Notes from the Road

Thursday I dropped off the boxers at Petsmart and began my 1071 miles journey from Northern Virginia to Petit Jean State Park outside of Morrilton, AR. That's right, Arkansas. I started about two hours after I wanted to and began to stress out and berate myself for being always late. Then I realized my only commitment/responsibility was to be at the park by Friday late afternoon and to get there without killing myself or anyone else on the road. So I said,"Fuck it. No one is waiting on me," and headed out.

The drive was absolutely beautiful. The leaves have started changing and turning yellows, golds and reds and I climbed past the Smoky Mountains heading west. There is just something about starting a long road trip with a road atlas, cooler full of beverages (I prefer the non-adult kind) and a bag of pizzeria pretzel combos that just makes me excited about the journey ahead. Perhaps this stems from my senior year in high school's desire to wander around the country after graduation, working in little diners and restaurants and saving money before moving onto the next town, and seeing America. Instead, I joined the military a month after graduation and joined that rat race until now. I blame it all on reading The Dharma Bums senior year in lit class.

I tried to live out of my car and wander the US a few years back before I went to grad school, but since I was never selected for that program, that dream died on the vine. I did purchase a nice big vehicle to do that which came in handy moving to DC with the dogs and cats.

Anyway, I traveled through Northern Virginia, through Tennessee and into Arkansas. I stopped at a La Quinta Thursday night and checked in with about 20 golfers. I thought they were crazy since the weather had turned, and the nice 75 degrees temperature I enjoyed with my short sleeved T-shirt and flip flops leaving VA caused me to freeze my butt off in the ensuing 48 degree temperature. Every time I got our of the vehicle to gas up, people looked at me strangely in my flip flops. At least my toenails were painted a nice color. Tabitha Hughey (wife of a guy I worked with in Houma, LA) would be pleased I didn't look "white trash" (in her own words).

Just on a side note, La Quinta apparently means the following:

1. Free high speed internet
2. Pets stay for free
3. Complimentary continental breakfast

I don't remember a lot of high school Spanish, but La Quinta sure means a lot of things in English.

I had a great time seeing all my friends from New Orleans and Louisiana at ARKYPAA. Petit Jean State Park is just beautiful and the view overlooking the Arkansas River Valley is one I could look at forever. I headed out on Sunday at 1230 which was only two and a half hours after I started the process of saying goodbye. I always hated saying goodbye before because it felt like I would never see these people again and our relationship would never be the same again. I've realized that for every person who leaves, it means there is just another person I was meant to meet and share my life with. So as sad as I was leaving Arkansas and about 30 people I've seen on a regular basis for the past three years bidding for and hosting ICYPAA, I know I will see them again even though life has changed for all of us.

I know I have true friends and made lifelong relationships if I can see someone after a significant amount of time has passed since we have seen or spoken to each other, and it feels like no time has passed. We can pick up right where we have left off. I've got two friends from high school who are like that, and my sister. Being in the program has given me a lot more people like that in my life and I am grateful for the gifts of being their friends.

I'm in New Orleans right now. I think everyone down here would have kicked my butt if I traveled all the way to Arkansas and didn't come down and see them. But I have a week to wander around, take care of some work stuff, catch up on school work, and generally enjoy myself not being on a schedule or responsible to anyone. Freedom to be. Joy.