Headed into Boulder for a day of internet seeking and latte drinking. The internet was weak, but the latte was italian and paired with a feta cheese and olive crossiant, that just so happened to be freshly grilled. So what if I couldn't gchat? Sluuuuuurp!
I walked around town, followed the Boulder Creek Trail through town and back again. Jumped into some better internet, saw the craziest squirrels in the world! NYC squirrels don't have nuthin' on these punks! The one just starts double timing the other dude in the head - and you'll just have to watch to see how it turns out.
Decided I'd had enough of town and agreed to meet with Dan after he got off work on his way home. I'd just pulled over in the mountains and hitched a ride back with him.
It was a splendidly peaceful and nice day to catch up, read comments, write the blog, talk to family and enjoy the sunshine of Boulder.
Tomorrow I hit the road for two nights of camping! Moab Thursday and then the Grand Canyon on Friday! Never been to either but found some places to stay near some cool hikes. Dungee is going to rest up, she's a wee bit tired these days! I don't think she's ever had this much exercise and she's loving it. Drinking out of streams, sleeping on the cool side of the rock and laying by the bubbling creek. It's a dog's life out here, I'm just the chaperone.
When I was 13 or so my good friend Dan turned to me and said "a day without a grass-stain is a day ain't worth livin'." It seemed fitting to me then that I awoke yesterday to the bright orange sunrise beaming into Dan's mountain hideaway. Tucked into the mountainside near the continental divide and technically in the town of Nederland, Dan's place is an oasis of pine, blue skies, snowy peaks and sparkling sunshine.
We were up by 6:30 and drinking coffee overlooking the valley while Dungee fetched sticks. We packed up, got some provisions in town and headed up to the Hessie Trail in search of Lost Lake. It was still wintery up in the mountains and we hiked through feet of packed snow. Lost Lake appeared to us in a minty frozen green while the wind whipped through the mountains. We found a nice rock and sat down to enjoy some lunch. We cracked a loaf of bread with some sharp cheddar cheese and dipped "mary's gone crackers" (personal favorite of the Goddy Family!) into Deviled Egg Potato Salad. AMAZING.
We hiked back down while Dungee jumped and dodged around sniffing, fetching and loving life.
We headed into Nederland in the afternoon to walk town, meet some locals and sample the locally brewed beer. We had some food on the sunny deck, talked Euchre and met Mitchell Wolf, who showed me his amazing tattoo.
On the way back to Dan's place, we took an unmarked side road, climbed to a small perch and watched the sunset over the most magnificent valley. It was breathtaking. Not a person, house or car to be seen. Just never ending nature. "You see? All I need is something like this ONCE a day and I'll be o.k." I said to Dan. "Yeah, not bad" he agreed.
Dan and I headed back to the house and tried our luck at a game of Scrabble, but we bagged it and decided to sit outside under the beaming Colorado stars. We spotted Saggitarus and the Big Dipper and generally had a great time talking about life, nature and the next big adventures ahead of both of us.
Tomorrow I'll have to wash out my jeans, they got a bit wet and grass-stained on the hike. Perfect.
Dungee and I started the day with a long run through my old neighborhood of Pleasant Ridge. I always love to run when I travel, feeling that I truly get to see the real nitty gritty of a place and at a pace that makes me feel like I am seeing just enough to give me a taste. It was interesting to run my old running routes, pass the same houses, pound the same pavement. I felt a little like my old self, from 8 years ago, when I had decided to leave Cincinnati and lmove to New York. It got me thinking about all this moving… Almost 10 years ago I moved to Cincinnati for the people. A boyfriend, and lots of really great friends. I had decided that any place with all those people that I love would be just fine with me. I lasted 2 years. I had to leave. I had decided upon New York City. Why? The experience. I wanted to go and get the best work experience I could in my field of marketing and advertising. I wanted to live there for 5 years and then leave with my power resume in my pocket. It was almost 8 years later and I was moving with my somewhat power resume in my pocket. Could’ve been a little tighter, but who’s complaining?
So, as I heard later at our lovely barbecue, why California? Why Encinitas? Why are you moving from one end of the country to the next? Well, let me put it this way…
Well, that is how I felt every beautiful, bright and sunny summer morning in New York City. I had exhausted every park, museum, bench and bagel shop. I wanted NATURE, not activities and I was just sick and tired of being frustrated with sunny summer days.
So, this time? I’m moving strictly for the NATURE, for the PLACE, and for the experience of living somewhere naturally beautiful that has my favorite activity outside my door every single day of the year… surfing.
Ahh surfing. We talked a lot about surfing later with my very fun and adorable girlfriends of Cincy. We grilled out, we caught up, we laughed and we all talked about just what makes us happy. The air was electric as we shared stories of triumphs, loves, and adventures. We literally kept shocking each other. Once we started talking about what inspires us the stories just kept flowing out of us, and the night grew dark on the porch and our laughs drifted down the Cincinnati streets. It was a beautiful night. No wonder I moved here for the people.
I left Cincinnati at 7am with a 750 mile drive to Omaha ahead of me. I knew this would be the big test of my trip, the BIG DRIVE. Dungee immediately fell asleep and I zoned out between my book on tape, NPR and talking to people on the phone.
From Indiana to Illinois to Iowa to Omaha I felt like I was in one of those old Hollywood movie sets where they just keep rotating the scenery behind the actors as they pretend to drive. I swear I saw the same farm house over 20 times. I’d get off the highway for gas, get back on and be so mad at myself because I thought I had gone back on the way I came. But, no, everything just looked eerily similar.
This got me thinking “Why would people move here? Why would people live here?” and I remembered the card that Bomber & Mary had given to me at my going away party “life grows fast wherever you are”. Ain’t that that truth? These people probably had ancestors that were going over the plains in their wagons and the wife probably turned to the husband and said “Let’s just take a break, make some eggs and do the laundry. We’ll catch up in a few days after some rest.” Cut to 3 generations later and now Grandma’s big outing is to go to ‘Tuesday Morning’ at the Sioux City Mall for some discount sympathy cards.
Life happens fast people. Go to where you love it.
I was hosted in Omaha by the lovely Willa Miller and her husband, Denny. Willa let me have my choice among her crocheted potholders and I chose the one that looked most like a tie-die. It’s awesome. I had a nice night’s sleep after a 13 hour drive and then I was up and eating some breakfast with Willa, catchin’ up on life in Omaha. She’s a smart cookie, with a strong and happy family of 10 grandkids, so I knew I was lucky to have breakfast with her. Busy lady! She waved me out of the driveway and I hit the great state of Nebraska! I would like to say that I am sure Nebraska has some lovely parts to it, but from what I saw from I80 it leaves a lot to be desired. I always wondered if I would be able to survive solitary confinement. You know, like in those prison movies and books when the only smart guy gets time in the hole? Well driving through Nebraska felt like being in the hole. It’s nice to know I would survive.
Hitting Colorado was like a dream come true. The land broke, the landscape changed, the sky opened up and the stops weren’t all chain restaurants. I had a great little photo session at a rinky dink gas station in the middle of nowhere. It was fantastic. I just kept driving until I saw the rockies, then I drove till I was at the base of them in Boulder. I pulled up to the Southern Sun brewery where my friend Dan works, got a tour of the pub had a pint of raspberry wheat and we were on our way up INTO the mountains to Dan’s kickass mountain hideaway. The drive was amazing! We took a walk in the foothills, caught the sunset, caught up and got all nostalgic looking at the videos of New York. Dan left there 2 years ago for the mountains of Colorado and he once told me “the best thing you’ll ever see is New York City in your rearview mirror”. He asked me how it looked in the mirror when I left and I turned to him and said “you know what? I didn’t even look”.
Just then his microwave dinged, his Healthy Choice dinner was ready. We laughed hysterically about this for almost 10 minutes and then I promised to cook the next day, after a long hike to Lost Lake. Sounds good to me.
Dungee and I took immediately to the open road, the air in the windows, the barns, smalltowns, traffic, signs, and seeing the heartland. We saw a barn completely painted over with "RON PAUL for PRESIDENT", a "HELL IS REAL" sign and "Ohio" barns. The sun was out, the tunes were supplied by Bonnie and Smurfette runs like a thoroughbred. It was a great day.
I pulled into Cincinnati at my friend Jenny's house and we immediately hit the town, walking all over the place and stopping by my old neighborhood watering hole, the Gaslight, for a pint and some darts. The bartender, when he heard that I used to live down the street but had moved to New York, offered to charge me $12 for a beer to "make me feel at home". I reminded him I used to pay $1.35 for a draft there and we finally settled on $2 for a frosty Bud. Not bad.
Please notice the pictures in the bar hanging of people on the toilet around the world. I love this so much I can't even explain it. The rules seem to be couples in the bathroom, using facilities. I think I may have found my photo collage for the trip. Wait. Nevermind.
Jenny and I stopped by UDF for some snacks and on the way out were accused by 2 very silly cops of stealing a 40. Ummmmm WHAT?!?! They took my ID, told me they would be reviewing the videotape and would get back to us. Nevermind that we didn't have a 40 on us and they had already searched our bags! We were a little less than amused with Cincy's police force and I wondered why they didn't have anything better to do than investigate to women for NOT stealing a beer. I mean, really.
We laughed about it this morning and then when we opened our UDF bag we found a Cincinnati Reds cookie in there that we had NOT bought! (They never rang us up for them, we did not steal those cookies!) I am heading to UDF now to pay the $1.29 so I can leave this town without being a fugitive.
Big thanks to the folks at the Gaslight for my first official ad. It was completely unrehearsed. Somebody get these two an agent!
One more day to relax and visit in Cincy and then on Sunday I hit to road to OMAHA! YAY!
My last day in my hometown was spent very much enjoying the natural beauty of Tamarack Lake. I woke up early to begin prepping Smurfette for the trip, flushing the radiator, caulking the windows and cleaning it out. Big thanks to my Dad and Mom for all their help on getting me ready!
My cousin, Pete Curry, came by to take a walk through the woods and go to the Amish store for some cheese and nuts. It was a beautiful walk and nice to see him before the big trip. Check out the muskie that we saw right against the shore! Amazing! Estimated at over 25"! YOWSA!
After a long afternoon of packing, my father and I took the kayaks and jumped in right in front of the house for a nice paddle. It was so peaceful and beautiful. I had forgotten all the sounds and smells of Tamarack. Little flowers would peek out at me and I would immediately remember picking them as a child. I'd hear the sounds of geese fly over the water and recognize the soft flap and their honking as sounds that used to wake me up on summer mornings. The smell of moss, the slap of a lily pad against the boat, the voice of my father as he pointed out turtles, trees, plants and carp. I felt so like Amanda when my kayak was slowly drifting across the lake and I realized just how lucky I was to have this lake as my backyard for over 18 years. It's good to go home again.
As soon as the kayak ride was over our lifelong friends, Sue and Diane, came by to have one last walk with me before I took off from Meadville. What hilarious, witty, silly and fun women! We had a lovely time and Sue coordinated my Omaha stop so I could stay with her sister, Willa.
By the end of the day the truck was packed solid and my Mom and I were able to sneak in a scrabble game and some popcorn. (I won!)
One last night of peepers lulling me to sleep and I was off to Cincinnati the next morning. My official kick-off of the cross country drive!!! YEEEE-HAW!
Awoke to a bit of drizzle and spent the majority of my day regretting not learning origami from our foreign exchange student Shatoko Shindoh. That girl could pack an entire wardrobe into a make-up bag. I swear. She is probably some kind of consultant for a storage or executive travel company now, smacking people on the hand when they don't get the t-shirt roll exactly right.
I could've used her. I had to keep making decisions on things that I just couldn't take. Tossing shirts into a donation pile, negotiating with myself on why I NEED that crummy sweatshirt. My mom lovingly hemmed by torn vests and washed out all my whites.
Before I knew it it was time to cook! I whipped up some pasta & sauce and my friend Jim came by toting "Travels with Charlie" and bringing an old theatre buddy of mine, Dan Hallet. Dan had once played my father in "Mother Hicks". We ate dinner on the porch, then took a stroll down to the lakefront for the sunset. We talked alot about proper blogging, how to entertain and came up with a great name for a company, "If Jargon Was a Verb".
I tucked myself into bed after a nice chat with my mom and fell asleep to the sound of the peepers again. Ahhhhhh country life .
Second Day of my trip started at 6am with a glorious sunrise over Tamarack Lake (country folks get up early ya’ll). My mom, Dungee and I took a long walk down by the dam and watched the skunk cabbage come into bloom. We had to zip out of the house to make it in time for my Mom to vote in the primaries! YAY! Lots of Ron Paul supporters in this area. He definitely takes the roadside sign polls.
We spent the afternoon visiting my Grandma Betty on her 78th birthday! We ate yummy cake from Giant Eagle and watched a McCain speech on TV. We laughed at his amazing ability to deflect every possible question posed to him.
Lady in audience: How would you support social services such as after school learning programs? McCain: I think the audience would love to hear more about your organization, go ahead and give us a little ad for it now. Lady: (Talks for 5 minutes about her job) McCain: America needs more people like you. Next question!
My Mom and Aunt and I went to Big Lots for some discount cosmetics (I needed a First Aid Kit!) and I got to shoot a hysterical video of them on the .25 cent horsey ride outside. Now you know why I am the way I am people. Now you know.
We drove home the back way and found lots of stunning clouds, farms and vistas. I took a nice run in with Dungee along the lake and then we did some landscaping.
Before we knew it it was time for dinner, the news and bed (country folks go to bed early ya'll).
Tomorrow: Packing, cleaning the truck and hitting the internet cafe downtown. YEEE-HAW!
Meadville Joke of the Day: Why do they call dog man's best friend? Well, if you stuck your wife and your dog in your trunk for an hour, when you opened the trunk the dog would be happy to see you.
I woke up to the smell of a baking fritatta and the pitter-patter of feet. The family that I have been staying with in Park Slope had all awoken early to have breakfast with me before my big move. The Goddy-Schmidt’s had very lovingly taken me in and treated me absolutely like family for the last two months. I had grown so comfortable and happy in their house that when David asked me why I was moving yesterday I had to reply “If I don’t leave now I don’t think I’ll ever be able to”. Living in their library and having breakfast every morning with the happiest 9 year old alive, then being able to have coffee with the ladies of the house, dinner with all on most nights and just generally being part of their big beautiful kingdom was one of the happiest periods of my life.
I ate my fritatta and matzoh, downed a cup of coffee, opened my gift as I tried not to cry and loaded the bean machine. They gathered on the front stoop to wave me off as Patrick packed the van. Dungee and Lola looked so forlorn, but Lola was heading to the park and easily got over it. A few hugs and a promise that I will be back soon. I honestly don’t know how I could stay away for long.
Driving out of the city was gray, foreboding and the view from the Verrazano was desolate and smog-filled. The Goethels bridge never ceases to amaze me that it’s a four lane and I had to take video to show the folks in Meadville just how tiny NYC roads are. I hope I keep the insane ability to drive on them!
Once we got out of the city and started making some progress into Pennsylvania the clouds started to lift and the sun began to break. I started to get very teary eyed thinking that I would be far away from Patrick. I suggested we play “All the Great Times We Had Together” and we filled up the rest of the ride with very fun and memorable stories.
Arriving in Penn State was unbelievable. We passed my college dorm, McLanahan’s (tried to get a picture for Bonnie but couldn't’t! sorry!) and then zipped up through campus. It was BONKERS! The construction and students were everywhere! We met my Dad at the visitor’s center (how humiliating, but the only place we could find to meet! Tourists…) and decided we’d have lunch in Bellefonte. Subway had a special on $5 footlongs (kiss organic figs and almonds goodbye!) so we grabbed 3 and jumped by the river in the park and ate in a gazebo.
We had a sad but happy goodbye with Patrick, he turned me over to my Dad and Dungee, my father and I were off in Smurfette across the Nittany Mountains. The sky was filled with beautiful white clouds and the air was clear. We pulled into Meadville, watched the sunset on the front porch overlooking Tamarack Lake and I suddenly realized that I was no longer a New Yorker.
I fell asleep to the sounds of peepers and a soft breeze into my bedroom, dreaming of what lay ahead, but missing everything in my rear view mirror…
I spent my last day in NYC working, seeing sights, blowin' bubbles with Bombette and saying yet more goodbyes. Every time I thought about leaving I choked up and looked to the cloudy skies as the tears rolled down my face. I have lived in New York since December of 2000. I became an adult in this city. I have had big jobs and small jobs, been hired, been fired, been promoted and quit. I have dated, hated, loved, broken-up, and made-up. I have witnessed birth and I have witnessed death. I have run to feel alive and I have run for my life. I have seen one of my dogs die and I found the courage to get a new one. I have built a life here for myself centered around people that I adore, but I have fallen out of love with the place itself.
It's time for me to go.
Tomorrow, I take off and hit to road on the first leg of my cross country road trip. I'll be driving out of the city (very fittingly) in the Bean Machine with Patrick and we'll (hysterically) be meeting my dad with my truck at my alma mater, Penn State. I'll jump in the truck with my Dad and drive back to my hometown of Meadville for a few days of final packing and more East Coast goodbyes. This hand-off kinda feels like I am living my life in reverse and fast forward at the same time!
Before I leave I want to show my love for New York City. It didn't work out between us, kid, but it sure was one hell of a ride. Never change, even though I know you will.
I know that I'll see everyone again, but that doesn't make it any easier to leave the people I have grown to love, see, talk to, travel with, work with, run with, eat with, dance with and most importantly, laugh with.
I felt so inspired by the people that came last night to toast my farewell with a few pints and plenty of giggles. There was a theme that kept popping up in almost every conversation, card and present.
The opportunity to seize the day.
The belief that life is something to be lived to the fullest and the world is full of possibility, hope, friends and adventures. I am so lucky to have so many people that came out to tell me they love me, they support me and they think I am doing the exact thing I should be doing. What a gift.
I am a lucky, lucky girl to know that I have so many people that love me and my heart loves you all right back and I felt the pull at my heart strings all night. I take the phrase 'heart strings' very seriously, and I like to imagine my heart having little red strings that are wound around it, extending all over the world and connecting me to the people and places that I love. I have strings that go to Meadville, Switzerland, California, Australia, Cincinnati, Bangkok, Boulder, Myrtle Beach, Manhattan, Brooklyn, Alaska, Virginia, Arizona, Florida, India, New Jersey, South Africa, Block Island, Maryland, Utah... and more. I love to think of a specific person or place that I love and imagine the exact string pulling me to them. I know the location of each string in my heart and always make sure it stays secure there. And last night I got to feel just how many strings that are connecting me to New York City.
On my cross country drive I will be visiting people all across the nation that I have little strings connecting me to and I can't wait to actually jump in a truck and drive to see those people and places and maybe even get some new strings.
Yesterday I received one of the best emails of my life. My cousin, Tim, emailed to say that the replacement troops came to his post in Ghazni, Afghanistan and he jumped on a Chinook to Bagram and is on his way HOME. His tour is over.
I immediately started crying tears of joy.
Having a cousin serving in Afghanistan for the past year has been an immense source of pride for me. He is a medic. He is a fighter. He is a total and complete bad-ass. But, he was in a war. And I worried about him a lot, as did our entire family. I am so happy to know he is on his way home and he is healthy and happy and ready to take his life by storm back here in the states.
Guess what? He's thinking of moving to San Diego! Said he's ready to by a truck and drive out too. It would be amazing to have family near me out there! DOOOOO IT!
So, here's to my cousin Tim! Thanks for serving and you rock!
I remember once, in college, my roommate from Korea and I got into a HUGE fight. HUGE. We were both so absolutely disgusted with each other and could not, no matter what, see the point the other was trying to make. The argument was over something seemingly silly, something that maybe only college students have the time to argue about. We were arguing about landscape. Specifically the inspirational and beautiful. Kat was adamant that the skyline of New York City, with it's twinkling lights and towering buildings provided the most beautiful landscape in existence. I on the other hand picked a variety of almost 15 natural landscapes that I thought blew the artificial outlines of NYC out of the ballpark. We both left the living room terribly pissed, and I will fully admit that I did NOT trust her fully after that moment. I mean WHO can possibly find inspiration in those BUILDINGS!?!?
Cut to: 5 years later and I'm coming across the GW Bridge and the twinkling lights of the Manhattan skyscrapers are dipping into the Hudson and reflecting into the navy shores of New Jersey. I fell in love. I turned my head to catch it from the side and I followed the light bouncing off the waves the entire drive down the Henry Hudson/9A/West Side Highway. I watched the landscape change and I slowly rolled down my window to tip my head out and catch a receding glance of the white lights spanning the bridge.
Tonight, on the way back from a NJ Nets game, I came back into Manhattan across the GW Bridge. The air was clear. The sky was crisp. The buildings were twinkling. In fact, it may have been more twinkly than the first drive I ever took into Manhattan.
But this time I felt the weight of the buildings, the burn of the lights, the filth of the waves. I felt like I had seen the sparkle fade. Felt the buildings become burdened by their own stone. Felt the highways not as paths to the fabulous, but as mere trails to the same old same old, but with more potholes. I fully respected the pure aesthetic, but found no real, innate joy.
I realized on tonight's drive that I have been living my life among concrete and wire.
I cannot wait for skies than span the horizon and nights that drift into a lawn. I am so excited for solitude, sunsets, gardens, and STARS.
It's something they never tell you about living in New York. You give up your stars. All of 'em. Nothing to see here. The lights from the city burn them all out. I never knew this. Not until I wandered out in a summer night after I had moved here and looked up and saw murky black/blue. New York does not have stars. I'm going to bed now and I am going to dream sweet big sparkly star dreams. I'll spread a blanket, lie down and gaze upwards into the stars of my dreams; and soon I'll just go in my real backyard in California.
In fact! I just read a post by my beautiful friend, Jodi, who is graciously opening her happy and wonderful Encinitas home to me as a place to find my roots when I land in Encinitas.
You can see the stars from her fire pit! Look for a post on how to light a campfire in a few weeks!
Campfire at Jodi's
My good friend Jim just reminded me of this beautiful song, California Stars, and I figured I should link to it. The first time I heard this song was this past January as I was riding shotgun in a car in Troncones, Mexico on my way back from a long day surfing. I had my arm out the window as the warm air drifted in on my sandy feet (also out the window)... Hmmm, maybe this was when I decided to move to California?!
The going away party is going to be at this totally awesome bar in Brooklyn, reBar, that allowed me to get behind the bar, work there and somehow they still turned a profit! YAY! To show my appreciation of reBar's FINE taste in beer (I'm TOTALLY addicted to Delirium Tremens) and their finer taste in bar staff (did I mention that I worked there?! As does my friend Scott! Please continue to overtip him!) we'll be throwin' it down Brooklyn style! reBar rocks and it was voted best bar 2007 by Time Out magazine. Did I sell you guys on coming to Brooklyn yet? Good. Be there. I'm not having it in Manhattan, so get over it, get over the river and enjoy a cooooool bar!
Plus, they are going to have a special on California Beer!
Thursday April 17th 8pm (or whenever you get off work, I'll be there!) ReBar 147 Front Street Dumbo, Brooklyn
Now, up until this weekend, I was with the rest of the blogosphere and media and pretty much thought she was a lil' crazy. But unlike them, I had the distinct pleasure of meeting the young gentleman that Ms. Miceli is claiming to be the son of Michael Jordan, and for his privacy I'll just call him Heir Jordan.
Heir Jordan looks pretty much like a little carbon copy of Michael Jordan. He is also a very sweet, intelligent, outgoing and adorable boy. We should all take a step back and remember that while this may be fodder and gossip for the rest of the world, back in Meadville is a little boy. An adorable one. One that who right now is ignorant to the constant whispers and snickers behind his back while he plays with his cars on the sidewalk.
We should all remember what we write and what we post and what we talk about because someday this little boy will have the power to Google himself, and what a sad day that will be.
I would hope that Mr. Jordan would stop his battles with Ms. Miceli and maybe just drive himself to Meadville to meet Heir Jordan himself. It would be hard to ignore the resemblance and it's even harder to ignore the little boy's charms and personality.
He's a great boy, no matter who his father is and anyone should be lucky to call him their son.
You know that question "what superpower would you like to have?" I want the superpower to take someone else's pain and make it your own. I remember the first time I really wanted that superpower, it was when my friend Caera's baby, Kellan, grabbed a bare lightbulb. As I smeared aloe gel on his scalded baby palms and he screamed I wished and prayed that the burns could be on my own hands instead of his. If only this were the case.
If only this were the case, I met over 270 people on Tuesday evening who would've gladly taken some of my Uncle Bruce's pain and made it their own. I met all these lovely, kind and salt of the earth folks in line at the calling service for my Uncle Bruce, also my Godfather.
While I was at home picking up my new truck, my Uncle Bruce could face the pain no longer and his life ended in the wee hours of Sunday morning. It was a shock and a painful call for my whole family to receive.
My Uncle Bruce was charismatic, handsome, kind, athletic and a real, real swell guy. I heard the same thing time and again this week. Everyone loved to have him around. He was a fixture at the YMCA where he did things like help little old ladies cross the street, gossip in the hot tub and generally cheer everyone up even though he was in horrible pain from an accident he had over 15 years ago.
The one bright spot of such a tragedy is that your family comes together, and for this it meant I got to see the Curry Boys together again. It was heart-wrenching to see only four of them, as there used to be five, but it was comforting nonetheless.
A blog is not a place to post how much you loved your Uncle, but in this case, I wanted to post what I am truly experiencing on this big adventure. Thank god I was home and could be there, and thank god I am healthy, happy and able to go out and take on an adventure.
I knew I was lucky to be able to do this big move, but now I know it more than ever before.
Meadville has crap weather (rare good sunset above), it's kinda down n' out and there isn't a whole lot to do if you're not into hunting, fishing and drinking while doing both. Often I wonder how I was able to live here and be so happy. The answer is simple... the people. Meadville has some of the funniest, brightest and most loving people that I have ever encountered and I was so happy that I got to see a few of my favorites. First, my Mom's adorable friend Sue met us for a walk in the woods and a trip to the discount Amish store. Sue bought my entire stash of cross country snacks (16 balance bars, 6 bottles of water and some deodorant) for a whopping $6.95. You gotta love those Amish! Thank You, Sue, for sponsoring my snackin' across America! YAY!
My friend Jim picked me up and we headed out for nachos, beer, pool and laughs. In fact, we had a great time at Boscoe's Bar in 5th Ward where there was $1.75 Pickled Kielbasa and the most interesting women's bathroom I have ever seen. Maybe you need this kind of bathroom after pickled kielbasa? I dunno. You tell me.
I then hopped over to Mickey's Bar, where I was surprised to see one of my favorite classmates from MASH, Sean Miller, tending bar. Sean and I used to have deep theoretical conversations such as "If John comes from Johnathon, why can't Sean be Seanathon?" Here is Seanathon Miller, behind the bar, wishing me luck... and then I act crazy. Imagine.
Rolling in at midnight was The Ring.
The Ring was an 'honorary Penn State' student back when I went there. Though he never went to Penn State, we'd usually find him pulling up every weekend with a trunk full of moonshine and toilet paper (maybe he was on his way to Boscoe's??). The Ring was usually good for some jams, hallucinations and laughs. It was great to catch up. The Ring is looking for a wife and seeing as he works for United Airlines, he is starting a campaign "Marry Me and Fly For Free." Ladies, I can put you in touch if you are interested, but please only call if you aren't afraid of drinking things that smell like nail polish.
Here is The Ring, below, and his speech to make me stay out late even though he showed up at midnight. Amazingly, it worked. What can I say? I'm a sucker for moonshine.
I packed up all my belongings and fit them into a van to drive back to my hometown, Meadville PA this past weekend. Dungee was NOT happy to be leaving NYC. She was sooo sad. Big thanks to Patrick for lending me the Bean Machine for the trip.
I had to come to Meadville to pick up my new (to me), blue and sporty truck! YAY! This meant that I had to turn in my NY state driver's license and "officially" move back into my parent's house in Meadville. Big thanks to Mary for registering the vehicle and staying open on a Saturday so I could get the truck! I LOVED her office, above the door on the way out there was an overhang. Instead of doing the usual "watch your head" she wrote in black marker "OUCH!!!!" I loved that. Simple.
We went to Dick Allen's Auto and there in the parking lot was my new ride! I took one look at her and knew she was the one to get me cross country and into the big, blue ocean! I promptly named her SMURFETTE. I don't know where you come from, but where I come from, we name our vehicles.
Check Smurfette OUT!
Big thanks to my Dad, Rich, for finding the truck! I know my eyes are shut in this picture, but he deserves a big THANK YOU!
When I am 90 and someone asks me about the greatest loves of my life, New York will be one of them. But, there are some things about every great lover that make you want to stab yourself in the eye. And New York, for me, has quite a few of them.
So, because leaving New York is so hard, I have started taking videos of the things that drive me absolutely crazy (imagine if you had videos like these of your past loves! hell, maybe you do).
Below is a very typical sight/sound/sensory overload experience that makes me want to sprint out of the subway and run straight into the woods and live off moss sandwiches forever.
I am also going to be chronicling the reasons why I AM moving to California. In this video installment, I had found the Meditation Gardens at the Self Realization Fellowship, wandered around a bit and found myself as close to meditating as I have ever come...
It's been 7+ long, fun, crazy, sweet, hard, tragic, silly, dreamy, hysterical, intense, loud, quiet, tough, challenging, eye-opening and amazing years. I came to New York a hick from Meadville and I'm leaving a hick from Meadville with better shoes. Deciding to leave New York has been one of the most heart-wrenching decisions that I have ever made, but this girl needs to get back to the basics. So, on April 21st, I'm hopping in my newly purchased pick-up truck and driving into the sunset and cross-country with my dog, Dungee, as my co-pilot. We're heading to Encinitas, CA where the waves are plentiful and the locals talk about yogis like New Yorkers talk about the Yankees. I've got a lot to learn. :)
I'll be *ahem* blogging about it all, and posting my adventures here.
I'll route a goodbye party invite soon, so get ready to drag your ass to BROOKLYN!
Thanks to everyone for making my time here so special and as soon as I find a place to live, you are welcome there anytime. Keep in touch or I'll kick your ass.
