18 posts tagged “travel”

alright, so let us begin by saying that as with all things so far this night is beginning perfectly. 88.7 is playing an endless mix of lovely groovin guitar jazz and i'm swinging my hips like a girl in love and home alone with no one to judge or ogle. tomorrow is a day of days. i love crossing big to-do items off the list and this is definitely one of them, and on its way to being a hundred of them. so many firsts. i love having a ready answer to the all important question 'when was the last time you did something for the first time?'

there is packing and planning and a not undaunting list of final things to accomplish before i leave the house tomorrow. unlike other trips though, punctuated by madcap dashing around the house, this is more like the soundtrack that fate and the radio gods have provided me. strangely sweet...soft and silky and sultry...filled with unnamed dreams and promises of naughty and nice colored by the beauty of sunsets i've never seen before.

and now the lilting song of an alto sax sends me off to the tasks at hand. i tell you...i wouldn't be anyone else but me tonight. i wouldn't trade this moment nor the next several days for all the riches, health, beauty or even cleverness in the world.

Tired tonight. Perhaps the sleepless nights are finally catching up with me. Yes, still sleepless, though I more than suspect they're no longer due to insomnia. It's rather my choice to stay up till all hours, filling my time with better things than dreams.

Writing is a high volume activity lately, pleasantly, wonderfully so. And I need to write two very specific sequences that are in my head and memory, but somehow I'm not sure I'll be able to tonight. Maybe just the usual bloggy ramble will help to clear my head for beginning in earnest tomorrow.

So, happenings and goings on in my world in the near future are as follows:

Two of my best girlfriends/comadres are coming to town this weekend. It should be a fairly low key couple of days, as we're not much for phone calls and we have lots to catch up on...although, I think there's a good deal I may keep to myself. Some of you IRL readers may already know my newest secrets, but I think maybe this weekend should be a time for me to listen. Regardless, we'll be doing some fairly girly things--pedicures, winery dinner, shopping--that will allow for plently of chat. Oh, and I'm so psyched that one of them is all health-nutty now. She actually asked if we could plan some time to work out and is even wanting to come to yoga with me on Friday, so I won't have to miss!

[Sigh. Yoga. I think maybe that's why my brain is at a lull right now. I had a frustrating class tonight I'm afraid. Not terribly difficult in any way, but a challenge nonetheless. I worked legs yesterday, and a little the day before too, and I was more sore than I realized...which translated to poses that felt great and were much needed, but difficult to maintain. I left class rather creakily and would even say I was kind of down. So I threw my mat in the car and went back inside to do some cardio and listen to the little bro's music on my headphones. (Sidenote to this sidenote: I REALLY hope he'll start to write and play again someday. Every day he's not a star, the world is missing out.)]

Travel time is coming up too. I'm trying to arrange a whirlwind trip to St. Louis to finally see my best girl, her hubby, and their new baby. 'New' means almost 6 months old and I'm a royal schumck for not getting out to see her sooner. Especially as I already have 2 other trips planned out and booked for the next couple of months. Hopefully Labor Day weekend or the weekend after that will work.

Anyhow, as for those other trips, I am thrilled to no end to be heading out to Michigan in mid-September. Why you ask? Well...for lots of reasons, some of which are under NDA, but the impetus for this trip was that (a) I've never seen that part of the country and (b) I love the movie Somewhere in Time and I've always wanted to see the Grand Hotel on Mackinac Island. The super aunt told me earlier this summer that she would send me off wherever a Southwest voucher would take me and handle hotel too. So I'll land in Detroit, then roadtrip with a friend to Mackinaw City and then, if I get my planning together, a night or two actually on the island.

And then I finally have a trip home to the EP planned, only it's better than a regular trip home because I get to be the guide for an El Paso virgin! Yes, one who has never seen the glory and insanity of a modern border town is coming down with me. I'm so excited, and I hope I can do my hometown justice in just a few short days. Worst case scenario, though, I'll keep him sated with non-stop fabulous Mexican food and he'll think it's the greatest damn town he's ever seen.

[Feeling better already. Maybe I will get to writing tonight after all. We'll see.]

Also, tada, Just prior to the EP trip is the Austin City Limits music festival and...thrill of thrills...the little sister, the little brother, and his girlfriend are coming to town for it. This will be the first major event I'll have media credentials for too, so I'm looking forward to it from a professional standpoint as well.

And after that of course it's straight into the holidays! Yay for costumes and turkey and Christmas carols 24/7. Oh, by the way, I am swearing right now that I'm going to see some snow this Christmas so help me.

Of course, I've left out all the work insanity that will happen between now and then, partly because I'm 'not supposed to talk about it' and partly because, meh, it's work. It'll be a bit stressful, but it'll get done and that's that.

Hmm. I feel much better. I suppose I just needed to organize my life for a bit. That and an all important phone call have put me in a grand mood.

And I'm ready to sign off for the night.

My first summer road trip is officially over. I know. I got it in just under the wire. Shreveport was beautiful in its way, as most American cities are these days, with people and places of various generations butting up against each other. New development out of place with ivy covered railroad trestles and the boarded up windows of all but one house on a block.

It rained all Saturday, which brought a few--just a few--moments of cooling breezes. I had excellent Greek food. I won $50 off a single, 50 cent slot machine bet. I discovered there are still Cypress trees in east Texas and saw my first southern sunset over the Red River, and yes it was different than all the others.

I had a wonderful time. I thrilled to so many little things. I love taking off by myself like that. I love that I can steal an hour of life doing nothing but watching the light change in a new city and letting my mind wander. A weekend like this reaffirms how much better it is to be here and now than there and before.

And yet...

Well, we all know what the 'yet' is...there are friends, there are ex-husbands and ex-boyfriends and ex-lovers, and then there is that one out on the horizon. The great love. The one that makes sense without having to make sense. The one we're not supposed to believe in...not supposed to look for...not supposed to miss though we've never known other than missing them.

As much as I loved my trip, I've never quite been able to tame my imagination...to keep it from running away and ahead of me, painting the picture of what my sunset would look like with someone else in the frame.

Now, now, it's not all bittersweet fodder for my writing heart. I truly enjoyed the actual road part of my road trip too, mostly due to the unexpected soundtrack. I didn't have time to plan out my music, so I grabbed randomly from a stack of miscellaneous CDs that haven't seen the light of day in ages. I didn't actually know what I'd tossed in the car until I stopped being able to grab a clear NPR signal, about an hour east of Dallas. Among others there was my original George Michael Listen Without Prejudice (8th grade), my Led Zeppelin BBC recordings (college, L.A. years), 3 volumes of Disney songs (kinda coma inducing for a drive, but nice to have found), and this great CD that my little sister burned for me years ago, that my brother had originally given to her, of John Mayer pre-record contract when he was building a following on the college circuit. Live versions of Kool and the Gang's 'Celebration', Toad the Wet Sprocket's 'Walk on the Ocean', 'Message in a Bottle' from The Police, and a bunch of his other tunes done in what sounds like fairly small shows. John made a good companion for my head and heart these last two days, which is why he received top billing via today's post title. I rather liked everything I heard today, but this live recording stood out to me because it sounds much better than the album release that I was vaguely familar with. Almost-too-perfect-that-they're-cheesy lyrics below.

staying home alone on a Friday
flat on the floor looking back
on old love
or lack thereof

after all the crushes have faded
and all my wishful thinking was wrong
I'm jaded
I hate it

I'm tired of being alone
so hurry up and get here
so tired of being alone
so hurry up and get here

searching all my days to find you
not sure what I'm looking for
I'll know where
when I see you

until then I'll hide in my bedroom
just staying up all night just to write
a love song
for no one

I'm tired of being alone
so hurry up and get here
so tired of being alone
so hurry up and get here

I could have met you in a sandbox
I could have passed you on the sidewalk
could I have missed my chance and watched you walk away

I could have met you in a sandbox
I could have passed you on the sidewalk
could I have missed my chance and watched you walk away

I'm tired of being alone
so hurry up and get here
so tired of being alone
so hurry up and get here

you'll be so good
you'll be so good for me
I know you'll be so good
for me
for me

The last six months have been crazy. I'm long overdue for a roadtrip.

As luck would have it, a couple of opportunities have come together and the next two weekends are finally taking me away from home. First up is Shreveport, Louisiana for an actual roadtrip. I've never been and there though I'm heading going for a work meeting, I should have plenty of downtime to wander around in the unbearable heat with my camera. Still looking into where to go/what to do - so any suggestions are welcome.

The following weekend brings a trip to New York, the city, with my parents and sister, and to visit two very good friends living there. (And anyone else who may pop up between now and then.) We have loose plans to do a lot of things, and hard plans to go to a Yankees game and a Broadway show (courtesy the parental sponsorship fund), but I'm most looking forward to wandering around with my camera and notebook as always.

I need a break from myself here at home--from this routine. I want to sink back into myself in some unknown spot and just let whatever is waiting there for me have its way. Let the dam break and the walls come tumbling down. I think if neither Louisiana nor New York can accomplish that, then I'll take one more weekend and head into the hill country on my own. Maybe, maybe not. The plan at that point will be simply not to have one.

(Edited just for clean-up and quality on 7/29)

The mood is grumpy. I spent a lot of time and money over the last two days--since my parents absolutely finalized their intent to visit this weekend--in prepping the house (laundry, lawn service, exterminator, cleaning, grocery shopping for stuff they eat and I do not) and was even up till 2:30 last night putting away piles of laundry and getting the guest room ready, only to receive a text from my dad at 7:30 this a.m. that said, "Winds gusting up to 50 mph. Mom doesn't want to fly. We're not coming this weekend. Call us when you wake up." Shit. Well, it snapped me right out of my morning fog and, as you can see, I'm still awake.

It's too late for me to drive to DFW (which is what I would have done if they'd even told me just last night that they weren't coming) and I'm beyond going back to sleep now.

I think I'll unplug today--phone, web, etc.--and do stuff no one else ever wants to do (like the Blanton Museum and the Wildflower Center). Part of me just wants to sink into the grumbly funk I'm wading in right now, but it's going to be 86 and sunny, a lovely day by all accounts, and really, why waste it just to show the universe how disappointed I am that mom can't suck it up to fly (I mean, the flight isn't even delayed!)--not that I want to be the one to guilt her into coming and then, BAM, plane crashes and I carry the guilt of that all my life. (See, gotta' consider all the angles.)

Still. Kind of a bummer.

Update: I just realized my posts are timestamped with California (PST) time--7:01 a.m. Hmmm. Wonder if that's a setting or just the standard because sixapart is in SF.

UPDATE 2: Mom called a while ago to say she and dad changed their mind again (jeezus christ, and you wonder where I get it from?) and were racing to the airport, but might not make the flight.

UPDATE 3: Mom just texted the following, "We are on the plane. If it crashes, it was meant to be. Wills are on the desk. Just kidding - I hope." Seriously, I'd laugh my ass of if that wasn't a teeny tiny slim possibility.

Resting tonight. I've been fighting what even the doc at the walk-in clinic thought was the flu, but seems it's just a cold or some other viral infection after all. I'm likely not contagious anymore. I might head back to work tomorrow.

So tonight I'm nibbling my nails and watching Australia, a quirky western meets wartime romance really, but what else would you expect from the excellent Baz? And something about Kidman that's always caught me...a look in her eyes...pain maybe, loss and a strange gratitude that radiates from her in quiet moments, makes her very watchable. Plus, you have to love a love story with lovely-to-look-at people, no? (And Hugh is lovely.) Though I gather some foreshadowing that this will not be the happily ever after I still always crave. The tensions builds, crests, etc. and so my nails suffer.

I had quite a time this last weekend. Lots of music, food, too much to drink more than once, a few tears, a little worry, a lot of fun.

And some love, too. I generally speak only of love, at least my love, elsewhere and behind closed doors...sure, some Valentine's recounting is one thing, but secrets of the heart talked, not whispered, into your ear--even if they are a little alchohol induced--well, those are different. And they can be...startling and warming, and certainly worth airing to the winds a bit, hinting to spring breezes and such. The details aren't important, but it's a strange pleasure to look back on even an argument with a wistful smile, to experience a whole body relief at being forgiven for little things, and to dare a few moments daydreaming about looking back on this time from years and years beyond the day.

Strange, I'm only just now vaguely aware of the significance of this time, of the tradition of renewal that spring has taken on for me. Anniversaries of sorts are upcoming. This time two years ago I believe I was in Venice, maybe Florence at this point, during my first and only time abroad. It was amazing and life shaping--I had to suck up a lot of fears to make it happen--and when I came home I used every lesson and then some to make it through what lay ahead.

In the weeks and months after returning home I walked a lot, ran too, wrote of course, cried buckets and sang...well, I sang to myself like nobody's business. In the car, the shower, around the house, to the dogs and cats who danced and mewed back at me. I sang anything I could remember or learn anew too--Christmas carols, nursery rhymes, church songs, pop tunes, and a handful of love songs I would sing over and over. Sometimes I think it just filled the silence, but it was also a way of self-soothing like drinking my lavendar tea or sleeping with my very old, thin baby blanket at night. I would even hum-sing myself to sleep.

There is a string in Australia, part of the infusion of a magical element into the film, that uses song to both call and calm the characters. The little boy, Nullah, who is a 'magic man' in the making tells the Lady Ashley repeatedly 'I sing you to me'...sometimes meaning 'I will' and sometimes meaning 'I did'. If you believe in magic and make-believe, then maybe you can believe that, in a way, we're always singing to eachother and to ourselves, calling out and calling forth what, and who, we need in life. Lovely thought, no?

(I fell asleep last night before posting this and just cleaned it up a little bit...late night typos and such...but it's mostly as it was written in my mildly feverish and cough-syrup induced state. I feel a little better this morning. It's cool out and rain is coming to wash the world clean. This post, btw, was for dearbarbz who reminded me there is more to this blog of mine than tweets and cameraphone pics. Cheers and a good day to all of you.

Also, the song below was the piece, other than Somewhere Over the Rainbow, that was played on the harmonica and sung/whistled around the campfire in the film. You'd never know it would you? Because you know it so well from The Postal Service and, also, it was on the Garden State soundtrack as covered by Iron and Wine. I couldn't find the version from Australia...seems they didn't release a soundtrack.

Tonight's trip began with what turned into a mad dash to the airport because I-35 was completely closed down at one point between me and the airport. Not for an accident, but for planned construction and this was before the 8 o'clock hour. First off, I consider that bullshit, but nothing to be done about it now.

I bolted down pitch dark back roads and finally made it to the airport at 8:34. My flight was at 8:45. But wait, there's more. Having already spoken to Southwest Airlines, I knew that the plane for my flight had been in Austin since 8:05 which meant that it would have been completely boarded and if I wasn't in the boarding area at ten till take-off, they could close the doors as early as 8:42 pm. So I decided to throw some money at the problem and valet my car. It would only be 2 days anyway. Totally worth it, right?

Only the valet parking drop-off is no longer on the 3rd floor rental care level of the close-in parking structure--but of course I didn't realize that until I was already up on that 3rd floor. My only options were to circle back around the airport--at least a 3 minute trip--hope to find the valet drop or just park my car, but most likely miss my flight. OR I could just leave my car in an empty space clearly marked "Unauthorized Vehicles will be Towed" and go.

So I went.

I parked the car, popped the trunk, pulled all my liquids out of the carry-on that I'd originally planned to check, and then ran like a mad woman (marathon training noticeably helpful, by the way) to the terminal. Once inside, and still needing to print my damn boarding pass because the printer at home was out of ink, I hit stage 1 of possible freak out because all of the kiosks were closed. Luckily there was one lone SW rep down at the end who must have felt my panic and rushed over to help me. She printed my pass, told me the gate and said she'd call ahead to let them know I was coming. Stage 1 of possible freak out averted. All I had to do was get through security.

That's when I forgot to take off my shoes. I tossed my stuff on the belt, barely remembering to put my laptop in a crate, and launched right through the metal detector. The TSA gal didn't even notice my shoes until she was about to take my ID. That's when she made me go back, take off my shoes, my scarf, my sweater and toss them, along with my phone that I'd forgotten was in my back pocket but that had not, curiously, set off the detector, onto the belt for screening. Then, in an airport that more closely resembled a ghost town than an international terminal and with not a single other body in line, they ran a special check on my laptop and phone. So I skipped Stage 1 freakout and went straight to silent panic mode Stage 2. Watering eyes and two little tears while the TSA folk tried to assure me it would only take a moment, where was I going, they hadn't heard final call yet, etc. but all I was thinking was "FUUUUUUUCK." On the inside of course.

After what seemed an eternity I jammed my laptop into my bag and ran, again, down to gate 11. The door to the gangway was still open--thankfully--and the gate attendant waved me to just come on through. He took my pass and the staff closed the door to the plane right behind me. I texted my dad a cryptic "on plane. call abia. parked illegal on rental car return floor. car will be towed." as we were starting to take off, hoping that the fam could work the phones and possibly save my ass, and then off we went. 8:43 p.m.

The flight arrived to El Paso 15 minutes early. My sis had, in fact, been working the phones for an hour with no luck. In the end I was able to find an Enterprise Rental rep--Brett/Brent--actually up on the 3rd floor who was unbelievably nice and was willing to check whether my car was still there. It was. Unfortunately, he also let me know that it was in a space that used to be owned by Advantage rental car before they closed down their Austin airport location. That means that no vehicles are technically authorized to park there and even he had been recently warned to move some Enterprise cars or have them towed. Brett advised that only the general airport info desk might be able to help. He gave me the numbers to call (we'd already called them--no answer) and then also kindly, quickly agreed to go stick a sign on the windshield that said something to the effect of "Left Car due to Emergency. Please call..."

So, dear readers, kindly send out your vibes that my car will not be towed by the time I get back on Sunday. And, also, if you're in the Austin area and ever need a rental car, for the love of god and my karma, rent from Enterprise. I wasn't even a customer and they gave me excellent customer service. And ask for Bret/Brent.

Off to Walgreens now to pick up prescriptions and other liquids (lotion, mousse, etc.) I had to leave behind. Am very glad to be doing so, even at 12:35 a.m. El Paso time, rather than driving across Texas in the middle of the night. Feel like I used one of my nine lives tonight. Whew.

I spent most of today figuring out how to get some work done while my access was limited and Outlook was giving me many issues. Seems my services were terminated, or so sayeth IT. And no, that doesn't mean I'm fired...just that I'm coming up in their system as term'd. I'm not the only one with issues though. Had a co-worker denied VPN access (which I still have for some reason) on Monday morning and he called in first thing to be told he was terminated on Christmas Eve. Can you say heart attack? Anyway, it all appears to be some sort of automated snafu that no one has been able to identify, but the fix is having two levels of managers reinstate access. Give you 3 guesses how many managers aren't on vacay right now. Alright, true they do work hard, blah, blah, blah, but terribly inconvenient to all be gone right now. They are checking email in the evenings, however, so hopefully all will be fixed manana.

Other than playing dueling laptops today, I also finished the paperwork to refi my mortgage. Always a fun time, and hard to swallow those damn closing costs, the refi will nevertheless make a difference in my monthly cashflow, which in turn means the ability to pay down my credit card debt (owing about half to Evita's med bills) in the next few months while not incurring anymore, and still being able to make my reduced student loan payments. I won't be in the position to save, beyond what already goes to my retirement and health care spending plans, but zero credit card debt will save me the cost of interest and that alone makes me feel hopeful.

Today was day 2 of week 1 of my targeted training for the Austin Half-Marathon. I've modified a first-timer's 10 week start-up from Runners magazine to get me there in 7 weeks. The type-A side of my personality was inclined to go balls-out and modify the experienced marathoner program, but I'm trying to hold that psycho beast at bay. Taking it slow with just 2 mile runs yesterday and today. Despite some soreness, I felt stronger today and pushed my minutes-per-mile to 10.5. I probably could have pushed it to between 9 and 10, but that's not what the program calls for and I'm going to do my best to stick to a set regimen. I don't want to burn out or injure myself like some daffy weekend warrior who doesn't know any better. Besides, every Saturday calls for serious distance--beginning with 8 miles this weekend--albeit with breaks, and I want to save my knees for those hauls.

I'll be in Arlington again this weekend. The boy is going to add me to his gym membership, which is very kind of him and will make my gym dues well below what they would be otherwise, and I'll be able to do that 8 miler at the River Legacy park that I love. (Just pray the unseasonably warm Texas weather continues. I despise running in the cold.) I'm uber excited to see him and celebrate the new year, watch his Huskers battle it out in the Gator Bowl, and generally have another wonderful time. The twist is that this time I'll be bringing the Cheese, also known as Evita/Velveeta with me. She traveled so well to and from El Paso that I'm not too worried about her on such a short trip. I just hope his cats aren't too startled by her. She won't mind them, but I'd hate for them to hide all weekend because of her.

As for actual New Year's Eve, I will be walking over to a neighbor's house to hang out with them, their little boy, and another pair of good friends and their 2 daughters who also live just down the street from me. It will be quiet and laid back, but sure to have good food and laughs and, really, I prefer that to just about anything else--especially the club scene. Blech! [Side note: my sister was groped repeatedly at a 'nice' club back home and finally had to make a scene to get one drunken a-hole to back off. If I were her, well, let me just say that I can take care of myself. And if I had been with her...well, that's another story. She's much too 'nice' in my opinion, at least to strangers.] Then I shall wake early, refreshed and rested, to pack the car, pick up some menudo, and hit the road.

All for now I suppose. I'm going to do some quick ab work, then make dinner and try to write. Hoping to get back on schedule soon. Oh, one more thing--a major milestone was reached today when I did my first unaided pull-up since high school. True it was with a close-in, underhand grip, and from a standing position and not a dead-hang, but it shows progress since I started with my over the door pull-up bar. I know it probably doesn't sound like much, but it's a big deal to me. I dislike feeling weak. And it's not about size, either. I don't mind body weight as long as I can carry it, as long as it's useful. It's much more a mental/physical sense of being capable...being able to run if I need to, lift if I have to, knock the wind out of some douche-bag at a club if he dares touch my little sister...you get the point.

I mentioned heartbreak and demons in a tweet yesterday. Reading it now it strikes me as overly dramatic. A good turn of phrase, but not entirely accurate. Not entirely.

My sister remarked on how her friends, now two years past their break-ups and involved in new relationships, still kvetch about running into their exes on visits home. She's in their same boat now. And she thinks it's a pretty shitty deal. It still surprises me that for all her gifts, empathy doesn't seem to be one of them. She didn't 'get' until now the anxiety that comes from having the past you'd like to forget lurking around every corner. Maybe it's not empathy, but just a lack of imagination...

For many of us from El Paso who've made our homes and lives elsewhere, this is a shared holiday experience. We return home to celebrate and catch up with friends and family, often finding ourselves confronted not just by memories, but by the living, breathing inhabitants of those memories.

I suppose we're lucky. Some people have to deal with heartbreak in the same city where they live. I think those people are very brave.

Braver still are those whose memories don't walk, but haunt instead. Not ghosts of people, exactly, but of loss and tragedy. Death and destruction of the world they had defined for themselves. A father gone to work, never to return. A sister lost in the desert night. Public trials and years of healing. The coming and going of anniversaries that were never joyous.

Still we come home or stay home even as we make new homes for ourselves. We go to mass on Christmas Eve in the church where we were married...the church where our father's funeral was held...the church where our sister's memorial service was recorded for the nightly news. We drive past the streets and buildings and vistas of significance that are insignificant to everyone else. We make new memories. New lives. New dreams. We move on. We're happy.

And we return.

And tomorrow I return home, too, and leave my hometown behind.

Back home away from home in Arlington at the boy's digs. My drive into town last night was almost doubled in time due to being miserably lost no less than thrice. The latter two 'where the hell am I' moments occurred during a long thunderstorm that dropped buckets on my little car. Visibility was bad and I missed by usual landmarks and signs. (On the upside, the lightning show before I actually drove into the storm was spectacular.)

Still online right now working the regular '40-hour' gig. Have a project launching tomorrow that my lead designer is scrambling to try to finish now--his fiance has been due any day and is now in pre-labor as we speak. Shite. Still QA-ing.

I'm also trying to tie off on a piece for bitchbuzz that I started writing last week, then tweaked, and tweaked again, and now I'm just not happy with it. I'm going to go back to my clippings and see what I can salvage. But I'm exhausted, still working, and I'm just royally pissed that I've already missed my deadline and now I'm faced with not turning it in again or turning in something sub par. Poop.

Sigh. Guess it's a good thing that the boy had to work tonight, what with all this business for me to handle. Still...it's chilly out and I'd like to snuggle down under the covers and just knock out until he comes home. And then I could really snuggle.

Aw, mush.

Just realized that Election Day was an anniversary for us...the 4th of July was our start date (spoken like a true PM). Both rather auspicious days of patriotic import to have as milestones. Groovy

Back to QA...