I've been reading many self-help books recently, mostly about diet, exercise and how a person's body functions and reacts to everything just short of the direction in which you brush your hair. In addition to the books, I've found myself reading "fat girl" blogs. Stories about women who were once overweight but have found themselves and their place in society through a tremendous amount of weight loss. These women (and men have their place in this too) state that before the weight loss no one told them how "ugly" they were and no men ever paid them any attention, but now that the weight is off people can't wait to tell them how lovely they look and now guys are lining up for them. PAAAAA-LEEEEEEAAASSEEE! Maybe no one ever told you how ugly you were because you weren't and perhaps your lack of social interaction with men was due to your lack of self-confidence and pitiful display of tactfully interacting with people of the opposite sex.
Ok, so now that I got that off of my chest, I have to get to the real reason I chose to write about this tonight. Since November I have been diligent in watching what I eat and how much I exercise. Admittedly I am doing this for cosmetic reasons, but also for health reasons. When I began this journey I thought I would lose an enormous amount of weight and all my problems would disappear. I would feel great about myself, I would feel more successful and I could finally stop worrying about finding a man. El wrong-o! Turns out your fat cells don't hold the key to your future or your happiness. I wasn't hiding behind my 40 inch waist and 42 inch bust only to be unveiled 50 pounds later as a more confident version of that "really pretty big girl." What happened shocked me. I became obsessed about calories, pants sizes, portions, grocery bills, fiber intake, the amount of time spent exercising, calories burned, water drank, consecutive push-ups completed, shirt size, side profile in the mirror, losing calcium, losing my hair and eventually losing my mind. It had become all about me.
I gradually stopped calling friends and making plans because I couldn't "afford" the calories and instead all I wanted to do was crawl up into a little ball on my sofa and watch Comedy Central re-runs until it was time to workout. I stopped wearing my clothes proudly, speaking like a strong woman and seeking out my interests. I was letting numbers control my life - I never was good at math. Finally, I snapped out of it; for a little while at least. I realized that no matter how much weight a person loses, you're STILL you! I'm still that nerdy girl who breaks out into random dance moves in her apartment, waits until the last possible second to wash the dishes and will flirt with a boy, even when she has one, just because she can. Losing weight didn't make me more suitable for this world, the business world or any other world. It made me realize that people love me for that girl who dances like a geek and for the girl who always has time for her friends.
So if you're out there and you're losing weight for your health - I say good for you! Sure the world needs healthy people, but what the world really needs are people who have come alive.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
Darling Darlington
I remember coming into Maryland from Pennsylvania, but I can't tell you where the state line is or if I ever stopped believing that the landscape was one of God's most beautiful creations. To write about it right now is bringing tears to my eyes.
It was about 7 o'clock in the evening when Jay and I drove into Maryland. We had the windows down, the sun was setting and I just kept looking at him thinking, "I've got to be the luckiest girl in the world." We didn't say a thing to each other for at least 15 minutes. We didn't have to. We knew that we were right where we wanted to be. Travelling down the curvy roads and seeing the Mom and Pop stores along the street reminded me of my own childhood and driving down East Bend Rd to see my grandma and grandpa Collins. Each new hill was a new feeling of anticipation and excitement.
The sun continued to set as we arrived at Price Rd. After a quick turn to the right and up the first hill, I saw the place where so many memories had been made. And I knew right away it was going to be a very special memory for me too. The old farm house stood against the sunset, shaded by trees older than the town itself. For miles you couldn't hear a sound and for a moment the world was perfect. I remember taking in a deep breath, as if I was trying desperately to remember the sounds, the smells and the views for the rest of my life.
We were greeted by the oldest and arguably most energetic Archer boy of the house, Will. We sat for nearly an hour talking on the back porch enjoying the warm summer air. That night I went to bed so grateful for the few hours I had already spent in Darlington and met the night with eagerness for tomorrow's experiences. I remember looking out the window first thing in the morning almost in disbelief. Simply beautiful. I put my feet on the cold wooden floors, smelled the coffee and headed down to the kitchen. The house creeked and cracked. It was almost as if it were telling me stories about its past, welcoming me to sit down and stay a while.
That morning we went to see the Archer-Stump house, the old Mill and a few other priceless pieces of family history. I couldn't get over how much history was tied up into the family. And here I was to see every piece of it. That afternoon we had lunch with Gammy and Gumpy, or as I refer to them Mr. and Mrs. Archer - the grandparents. Their house sat just a few hundred yards away from the old farm house they once called home. We ate chicken salad sandwhiches, drank sweet tea and talked for a few hours. Later, Jay took me down to the old barns and the river. I never told him, but that experience made me so happy. He let me into his childhood and shared with me some of his favorite memories. Also what I never told him was that I hated him for making me walk through the thistle, the cow pasture and the weeds to get to the river. But once we were there, it was all worth it. You could hear the water gently passing over the rocks and the sun shining through the trees made the water look like a river of glitter.
My favorite part of the trip came that night when Jay's grandparent's took us to eat crabs at Price's Seafood in Havre de Grace. YOU HAVE NEVER HAD CRABS LIKE THIS!!! As we sat down at the table I noticed a plastic knife, a mallet and heavy duty brown paper as a table cloth. This place was a dive. With no napkin to set in my lap or wine list, I knew I was in for a treat! The crabs came out steaming by the dozen, covered in Old Bay seasoning (my favorite!) I watched as Jay and his grandparents took a crab from the tray, laid it on its back and went to work with their bare hands. I giggled thinking, "This has got to be a hidden camera show," but I was wrong. Grandma quickly set me straight telling me that I just had to jump in and not be afraid to get a little messy. We sat eating, laughing and getting our food all over us. Grandma had it on her glasses, grandpa had it in his lap, I had it all over my shirt and to no surprise, Jay managed to get most of it on his hands in his mouth. Funny how that works!
We were invited to stay for a few minutes at Grandma and Grandpa's after dinner. I was invited in to see the room of accomplishments. The walls were lined with Grandpa's hunting accomplishments, books that were centuries old and memory after memory of a life spent working hard - every single day.
The next morning we sat and had breakfast with Steve, Raine, Hannah and Graham. we had bacon, sausage, ham, eggs, and my new favorite dish "Fire in the Hole" or something like that. The minutes went by like seconds and before we knew it, it was time to begin our journey home. We hugged everyone good-bye and I hadn't felt that sad in a long time. I never wanted to leave this house. I had already made some of my favorite memories in less than two days and I was in disbelief that it was over. We packed the truck, waved good-bye and looked at each other thinking the same thing, "Let's just stay here forever."
The time we spent was short, but the memories will last forever.
It was about 7 o'clock in the evening when Jay and I drove into Maryland. We had the windows down, the sun was setting and I just kept looking at him thinking, "I've got to be the luckiest girl in the world." We didn't say a thing to each other for at least 15 minutes. We didn't have to. We knew that we were right where we wanted to be. Travelling down the curvy roads and seeing the Mom and Pop stores along the street reminded me of my own childhood and driving down East Bend Rd to see my grandma and grandpa Collins. Each new hill was a new feeling of anticipation and excitement.
The sun continued to set as we arrived at Price Rd. After a quick turn to the right and up the first hill, I saw the place where so many memories had been made. And I knew right away it was going to be a very special memory for me too. The old farm house stood against the sunset, shaded by trees older than the town itself. For miles you couldn't hear a sound and for a moment the world was perfect. I remember taking in a deep breath, as if I was trying desperately to remember the sounds, the smells and the views for the rest of my life.
We were greeted by the oldest and arguably most energetic Archer boy of the house, Will. We sat for nearly an hour talking on the back porch enjoying the warm summer air. That night I went to bed so grateful for the few hours I had already spent in Darlington and met the night with eagerness for tomorrow's experiences. I remember looking out the window first thing in the morning almost in disbelief. Simply beautiful. I put my feet on the cold wooden floors, smelled the coffee and headed down to the kitchen. The house creeked and cracked. It was almost as if it were telling me stories about its past, welcoming me to sit down and stay a while.
That morning we went to see the Archer-Stump house, the old Mill and a few other priceless pieces of family history. I couldn't get over how much history was tied up into the family. And here I was to see every piece of it. That afternoon we had lunch with Gammy and Gumpy, or as I refer to them Mr. and Mrs. Archer - the grandparents. Their house sat just a few hundred yards away from the old farm house they once called home. We ate chicken salad sandwhiches, drank sweet tea and talked for a few hours. Later, Jay took me down to the old barns and the river. I never told him, but that experience made me so happy. He let me into his childhood and shared with me some of his favorite memories. Also what I never told him was that I hated him for making me walk through the thistle, the cow pasture and the weeds to get to the river. But once we were there, it was all worth it. You could hear the water gently passing over the rocks and the sun shining through the trees made the water look like a river of glitter.
My favorite part of the trip came that night when Jay's grandparent's took us to eat crabs at Price's Seafood in Havre de Grace. YOU HAVE NEVER HAD CRABS LIKE THIS!!! As we sat down at the table I noticed a plastic knife, a mallet and heavy duty brown paper as a table cloth. This place was a dive. With no napkin to set in my lap or wine list, I knew I was in for a treat! The crabs came out steaming by the dozen, covered in Old Bay seasoning (my favorite!) I watched as Jay and his grandparents took a crab from the tray, laid it on its back and went to work with their bare hands. I giggled thinking, "This has got to be a hidden camera show," but I was wrong. Grandma quickly set me straight telling me that I just had to jump in and not be afraid to get a little messy. We sat eating, laughing and getting our food all over us. Grandma had it on her glasses, grandpa had it in his lap, I had it all over my shirt and to no surprise, Jay managed to get most of it on his hands in his mouth. Funny how that works!
We were invited to stay for a few minutes at Grandma and Grandpa's after dinner. I was invited in to see the room of accomplishments. The walls were lined with Grandpa's hunting accomplishments, books that were centuries old and memory after memory of a life spent working hard - every single day.
The next morning we sat and had breakfast with Steve, Raine, Hannah and Graham. we had bacon, sausage, ham, eggs, and my new favorite dish "Fire in the Hole" or something like that. The minutes went by like seconds and before we knew it, it was time to begin our journey home. We hugged everyone good-bye and I hadn't felt that sad in a long time. I never wanted to leave this house. I had already made some of my favorite memories in less than two days and I was in disbelief that it was over. We packed the truck, waved good-bye and looked at each other thinking the same thing, "Let's just stay here forever."
The time we spent was short, but the memories will last forever.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Four-Alarm A-Hole Phrase
So maybe you've heard of four-alarm fires? It's when the fire is so large that the alarm sounds in the nearest four firehouses. Occasionally, we're fortunate enough to experience our own personal four-alarm fire in an interpersonal sense. And that is what tonight's post is about. Enjoy.
I recently had the displeasure of meeting someone new thanks to the web-based cesspool of sex-crazed adolescents, married women and divorced men that is MySpace. I log into MySpace about once every 3 months mostly out of curiosity and sometimes because I've received an Email notification that "$$$YoungMuneyXXX$$$" or "<3<3<3 KayleeLuvsTyler <3<3<3 wants to be my friend. I'm sure ">youngmuney" thinks he can "holla" at me with his nifty use of dollar signs and subtle sexual gestures and that Kaylee just wants to bolster up her friends total.
About 3 weeks ago, I received a notification from a seemingly normal screen name attached to a socially constructed idea of a handsome man. Safe enough, right? So I befriend said young man and he starts chatting with me on MySpace. A caveat: I usually reserve my chatting for Facebook as I see it the only acceptable means of instantly communicating with someone. If you're still using AIM please seek immediate social media medical attention. So I begin talking with "Larry" and he of course immediately begins stroking my ego with phrases like "Hello cutie." And "Wow, you must have the most perfect smile." "I'm captivated by your stunning eyes," he goes on to say. And I stop. Surely, I have not found myself on the set of Eclipse: The Twilight Saga?!?!?! I mean come on, guys. Even though I'm happily taken by a wonderful man, I can't help but be a little curious as to what the kids are up to these days and modern courting behaviors.
"Larry" and I continue to chat and I find out he was a graduate of the same university as me. Relevant literature on relationship development would tell me that this is the first step in moving on to the next step: establishing common ground. This little escapade lasts into the next few days. Then, out of nowhere, I stopped hearing from "Larry." Not a huge disappointment I must say. So I let it marinate and surely enough a few days later he attempts to contact me once again. Only this time, I could sense a hint of immediacy in his conversational tone.
I asked "Larry" if I had done or said something to offend him to which he replied with what I will always remember has the Four-Alarm A-Hole Phrase, "Look you have a boyfriend and I'm really just trying to sleep with you and since that isn't going to happen then I don't really want to talk to you."
My mouth hung agape and my fingers failed to administer a witty blow to his ego. Instead, I stared at the screen for about 2 minutes reading and re-reading just to make sure I hadn't misread anything on the screen. Once I had determined that this was in fact a reality, I logged off of MySpace and cancelled my account.
You might read this and think to yourself that nothing good could possibly come out of such a disaster; however, you would be mistaken. It has led me to a very interesting line of research in interpersonal communication and computer-mediated communication. The veil of anonymity is more like an iron curtain. When a communicator knows he or she has nothing to lose, all is risked in conversation. A pitiful way to live life, but a most interesting narrative for a 20-something beginning blogger.
I recently had the displeasure of meeting someone new thanks to the web-based cesspool of sex-crazed adolescents, married women and divorced men that is MySpace. I log into MySpace about once every 3 months mostly out of curiosity and sometimes because I've received an Email notification that "$$$YoungMuneyXXX$$$" or "<3<3<3 KayleeLuvsTyler <3<3<3 wants to be my friend. I'm sure ">youngmuney" thinks he can "holla" at me with his nifty use of dollar signs and subtle sexual gestures and that Kaylee just wants to bolster up her friends total.
About 3 weeks ago, I received a notification from a seemingly normal screen name attached to a socially constructed idea of a handsome man. Safe enough, right? So I befriend said young man and he starts chatting with me on MySpace. A caveat: I usually reserve my chatting for Facebook as I see it the only acceptable means of instantly communicating with someone. If you're still using AIM please seek immediate social media medical attention. So I begin talking with "Larry" and he of course immediately begins stroking my ego with phrases like "Hello cutie." And "Wow, you must have the most perfect smile." "I'm captivated by your stunning eyes," he goes on to say. And I stop. Surely, I have not found myself on the set of Eclipse: The Twilight Saga?!?!?! I mean come on, guys. Even though I'm happily taken by a wonderful man, I can't help but be a little curious as to what the kids are up to these days and modern courting behaviors.
"Larry" and I continue to chat and I find out he was a graduate of the same university as me. Relevant literature on relationship development would tell me that this is the first step in moving on to the next step: establishing common ground. This little escapade lasts into the next few days. Then, out of nowhere, I stopped hearing from "Larry." Not a huge disappointment I must say. So I let it marinate and surely enough a few days later he attempts to contact me once again. Only this time, I could sense a hint of immediacy in his conversational tone.
I asked "Larry" if I had done or said something to offend him to which he replied with what I will always remember has the Four-Alarm A-Hole Phrase, "Look you have a boyfriend and I'm really just trying to sleep with you and since that isn't going to happen then I don't really want to talk to you."
My mouth hung agape and my fingers failed to administer a witty blow to his ego. Instead, I stared at the screen for about 2 minutes reading and re-reading just to make sure I hadn't misread anything on the screen. Once I had determined that this was in fact a reality, I logged off of MySpace and cancelled my account.
You might read this and think to yourself that nothing good could possibly come out of such a disaster; however, you would be mistaken. It has led me to a very interesting line of research in interpersonal communication and computer-mediated communication. The veil of anonymity is more like an iron curtain. When a communicator knows he or she has nothing to lose, all is risked in conversation. A pitiful way to live life, but a most interesting narrative for a 20-something beginning blogger.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Walls of My Heart
It's true. There are nights when I lay here and wonder if we're good enough for each other. Or whether I'm good enough for you. But that all changed when I decided to write about you on the walls inside my heart.
Imagine the bathroom at your favorite bar. Now picture all the quotations, poems and random one liners inscribed on the walls of those dirty bathroom doors. What we might not think about is the state of mind someone was in when writing those words. Perhaps a little heavy on the truth serum? Without truth serum, I wrote on the walls of my heart for you. The dirty walls of my heart that keep encrypted secrets and sentences that mean nothing to anyone but me. I tried to put you in a love song, a beautiful poem and even a diary. Oddly enough the only place that seemed to fit was on the walls of my heart.
Lifted, grateful girl
Lost in her own possessions
Provided little love
Gave too much of herself
Now protecting the broken pieces
With false accusations of security
Mama says everything will turn out fine
But fine was never good enough
Where's my pretty palace
With lace curtains that line the sun-drenched hall
Where's the unbreakable man standing tall
Little girl lost in this small world
Searching, climbing, spinning like a top
In her favorite flowered dress
All she ever wanted was that fairytale
But people don't lie in fairytales
People don't die in fairytales
And people always dance until dawn
A prince will not do
And neither will you
Little girl dancing her song
As you interpret the moves you don't even understand
To mean something you're not ready to know
Never leaving this fairytale behind
One day maybe you can write your own
Imagine the bathroom at your favorite bar. Now picture all the quotations, poems and random one liners inscribed on the walls of those dirty bathroom doors. What we might not think about is the state of mind someone was in when writing those words. Perhaps a little heavy on the truth serum? Without truth serum, I wrote on the walls of my heart for you. The dirty walls of my heart that keep encrypted secrets and sentences that mean nothing to anyone but me. I tried to put you in a love song, a beautiful poem and even a diary. Oddly enough the only place that seemed to fit was on the walls of my heart.
Lifted, grateful girl
Lost in her own possessions
Provided little love
Gave too much of herself
Now protecting the broken pieces
With false accusations of security
Mama says everything will turn out fine
But fine was never good enough
Where's my pretty palace
With lace curtains that line the sun-drenched hall
Where's the unbreakable man standing tall
Little girl lost in this small world
Searching, climbing, spinning like a top
In her favorite flowered dress
All she ever wanted was that fairytale
But people don't lie in fairytales
People don't die in fairytales
And people always dance until dawn
A prince will not do
And neither will you
Little girl dancing her song
As you interpret the moves you don't even understand
To mean something you're not ready to know
Never leaving this fairytale behind
One day maybe you can write your own
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
There are some nights I sit at home and do nothing. Absolutely nothing. Sure, I think about feeding my cat, vaccuuming the carpet, lighting some candels, and maybe washing a dish or two.
However, tonight I didn't think about any of that. I pulled my computer up into my lap and started going through old pictures with my hungry cat sitting right beside me. I came across a photo from a camping trip I took with some friends about a year ago and a picture with a good friend from college. I felt a rush of emotions ranging from gratefulness to sadness. Change in our lives is inevitable. Sometimes the change is good and sometimes it's the last thing we want.
Four people; numerous changes. Mary got married and is raising a beautiful little girl. She has a great career and makes time for her friends and family. Sometimes I wonder how she manages everything at the tender age of 25. Kinsey, my soon to be sister-in-law will be getting married to my brother in less than two weeks. It's almost impossible to imagine life without her in the family. Hard working and perhaps the most attentive, honest and genuine person you would ever hope to meet. Thank goodness she chose my brother. Sarah is doing her thing in graduate school at CMU. Having the pleasure of talking with her a few weeks ago, I noticed a more confident, stunning version of the Sarah I knew just a few years ago. Articulate and hilarious, this woman is going to impact the lives of everyone she meets. And then there is me. The japhie of the group. A year ago I was researching PhD programs instead of applying for jobs and at the time of this photo I found myself wondering if we brought enough food and beverage; not how I was going to manage to put up the tent. So that was last year. It was a good year. But circumstances do change and somewhere along the way things just fall into place.
And I guess that's why some nights I do nothing. The thought that change is inevitable is scary enough. Delaying the inevitable makes me feel rebellious, but mostly anxious. I sometimes wonder when my circumstances will change or even if I want them to change. For now I'm more than content with a hungry cat, a 36-inch television and a busy social calendar.
Monday, May 24, 2010
Capital Mistake Turns Profit
So now that I have a follower, not of my bloodline I might add, I feel compelled to write to an audience that has expectations. So T-Rock I thank you for this delightful little challenge.
Speaking of challenges... I've been challenging myself to get out of bed in the morning and do something with my life: run. Fresh out of bed at 8:30 this morning I took my happy arse to the arena on campus and had my way with LaFollete Field. Normally running requires a few simple things such as water, headphones, The Black Eyed Peas and a comfortable pair of shoes. Except this morning it required a little extra focus on my part.
Realizing 8 hours later that I had mistaken stubbornness for courage, I lay here regretful that I didn't at least look in his direction.
More than 6 years ago I met the first man that would break my heart. Sure I had experienced loss before, but most of those previous heartaches were only because I really really stupidly love drama. This guy was a little different. Unlike my previous suitors, he was Black. Tall, athletic, hilarious and by all means one of my best friends at college. Well one thing leads to another and two and a half years later I'm left staring, dumbfounded by the words appearing on my AIM message screen. "I don't want to be friends anymore." GULP! WTFrench Toast?!?! No reason. No apologies. All equaling no closure.
So for the past 3-4 years I've been wrestling with these unanswered questions! Why were we no longer friends? Why at that moment? Why me? These questions first were answered with candy bars, then alcohol, then something more constructive like writing and finally when I have found the answer (running) who do I run into?!?!?! Yeah you guessed it. And I wish I could lay here and say I was proud that I didn't even glance in his direction, but I'm not.
I wish I would have looked him straight in the eyes and without saying a single word, my eyes would have told this story, "Ok so for a little while you won, but not anymore. Because of you I questioned everything I am, everything I stood for and everything I was as a woman. Now, it's a whole new ball game. You see I am beautiful and I am tough. You never had the courage to treat me like the woman I was and always will be. Instead you used me. Just like you use everyone around you to get what you want. Well that might be working for you now but one day someone is going to tear you down and spit on you and make you feel like nothing. Make you feel like you never mattered and when that day comes..."
Well the truth is when that day comes I'll be cuddled up next to someone that had the courage to treat me like a woman.
Speaking of challenges... I've been challenging myself to get out of bed in the morning and do something with my life: run. Fresh out of bed at 8:30 this morning I took my happy arse to the arena on campus and had my way with LaFollete Field. Normally running requires a few simple things such as water, headphones, The Black Eyed Peas and a comfortable pair of shoes. Except this morning it required a little extra focus on my part.
Realizing 8 hours later that I had mistaken stubbornness for courage, I lay here regretful that I didn't at least look in his direction.
More than 6 years ago I met the first man that would break my heart. Sure I had experienced loss before, but most of those previous heartaches were only because I really really stupidly love drama. This guy was a little different. Unlike my previous suitors, he was Black. Tall, athletic, hilarious and by all means one of my best friends at college. Well one thing leads to another and two and a half years later I'm left staring, dumbfounded by the words appearing on my AIM message screen. "I don't want to be friends anymore." GULP! WTFrench Toast?!?! No reason. No apologies. All equaling no closure.
So for the past 3-4 years I've been wrestling with these unanswered questions! Why were we no longer friends? Why at that moment? Why me? These questions first were answered with candy bars, then alcohol, then something more constructive like writing and finally when I have found the answer (running) who do I run into?!?!?! Yeah you guessed it. And I wish I could lay here and say I was proud that I didn't even glance in his direction, but I'm not.
I wish I would have looked him straight in the eyes and without saying a single word, my eyes would have told this story, "Ok so for a little while you won, but not anymore. Because of you I questioned everything I am, everything I stood for and everything I was as a woman. Now, it's a whole new ball game. You see I am beautiful and I am tough. You never had the courage to treat me like the woman I was and always will be. Instead you used me. Just like you use everyone around you to get what you want. Well that might be working for you now but one day someone is going to tear you down and spit on you and make you feel like nothing. Make you feel like you never mattered and when that day comes..."
Well the truth is when that day comes I'll be cuddled up next to someone that had the courage to treat me like a woman.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Making Something Out of Nothing
A 12 hour car ride can be best compared to a painful visit to the dentist. You never hop out of the dentist's chair or the car and say, "Yes! That was an amazing experience!" Instead it's usually accompanied with moaning, groaning and a few choice words.
Leaving Virginia was sad to say the least. My best friend of 13 years (or more) is leaving for a 6 month deployment which means I have no one to call and share my most intimate thoughts and feelings with until November if I'm lucky. After visiting with her for only a few short days it was time to take the long drive back. The drive took me through the historic cities of Virgina, the twisting mountains of West Virginia, the most unkempt parts of Ohio and back into the sweet flat lands of Indiana. However, this time I decided that I wasn't going to be in a hurry and since I was going to be driving anyway why not make it memorable.
In an effort to get to bed before midnight, I will recap briefly.
Right outside the city my best friend calls home is the Naval Base in Norfolk. Crossing the bridge at 6AM and seeing the ships against the sunrise is the most intense feeling of freedom you could imagine. The ships stand stoic as the water races at their bases. And besides the aesthetically pleasing characteristics of the Naval uniform, it adds a certain savior faire to the whole scene.
I passed through Virginia seeing exits for cities I've only heard about because of 8th grade History class right into the mountains of West Virginia. The fog rolled across the interstate and down the sides of the mountains. If you looked on either side of the car, you would swear you were floating on a cloud. Eventually, I had to stop. I pulled my car into a rest stop and got out. Standing against the wooden fence and staring out into the beautiful creation gave me peace that God most certainly exists.
A few hours later I rolled into Ohio - a part of Ohio I had never seen. Trailers and mobile homes, junk-filled front lawns, run-down Mom and Pop stores and probably the saddest conditions children could ever live in plagued the small towns along my route. You say to yourself, "I wish there was something I could do to help." But who's to say these people aren't happy? At least that's how I choose to justify what I saw.
Finally Indiana. Home to great basketball and even greater tenderloin sandwhiches. I know I'm not the only person that takes a deep sigh of relief once I see that "Welcome to Indiana" sign. A 70 mph speed limit, Starbucks and Wal-Mart at every exit and absolutely no scenery whatsoever is what I call home.
And home is where I am tonight. Maybe just for now. Maybe for a few more years. But in my 25 years I have never put more thought into 600 miles than I did today.
Leaving Virginia was sad to say the least. My best friend of 13 years (or more) is leaving for a 6 month deployment which means I have no one to call and share my most intimate thoughts and feelings with until November if I'm lucky. After visiting with her for only a few short days it was time to take the long drive back. The drive took me through the historic cities of Virgina, the twisting mountains of West Virginia, the most unkempt parts of Ohio and back into the sweet flat lands of Indiana. However, this time I decided that I wasn't going to be in a hurry and since I was going to be driving anyway why not make it memorable.
In an effort to get to bed before midnight, I will recap briefly.
Right outside the city my best friend calls home is the Naval Base in Norfolk. Crossing the bridge at 6AM and seeing the ships against the sunrise is the most intense feeling of freedom you could imagine. The ships stand stoic as the water races at their bases. And besides the aesthetically pleasing characteristics of the Naval uniform, it adds a certain savior faire to the whole scene.
I passed through Virginia seeing exits for cities I've only heard about because of 8th grade History class right into the mountains of West Virginia. The fog rolled across the interstate and down the sides of the mountains. If you looked on either side of the car, you would swear you were floating on a cloud. Eventually, I had to stop. I pulled my car into a rest stop and got out. Standing against the wooden fence and staring out into the beautiful creation gave me peace that God most certainly exists.
A few hours later I rolled into Ohio - a part of Ohio I had never seen. Trailers and mobile homes, junk-filled front lawns, run-down Mom and Pop stores and probably the saddest conditions children could ever live in plagued the small towns along my route. You say to yourself, "I wish there was something I could do to help." But who's to say these people aren't happy? At least that's how I choose to justify what I saw.
Finally Indiana. Home to great basketball and even greater tenderloin sandwhiches. I know I'm not the only person that takes a deep sigh of relief once I see that "Welcome to Indiana" sign. A 70 mph speed limit, Starbucks and Wal-Mart at every exit and absolutely no scenery whatsoever is what I call home.
And home is where I am tonight. Maybe just for now. Maybe for a few more years. But in my 25 years I have never put more thought into 600 miles than I did today.
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