I’m tired of the weather,
I think I’ll get a lover and fly em out to Spain…
I think I’ll go to Boston,
I think that I’m just tired
I think I need a new town, to leave this all behind…
I think I need a sunrise, I’m tired of the sunset,
I hear it’s nice in the Summer, some snow would be nice… oh yeah,
Boston… where no one knows my name… yeah
Where no one knows my name…
Where no one knows my name…
Yeah Boston…
Where no one knows my name.
Deuce
As in, tie.
Point Dallas: I got to see my cousin for dinner on Friday night. It was so great to spend time with him and catch up. He just happened to be coming through for the Arkansas v A&M game (WOO PIG SOOIE!). Convenient reunion time. So glad to live here! Point Dallas.
Point Seattle: The preacher on Sunday talked about the children in the kingdom of God and how important their place in the church is. I couldn’t help but think of 5 precious little faces that I love and adore, and left behind. Point Seattle.
Point Dallas: This weekend my 2 best friends from high school are coming to stay! They can’t stay long, only one night, but I can’t remember the last time we had an overnight girl fest. It means so much to me that they are taking the time to come visit. I’m so excited! I can’t wait!! Point Dallas.
Point Seattle: Tonight, I turned on the garbage disposal. There was a spoon in there. Not quite a fork, but I totally missed my roommates. Point Seattle.
Point Dallas: Live country music. It’s very exciting, and it’s here. Kevin Fowler was a great kickoff. Point Dallas.
Point Seattle: Yesterday was the last Mariners game of the season. I felt like I was saying goodbye to SafeCo all over again. My eyes swelled, I wore my M’s jacket, and I bobbled my head in honor of Griffey. Point Seattle.
