Shed Those Clothes

Spending the better part of five days in a car will leave you lots of time to think . . . about everything. And once you've thought about all the normal stuff, your mind really begins to wonder.

Today I found myself embedded deeply in thought solely from a verse in a song on the radio. Oddly, I don't even recall the song, artist, or the exact lyrics that started my little thought process. It was about a woman being hurt in a relationship and then being afraid to love again.

My initial thought was, "Who hasn't?" (Keep in mind, this isn't my third marriage because it's my lucky number.)

Then I started thinking about how differently we love the first time we commit. How freely we give of ourselves before we realize we can, and probably will be, hurt. In truth, it's like we're standing there naked and vulnerable; offering all. Expecting all in return.

And each time we try again, we are a little less open. A little less naked and vulnerable. A little more clothed.

I know for a fact that even with my husband of fourteen years I am not as open or free with my emotions as I was the first time I ever fell in love. I don't know that I can be. Too much experience, too many walls.

As the thought developed, I realized that actually it's not just in love that we don protective gear. It's in all relationships we have; with our children, our co-workers, friends, siblings, parents, etc. In a sense, we are truly born naked and open and gear ourselves more and more as we grow and experience life.

It's natural.

It's also sad. Yes, we are more protected. Yes, we are less likely to get hurt. But what about that unbridled passion of giving your all? How long has it been since you felt that . . . offered that?

So I challenge you to join me. Pick a day, a 24-hour period, and strip. Shed those clothes, those layers.

• Forget every bad thing your co-worker ever said about you.
  
• Overlook every slight from your neighbor.
  
• Pretend your siblings were never mean.
  
• Erase all ill feelings toward your boss, or your job.
  
• Image this is your first date, ever.
  
• Act as if you've never been hurt.
  
• Pretend your perfect.

For one day, smile and be happy. Look forward to everything you do. Tease. Flirt. Share unconditional love and support. Enthusiastically great each adventure, each person.

Join me for one day of skinny dipping.

The Trip

As you can see, I made it safely to CO to spend time with Bonnet and my new grand daughter, B'ella. I also made it safely home.

I owe the success of the trip to my friend, Bill. He is the person that suggested I drink Monster energy drinks to keep me awake during the long days of driving. Prior to this trip, I have never been able to drive longer than 2-3 hours without falling asleep at the wheel. I had no such issues the entire trip there or back. In fact, I was wide awake and everything was extremely clear and vivid.

How liberating.

For the first time in my life, I can truly look forward to taking road trips anywhere I want to go -- given enough funds for gas and hotel rooms. (All the more reason to look for a job when Will goes to school next month.)

The trip was amazing. My nine days with Bonnet and B'ella were priceless. I remember my mother telling me when Bonnet was born that she had no idea she would love a grandchild (on sight) as much as a child she had carried for nine months. I now know exactly what she was talking about.

The opportunity to see Bonnet as a mother brought tears to my eyes. Her obvious love and devotion for B'ella -- precious. I wanted to just wrap them both in my arms and protect them from growing-up and learning to raise a child -- neither of which can be done without mistakes and a few hard knocks.

I'm so glad I made the trip. So glad I had the time with my girls. I'm even glad I took Will along and that we spent some time sight seeing on the return trip.

All I have to say in closing is that none of you are safe. I have wheels (and monsters) and I know how to use them.

Changes

I've always been a person that doesn't handle change well. I like living in my routine and slowing graduating to new phases of life. In my experience, giant changes proceed difficult times. Lost job, new baby, moving into a new house, adjusting to marriage. Not that all of those things are bad, just difficult.

In fact, most 'major changes' take the average person six months to adjust to. During that time they are more emotional, stressed, and prone to physical ailments. If you are more prone to stress or depression than normal, they are harder than that to bounce back from.

I remember the first time I flew on a plane. I was 34, on my way up the corporate ladder. I was flown to CO for a weeks worth of classes. I cried when the plane took off, scared of facing this new experience on my own. Afraid of being away from my family and home. (And, I'm afraid of heights - that didn't help.) Each additional time I've flown since has become easier. No poor stranger has had to hold my hand on takeoff since the first time.

Now I'm facing another first. Another change. And it's scary too, thought mentally I realize it shouldn't be. I'm going on my first cross-country trip alone. I've driven to Tyler, to Midland, to Ft. Worth by myself. I've never driven out of Texas on my own. Will and I are leaving Thursday morning and hope to be in CO by Friday evening.

Sure, this sounds like a totally doable thing to most people. My issue is that I seriously can't drive for more than 2-3 hours max at a time, then I start falling asleep. So, my plan is to drive until I need to stop and . . . well, stop. Oddly, it's not the thought of the driving that's bothering me. Yes, it will take me much longer than it should. But I'll have Will with me and I don't expect he'll be griping about lots of pit stops.

What's bothering me is that I've never done it before. I've never driven across states on my own. Never had to find and check into a hotel by myself. Never had to worry about how far to the next gas station or if I'd make it to another town before dark - cause believe me, no one wants me on the highway after dark.

While sharing this irrational fear with a friend over coffee tonight, Latisha said that doing 'new' things actually becomes harder to adjust to as we get older. When young, everything is new. As we get older, there are less new things to do and when we stumble across one, it rocks our world.

At least in my case, I think she's right.

So if you have any good secrets for staying awake on trips, or ideas of good stopping places on the trip to CO, be sure to share.

Oh, and here is the reason for my trip; Briella (B'ella) Riddles. Born today around 3:00 p.m. At birth, she was 7.3 pounds and 18-3/4 inches long. Not a great photo, but the first one her Grammy got to see.

Crazy Uncle Steve

My sister, Byjo, and her two children showed up for a visit yesterday. They are going to be spending a few days with us and we're very excited.

Byjo has two children, Payton who is seven and Sam who is five. Sam is actually only three weeks older than Will.

Jody, Byjo's husband, gets along well with Steve and we use to really enjoy seeing the entire family on a more regular biases.

An hour or so after Steve got home last night, Sam walks up to him and asks him a question. To be honest, I never found out what the question was because the very calm way he addresses Steve (and what he called him) was so funny.

"Hu, Crazy Uncle Steve, can . . . "

Hum, wonder where he got the idea that was Steve's official name? Gotta watch how you refer to people in your children's hearing or they will tell on you every time.

When Steve Dies

My best friend, Charlene, and I have had many conversations about what we'll do when our husbands die. Usually it revolves around things are husbands don't enjoy now: crowds, travel, certain type of arts. We've talked about having small houses next to each other in a cooler climate. We've talked about taking cruises together. About never having to 'plan' another meal. And yes, about never having to do someone else's laundry again. LOL

It's not that we don't love our husbands, it's just human nature. Our jest on living without them in our lives. Which, is a very good possibility.

I was recently telling a male friend of mine about our plans. But I shared the fact that it finally dawned on me that we, Charlene and I, would be pretty frigging old when our spouses would die. Sort of takes all the fun out of making plans.

Bill's response was that we'd just sit around and complain about the stuff we 'would' have done if they'd just died off sooner. I laughed until my side hurt . . . he's right.

Tonight, I told Steve about mine and Charlene's plans to live next to each other after his and Christian's death. He surprised, and delighted, me by telling me he already had plans for after my death. LOL

Him and his best bud, Vicky, are retiring to her 700 aches and putting up homes at opposite sides of the land. They'll meet for Sunday brunch each week. Sort of wimpy plans if you ask me, but he'll go before I do, so I'll let him dream his wimpy plans.

Velcro Rollers

As any women with terminally straight hair can tell you, there is little more dear to us than an easy, cheap, and non-harmful way to curl our hair.

Most curling methods involve heat in some form or another and tend to dry out your hair over time. My stylest, last week, recommended I try the Velcro rollers that are so popular now. One reason is that they come in very large sizes; great for adding body to long locks. Another reason was the curl tends to hold longer than a heat generated curl. Living in a place as hot and humid as Texas, most heat generated curls melt away before lunch.

I did question her about the length of time it might take to dry, as my hair takes hours to dry after a shower. She assured me that she uses the curlers and has no problems with them.

I purchased several sets of curlers. While my hair is baby fine and therefore doesn't look overly thick, there is a shit load of it. (Yeah, I did go there.) It always takes twice as many curlers as anyone expects.

I took a shower about 7:30 this evening and immediately put my hair up, using a total of 18 curlers. Three hours later I took them out so my hair can dry before I go to bed, which is still two hours away. My hair is less than 1/2 way through it's drying process.

One more item to add to my freecycle pile in the corner.

Too bad, it sounded like a great idea.

The Price of "K"

I have an old cell phone that I purchase minutes for on a need-to biases. I've had the phone for three or four years, but not many people know I have it, or the number.

I purchased it as a tool to keep in touch with my girls after they left home. Both of them had cell phones and would text, or answer texts, even when you couldn't locate them near a land-line.

Being in a generation of people unaccustomed to texting, there was a giant learning curve, on my end, to even understand half of the messages I received. But over the years I've come to understand, and/or developed the ability to at least guess, what different acronyms stand for. But there is one abbreviation that just kills me: 'k'.

I remember the first time Tori responded to a text with 'k'. I felt jipped.

"What," I responded,
"I'm not even important enough to deserve an 'o'?"

"k".

What the hell kind of text is that to send?

It bothered me when I would receive a text that contained that one letter. I'm not even sure why. The feeling of negligence, as though someone was walking away and flipping their hand at you as they did so? The impatience displayed by lacking the time or energy to type in a 'k'? The cost of receiving a text that was no longer split into words . . . but contained only a single letter?

Who the hell knows. It just bothered me.

And like most things, over time, it ceased to bother me. In fact, I send at least two to three emails a week that contain only 'k'.

I just hope I'm not irritating someone else.