Day 65: Around the World in 26 years...

I've lived away from home for 6 years.  Anyone that's lived away from home knows that "vacation days" aren't really "vacation days" anymore.  "Time off" turn into "time with family"...and before you know it your beloved two weeks of vacation converts itself into a week home for Christmas, your grandparent's 65th wedding anniversary, the birth of your second cousin's neighbor's child on your mom's side, or Lord knows what else.  When you add working weekends into the mix (ugh), it becomes time off for friends' weddings back home, concerts, birthday parties, or a night on the town.

In short -- 2 weeks of vacation isn't much of anything when you work weekends and live away from home.  I wish I had the opportunity to drive 45 minutes to see my parents "just because" so that I could spend my two weeks traveling the world...but alas...I can't...and I don't.

Or so I thought.

When I went to leave work the other day, I crossed paths with one of my co-workers.  I was headed out, she was headed in, and we got into a conversation about (what else?) but the massive amounts of beads I accumulated (and whether or not I had to show my boobs for them), when I said..."Yanno? I never took them out of the back of my car...come check it out."  So she did.  And as I pulled the bag open to show off my loot, she said...(something along the lines of...)
her: "I'm so jealous."
me: "Of the beads?"
her: "No, of your life."
me: "Huh?"
her: "Your life is so cool compared to mine.  I don't do anything."

Ok, so I'm not sure if those were her exact words or not...but pretty close ;) haha.  She went on to say that she just goes home to see her family, and hang out with her boy toy...but doesn't take trips.  Now, with the exception of this most recent trip...I really have no idea what she's talking about (ha!), or at least I didn't at the time.  But then on my way home...I got to thinking...even with my incredibly sucky, no chance for a social life work schedule...and my "out-of-towner" status...I've been blessed enough to travel...a lot.  I just got back from Mardi Gras, and in a little over a month, I'll be sunbathing on the beaches of Mexico (for the third time in three years! Woop! Woop!).  I've been to the Ukraine, France, Italy, England (for six hours), Mexico (6 times), Canada (but that really doesn't count when you're from Michigan, eh?), the Bahamas...and a handful of random states (hmmm....California, Montana, South Dakota, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Michigan, West Virginia, Virginia, Tennessee, Louisiana, and Florida...I think that's it).

So, maybe I haven't done all the traveling I'd like to do.  I haven't exactly traveled around the world in my lifetime...but I'm off to a good start...and that's good enough for me :)

And besides...Cabo is in a month...and I'm thankful for that :)

Day 64: Fallin' for 'Nawlins ya'll :)

Ok - time to hustle and get these things done...I'm way behind.  ::Ahem:: Here goes...

There are four months a year that TV people can't take time off - February, May, July and November.  Those are our rating periods, so we need all hands on deck.  In other words, that's when they send out diaries to random households so that they can write down what shows they watch.  That determines how much they're watching us over the other guys, and thus, our rating, and what we're able to charge for advertising, and of course...the all-important bragging rights.

Mardi Gras has fallen during our February Sweeps period for as long as I can remember.  That is...until this year.  The decision was easy.  I was single.  I finally felt liberated from a very unhealthy relationship.  And I wanted to take my life back.  What better place to go than Mardi Gras?  Ha. It's kind of like the time I booked a trip to Cancun on a whim (after Feb. 11th) and came back with a belly piercing.  Not the smartest thing I've ever done...but I don't regret it.

I had the time of my life in New Orleans and I think it's safe to say that I'm not the only one who has that on their bucket list.  I may not have spent the night getting my drink on on Bourbon Street (seemed a little too much to me with a bum knee), but I did spend the afternoon there...

I got the opportunity to see more parades over the course of one weekend than I probably have in a lifetime...

I caught some amazing loot...
 

Shoot -- I even got to walk in a parade ;)

And, on a more morbid note, I spent an hour walking around a cemetery...drooling at the headstones.

I got to meet some amazing, new people :)

And reunite with an old best friend :)

And I'm thankful for that :)

Day 63: Da Plane Boss! Da Plane!

I'm thankful for Modern Travel.  I started day 63 in Minnesota...and, after making some pit stops in Wisconsin and Ohio, ended up in Louisiana.  New Orleans to be exact...or Nawlins ;)

Yes, flying is a pain.  It costs an arm and a leg, and you often spend more time in the actual airport than you do in the air (that's kind of a annoying)...and so too is the whole, take your shoes off, don't fly with an ounce of liquid, and, oh, please stand in this line of 10,000 people, and crying infants just to be barked at by some security officer who hates their job.  Did I mention I had to go through a body scanner?  All that for 2 layovers, and a pack of peanuts ;)

But my point is...it could be worse.  The airplane is second only to the rocket in terms of the fastest method of travel...so I'm all for all the hoops you have to jump through just to get on board.

Consider the alternatives.  We'll start modern...with...say, the car.  Have you SEEN gas prices lately?  The friend I went to New Orleans to visit -- well, her brother (and his friend) drove down to the Big Easy from Ohio.  Having driven from Montana to Michigan (twice), I can tell you how big of a pain in the ass driving across the country can be.  Literally, and figuratively.  I'll take my 345 mph plane over your 75ish mph automobile any day.

Then...there's the train, which has it's perks.  Much faster than the car, the high-speed rail can get up to 220 mph.  But high-speed rail lines are few and far between.  Most trains are rickety, slow and smell like urine.  I've traveled across two countries (not the U.S.) by train.  I was pretty certain I was going to die in the overnight train between Kiev and Lviv in the Ukraine (seriously people...slept with one eye open), and when I entered my little train room during my trip across France, I found a stowaway sound asleep in my bed.  He was scary. There weren't clean sheets.  It was kind of disturbing.  And if you're not in a bed, you're stuck sitting in a chair for hours on end, and that's really not all that much fun.

Planes and Automobiles kind of stole the thunder of rail transport, and water transport after WWII.  Don't get me started on water transport.  My mom's terrified of deep water.  I'm fine if I'm in a boat, unless you count that one time after high school when our cruise ship skirted the outside of a hurricane, and I was convinced my life may end while I was waiting in line at the buffet.  Not exactly the way I'd want to go.  Just sayin'

And then...the birth of human transportation...walking and/or swimming.  I can hardly walk from here to my mailbox with this gimp knee, so I can't even imagine walking across the country (though I wonder how long that would take...hmmm?) and swimming?  Unless it's in a pool with chlorine, it's not my bag.  I don't like the feeling of creepy crawly things on my skin.  That includes, all species of fish, seaweed, and all other amphibious life forms.  I wouldn't make it one day swimming across a major body of water.  Not unless I was in a full wet suit.

Then again, there's always animals (horses, oxen, etc.) that made travel more convenient many moons ago, but I can't really see myself riding into New Orleans on a milky white steed.  Could you imagine the saddle sores? (just sayin').

So...now that you've gotten my goofy commentary on the history of global travel...let me say this.

I'm thankful for the inventions of airplanes and their ability to bring us closer to the people we love.  I'm thankful that I'm financially stable enough to afford a weekend trip of indulgence (and beads) to a faraway land.  And I'm thankful that we're advanced enough in this country to have so many travel options.  My family members in the Ukraine never leave their village.  Everything they need is there.  They really have no reason to leave, and if they did, they don't have many options, but their own two feet.  I have one relative that owns a car.  He's a professor, so he's the wealthiest among my family there (hard to believe, isn't it?), but owning a car and being able to afford the gas to operate it, are two very different things.

We so often take for granted all the many blessings that are bestowed us, simply by virtue of the country we live in (grab your boots. This is getting deep).  The fact that we can hop in a car, or on a bike, or a motorcycle, or a skateboard.  The fact that we have roads (some better than others, and if you've driven in Minnesota or Michigan lately, you'll know exactly what I'm talking about)...but nonetheless, we have a road, and that's more than some countries are able to say.


I'm thankful that I'm not forced to walk miles and miles and miles balancing a basket on my head to get water, or berries...and that I can instead hop in my car, and make it to a corner store and back in five minutes.

And I'm thankful for the airplane -- because it brought me back into the arms of someone I loved on both legs of the trip.  And that's pretty special :)


Ok...I'll get off my soap box.  History lesson is over for today folks ;)

Now me and my mashed potato brains are on to Day 64...

Day 62: It's the Thought that Counts

Yes, I realize I'm about a week behind on this thing (Argh!).  In my defense, I was on vacation (that counts as an excuse, right?)  So...here goes...Better late than never.

Day 62.

Ugh...my brain feels like mashed potatoes, and thinking back to what I was thankful for last Thursday...is proving to be a little challenging ;)  Hmmmm.....(jeopardy music plays)...uh....Day 62...Hmmmm....

Gifts.  Bam! I'm thankful for gifts.  No...I'm not that shallow.  I'm not as thankful for the actual gift as I am for the thought behind it.  That's what warms my heart.  Knowing that for two seconds, the thought of me crossed someone else's mind.  The idea that for one second, there was nothing more important than that thought, and the ultimate decision that my smile was worth the price paid.  Does that sound arrogant? It's not supposed to.

Ha - Cut me some slack here people -- I'm sleepy...and my eyelids feel like they're weighed down by the Mardi Gras beads that draped my shoulders some 48 hours ago.  Hopefully, my wizardry of the written language will provide a slightly more profound (and slightly less shallow) explanation of my intentions (lots of big words for someone who's so sleepy).

Well, we can only hope.  Because hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul (good poem...well worth the read).  My, how easily I'm sidetracked.

::ahem:: Back to business.

I got two gifts on Thursday.  To say they illicited the same reaction would be a lie.  Those two gifts couldn't have been any further apart in value, or substance...but they both accomplished the same task...they made my heart smile.

That's a beautiful thing.

So what are these two gifts you ask?

Brace yourself.

A cookie and a diamond pendant.

I know...right?

To say that the cookie is of the same caliber as the diamond...trivializes the diamond.  To say that the diamond is the better present just because it's a diamond...cuts the cookie short.

Because fact of the matter is...for one brief second (or several, I'm sure...in the case of the jewelry) I was on someone's mind.  And that means something to me.  It warms my heart. It makes me smile.  And...well, makes me feel like I matter. Like I'm special.  Like I'm worth the five feet of space (or 5 feet, and 1 and three-quarters inches of space) that I take up.

The cookie was a gift from a co-worker, who wanted to wish me well as I got jammed inside Alice in Wonderland's Rabbit Hole, for a less-than-enjoyable MRI.  That gift-giver read my "Ode to Cookies" note, and figured supplying me with a cookie the size of my head (like the one I wrote about), would help take the edge off before a not-so-scary procedure with potentially-scary results.  It worked.  My face lit up.  Mission accomplished.

Later that night, a certain sweetie surprised me with a little beige box.  I didn't know what to expect...but knew that a box of about that size was more likely to be jewelry than a dozen dice in a gift box.  It took my breath away.  It's such an extravagant gift for such a short period of time...and it extended the perma-grin I've been enjoying, say...for the past month or so.  Because a diamond isn't just a diamond...it's a piece of his heart...and what more could a girl want?

Not a whole lot.

That's what.

Day 61: Sisterly Love

I should be packing.

I'm not.

In around 36 hours I'll be boarding a plane to New Orleans for the first time...to ring in Mardi Gras...with my less-than-cooperative left knee. And I have nothing packed.

I dragged the suitcase out of the balcony closet a good four hours ago.

And here I sit.

I've managed to watch ABC's Wednesday night comedy line-up...talk to a friend or two, surf facebook for way too long, impulsively buy a very expensive camera (still not sure if that was a good idea or not), get into a quarrel of sorts, and thus - here I sit. In a funk. On facebook. And jamming out to various power ballads (sorry neighbors...not my bed time yet).

All this - when I should be packing.

Well, now that it's clear that won't happen, I may as well make up for my sub-par thankfulness post yesterday (thanks for calling me out Porky.  I deserved it!).

I've written about everyone in my immediate family, except my sister.  And there's a reason for that...we're kind of like oil and vinegar (it's ok, she knows it's true too).  But not regular oil and vinegar...more like...the salad dressing you get at Buddy's Pizza on Northwestern Highway (come on Michiganders...help me out here).  We start divided...then every now and again we shake things up...become intertwined, and more like the "sisters" you'd expect, but gradually something happens and we drift apart...back to our separate oil and vinegar worlds.  Weird parallel? Yeah, kinda.  But I think it sums us up nicely.

It's not that we don't love each other...we most certainly do.

It's not that we don't care...again, we certainly do.

It's just that sometimes life intervenes, and history repeats itself.

It's funny, because they say that all little girls are "daddy's girls", and all sisters are supposed to get along, share clothes, do each other's hair and kiss and tell.  Well, we did get along (on occasion), I would try on her clothes (and shoes - I seemed to have a thing for her shoes) when she wasn't home (and didn't know about it), she helped shave my legs for the first time (when my brother refused to go to Middle School with me "looking like that"), so I guess that's technically "doing my hair" (hey...we never said it was location-specific), and we did kiss and tell (though she doesn't know it), because I knew where she kept her diary, and knew that it wasn't locked.  And once she knew that I knew, I knew where she kept the key (see? I was meant to be an investigative journalist).  We were four years apart.  She was a varsity athlete in every sport she tried her hand at, and I needed an inhaler to run around the track a time or two.  She had her pick of the boys (all of them...all the time), and I...uh...I didn't.  She had perfect teeth with only a retainer, and though I didn't share the head-gear misfortune that my cousin did, I did go through about 5 years of extensive orthodontics.  She liked science and math...I boycotted AP Bio when I found out you had to chop up a frog.  Ok, you catch the drift.

But today...we bridged that gap.  Today...we talked on the phone for a good hour, about everything from my jacked-up knee, to my nephew, to her work, to my work, to boys...or maybe just one in particular :)  There was even some...(wait for it) GOSSIP in there.  YOWZA!  And it wasn't painful, I wasn't eyeing up the clock, wasn't wishing I was talking to someone else...it just came (you ready for it?) naturally.   Shocking, isn't it?  And truth is? I loved it.  Every second of it.  It was refreshing and it just felt right, and that's exciting.

So, Stacy...let me just say this...and brace yourself, because lord knows when our little oil and vinegar shake-up will sift back into our own entities...

I love you.  I think you're beautiful, remarkably intelligent, artistic, a wonderful mother, and you have the biggest pair of cojones of any woman I've ever met.  You, my dear sister, have the backbone that I so often lack.  You stand up for yourself, make your opinion known, see what you want and go after it.  You never let anything stand in your way...of what you love, what you need, what you want, or what you deserve.  And that's admirable.

Just know that I love you...even when I don't say it.

And p.s. You're totally worth the extra half hour of procrastination (which is bound to turn into a little stress tomorrow when I realize "Crap! My suitcase is still empty!")

You're my sister.  A great sister...

And I'm thankful for that :)

Day 60: Drawing a Blank

I don't know what I'm thankful for today.

Sad...isn't it?

I've got more than 300 days to go...and here I sit, icing a leg I'd like to amputate, and away from the one I love, after a horrible day of work.

Some days don't have a silver lining.

Today seems like one of those days.

I'm drawing a blank, folks...

I'll try better tomorrow.

Day 59: Perception.Reality.Happiness

Life is all just an issue of perception.  Your reality isn't actually reality...but what you perceive it to be.  So if you change your perception of the situation, you change your reality...and therefore your feelings associated with said reality.  Wouldn't it be true then...that we're each the master of our own universe? and therefore our own happiness?  Ha...pretty deep for quarter to 11 on a Monday, eh? ;)

Here's my point.

I was driving downtown today...waiting at a stop light...watching people criss-cross the street.

That's when I spotted her.

A runner.

Damnit! I want to be running.  It was sunny, the sidewalks were clear (mostly) and my hair would have looked phenomenal flipping in the wind (haha!).  PLUS!  I bought a pair of Under Armour "Cold Gear" Running pants that I'm pretty much dying to whip out.  And just as I was lapsing into this beautiful day dream of my muscles rippling in the gentle sunlight...a sharp pain in my left knee brought me crashing back to reality.

Possible torn meniscus...patella tendinitis.  An MRI looms before me...along with the threat of surgery.  Somehow watching this blonde-haired bunny saunter down the street in a light jog, no longer seemed appealing.  I went into full out "sorry for myself" mode.  Ugh.  My knee hurts.  Even if I don't need surgery...the healing time will still be weeks...though the doc said I could still resume my marathon training and still be fine.  If I end up needing surgery, the doc says I'm out of the race.  So here I sit, at a stop light...in a hunky, uncomfortable brace...days before my very first trip to New Orleans, where I'm bound to wear (gasp!) shorts and dresses, and maybe even (dun, dun, dun) a bikini.  Who feels sexy in a bikini and a knee brace?  I mean...seriously.  You're killin' me knee.  Couldn't you have done this AFTER my vacation?  or just not at all?  That would be nice.

And then...the light turned green.  My eyes went from the runner on the right side of the road...to the man standing on the left side.  I didn't noticed anything different at first, but as I continued through the intersection, and got closer to him...I saw it.

He was missing a leg.

Perception.Reality.Happiness.

My perception was miserable...sorry for myself...and mopey.  And for a brief moment, that was my reality.  But this man crossing the street on crutches (which have become my nemesis in the past week), helped bring everything back into perspective.

It's kind of like my "mobility" post earlier in the week.  You don't really realize what you have until it's gone.  On the flip side...you don't really realize how lucky you are to have what you have, until you meet someone that doesn't have it.

Yes, my knee cap may have delivered some of the most excruciating pain I've ever experienced in the past few days...but at least I have a knee cap.

Yes, my hands may be bruised from the crutches, and I may have had a few close calls with death because of them, but unlike the guy on the corner, I won't have to use them forever.

And yes, I may jokingly worry about my sex appeal in NOLA with a knee brace on, but I can take that off when I'm pool side.  There's not much you can do to stop people from staring/gawking when you don't have a leg.

Perception.Reality.Happiness.

A man on a street corner had a profound impact on all three of those today.

And I'm thankful for that :)