Swagger Wagon: Trek Across America

My Thursday client is in the Hamptons. This makes me laugh. Most things do these days...but seriously. I don't think it will ever seem normal to me to just run off to my house in the Hamptons on a whim. I don't think I will ever have a house in the Hamptons. And if I do, holy batman, I guess I will have made it.

When I was a kid our vacations were planned 'meticulously'...we'd all pile in the brown '87 Toyota van (nicknamed Freckles by my brother because of the thousands of tiny rust spots on the front hood). Freckles, who's sliding door literally fell off one day...who's ceiling upholstery was coming undone, a situation only further exacerbated by my boredom during roadtrips...and who's door latch would periodically make it impossible to get in our out (I'm noticing a 'trapped inside' theme as of late. Anyone wanna analyze this?).

We'd load in and shove off, the back of the van full past the point of 'safe rear viewing' with coolers, the family tent (also brown...later replaced with a teal version), sleeping bags and clothes. Daniel and I would read, fight and sing. We replaced the words in Frere Jacques to go something like this:

"Are we there yet, are we there yet?
She bit meeee, she bit meeee
I hafta go to the bathroom, I hafta go to the bathroom
He bit meeee, he bit meeeee"

In typing that out and replaying it in my head (I can still hear our shrill, drawn out voices. Top of our lungs to boot.) it's a wonder Daniel and I are still alive. If I were the driver, I would have pulled over, demanded the singers put their palms on the hood of the van and run over the two of us. Fast. I guess that's why I'm not a mom....

We never went to the Hamptons. Instead we explored the West Coast and southwestern US. We went to various National Parks, camped and got learned.

At the age of 8 I was awarded a Junior Park Ranger Badge at Chaco Canyon for my groundbreaking exploration into rock formations, plants and creatures indigenous to the area. I was so proud of myself and wore my badge for the rest of the week. It was also in Chaco Canyon that Daniel nearly died. I slept through the entire incident. I am such a good sister.

Mesa Verde was another stop...to this day if you take my to ruins and set me free I will be as happy as a tick on a fat dog (so gross, had to be used). Cliff dwellings are my favorite. Daniel and I were fully occupied scouring any and all rock surfaces for pictographs, and then excitedly deciphering them for my mom and dad.

Scariest family roadtrip excursion: Valentine Cave in Newell, CA. I'd been to other caves during that trip, but for whatever reason, this one terrified me. I should really go back and do this one again.

The last roadtrip we took as a family (though my mom flew ahead...3 out of 4 still counts, right?) was from Seattle, WA to Nashville, TN the summer between my 7th and 8th grade years in school. My dad tried his best to make moving cross country with two birds and half your belongings in the back seat (by now we'd graduated to a 99 Toyota Sienna) fun by recreating the trips of years past. The only thing I remember is the women at one motel along the way that sang to our birds and refusing to stop crying for about four days. Man being 13 sucks. For everyone.

I think when I started out this post I was going to write something about this random day off being odd and productive. Who cares. Reminiscing about my family and our crazy trips was way more fun. I miss you family! And now I wanna hop a train, go upstate and go outside.

Trapped in the [water] Closet

You know how sometimes at work you find the only time you can SIT DOWN and take a personal moment is if you escape to the bathroom? Yeah. I'm not gonna lie...if I have to pee, I take my phone and I'll check my texts and my email after I wash my hands. Which still makes it just a 3 minute hiatus. You go in, lock the door, do your business, leave. No questions. No issues.

Until recently.

A week ago, after downing my four glasses of water in the morning (four before noon is the rule) I needed to use the facilities. When I tried to leave, the door wouldn't budge. Maybe, I thought, I didn't actually lock it...I had to go BAD and was in a bit of a hurry. Flipping the lock yielded no success. Maybe I'm not twisting the knob enough? No. I began knocking on the door...which felt very peculiar...the knocking to get out part. Knocking turns to banging and yelling.

*The absolute worst part of this entire story is that I can hear all my lovely coworkers talking and laughing and working on the other side of the door. And they can't hear me.*

I think I was in there about 10 minutes before I decided the situation was dire enough to warrant a panicked phonecall from THE INSIDE. As I reached for my phone, with one sweaty palm, I reached for the doorknob with the other, one more try can't hurt, I'm thinking, desperately.

Lo and behold the damn thing popped open. Wide eyed I ventured back into the living world. As a result of this mishap I now announce my restroom visits to all my coworkers. I notify at least two members of the staff that I will be using the loo and if I'm not out in less than ten minutes, by all means PLEASE COME RESCUE ME.

Side note: the lockage fear has expanded to include the walk-in freezer. I swear to the powers that be if I get locked in there I am going to need therapy. If I don't freeze to death first.

Just Text PSYCHIC to 88376 for Your Personalized Reading.

Alright. I've been read. You know how you always walk past the Psychic Advisor window fronts, complete with crystals laying across some mystical swath of velvety looking tapestry nonsense (...the neon glow advertising PSYCHIC READINGS is what always gets me) and you scoff about the people who actually waste money in there, but secretly you're wondering what you'd find out if you dared to enter? Well. Today the psychic came to moi.

Work was slow this evening. Really slow. Painfully slow. All of a sudden this lady walks in...I greeted her, served her, made change for her and all of a sudden she bursts out with this gem:

"You have some really intense energy. Can I do a reading?"

Uuhhhh...why not? I explain to her that I can't actually leave the counter. This is a half lie...but I don't want to venture into the dining room and sit down with her right now. I want to guard my tips and stand behind my sweet sweet register that screams at me all day for INVALID SEQUENCE INPUT (what does that even mean?!).

I'm holding out my palms...she traces a sweeping arc from one hand to the other.

Verdict: My life line is very long. I'm going to live to a very old age. I'll die not of disease, but of natural causes.

Thoughts (internal of course): Sweet success body! Nevermind the fact that you've been rejecting yourself, destroying yourself and causing all manner of medical conundrums for the past 23 YEARS...we're gonna make it! Go team! We are going to LIVE!

Next she looks me directly in the eyes. "You have a smile on your face, but not in your heart."

GULP.

Thoughts: She sees right through me. She knows I think this is all a load of...hooey. She thinks this smile is totally fake. Really I'm just having a good day and I'm amused by the thought that I won't die of disease, and instead, of old age.

She goes on-"You have a deep sorrow. You spend all your time taking care of others and you don't want anyone to know when you're hurting inside. You often feel there's no one to help take care of you."

Thoughts: These are gonna stay between me, God and the psychic, thankyouverymuch.

"Relationship-wise, you care about someone very deeply. But there's more sorrow here. There's something wrong, something's not right. He's treating you badly."

Thoughts: Initial-Which person are we talking about here? Secondary-ACCURATE WITH A CAPITAL 'A'. Story of my dating life. Thank God I'm not the only one who's noticing this. For all the incredible guys I've dated out there that may be reading, I do appreciate you...and I'd also like to add that in telling my mother of this encounter she made sure to play devils advocate and bring up the fact that I'm apparently 'mean' to the boys who love me. I'm sorry.

Travel: Apparently, I am a free spirit (who woulda thunk it!?) and while I haven't had the opportunity to travel internationally much yet, I will be doing so a LOT in the future.

Thoughts: Awesome. No sarcasm here. Just pure, unadulterated awesome.

And finally...according to my psychic customer, I am about to go through some changes of EPIC PROPORTION.

Thoughts: Please let it be my big girl job. Please let it be my big girl job. Please let it be my big girl job!!!!


Final verdict: My reading was informative, amusing and totally vague. I'm so glad it happened. On a slow day at work. For free.

The Walnut

I think it's time I wrote about (dun dun duuuuun), The Walnut. My place of residence for the past year. It's small, its haphazardly wired and the only reason I have any faith in sound structure is because my super lives below me. I was in Kansas City this past weekend and the hotel bathroom was as big as...wait for it, wait for it...my bathroom, kitchen and living room combined.

Some fun facts/nuances of the space/things to know:

*My upstairs neighbor blasts techno OR Creedence every evening starting at 6pm. Like clockwork. He also has a penchant for moving and dropping heavy objects round the clock. It's a wonder the ceiling hasn't caved in yet.

*When you turn on the stove, stand back! This isn't a 'if-you-happen-to-remember' warning...this is an 'if-you-don't-the-flame-will-find-you-and-make-you-it's-bitch' warning. Thoughts: this cannot be safe.

*When you use the fun-sized oven, A) remember to empty it of the contents you're storing in there...B) pop a percocet and chug a bottle of wine, because being unconscious is pretty much the only thing that will even BEGIN to alleviate your (legit) fear the apartment is going to blow up during baking.

*The faucet in the shower is backwards (the initial 'on' yields water that yields a third degree burn). It also feels like it's going to fall off one day. That will be a sad day.

*Sometimes if you close your eyes and imagine really hard, the sound of pigeons cooing in the back alley can actually sound like owls...or some other less foul thing from nature.

*There is an opera/Broadway hopeful somewhere across the back alley. Rehearsal time is ALL the time. He's also been working on the same song in excess of 8 months. Quite possibly the same verse of the same song...

*The super is trying to kill us all. By cranking up the heat. Suffocation isn't a joke, it's a scarily real possibility. (Oh, and on a more 'New York' note...don't touch that heating pole. The warning your friends gave wasn't a joke, nor was it a dare, it was dead serious).

*Someone hid a few bricks of cocaine underneath the cabinet under the sink. Or at least, that's what it smells like. Know how you'll know when I've located them? I won't live here anymore.


And now for my personal fav:

*If you use the automatic lock 'function' on the front door, don't expect to have an easy time getting OUT of the apartment next time you try. You will be locked in. And the super won't pick up his phone to help you. You will have to use a pizza cutter to jimmy yourself out and it will take at least 30-45 minutes.

I love New York. Seriously.