travel

October 25, 2022

Tell Me More About Me

Ever since Orlando we have been on the road home. We had intended to have a longer stop there, so I could go to the Magic Kingdom, but we cut it short so we could meet my in-laws in New Orleans. Unfortunately their flight was cancelled and they never made it. (Bummer.) We would have had a lot of fun. I love my in-laws.

So with an extra day in New Orleans we were left with a lot of time to fill. All of which was spent in the French quarter.

While parts of it are derelict and ugly, it still maintained this beauty that I cannot quite explain. Aside from the smell on Bourbon Street. It was pungently sour and I could not place it.

“That’s vomit,” my brother-husband informed me with a confidence I could not argue with.

And seeing as how we were on Bourbon Street, that tracked.

All of our trips are pretty much dictated by food. As I’ve gotten older I’ve deviated from the husband to be more of a sites and experience guy. I think because I pack on weight like I’m heading into the harshest winter in existence and food will be scarce.

My husband was adamant on trying gumbo, jambalaya and even a po’boy. But once the two boys learned it was seafood they were out. They don’t eat anything that comes from the ocean. I’m okay with it when it’s battered and deep fried.

Lacking any real direction we wandered the quarter and then did a walking ghost tour with this adorable guide who made me smile every time she did her “fuuuuuuuuun fact!” She lunged foreword on one foot and did excited jazz hands, jangling her jumble of steel bracelets.

The other thing we did was visit the shop if the famous voodoo queen, Marie Laveau. It was quite the tourist stop. There were all sorts of magical things, rocks, potions, candles, alligator feet. As we were waiting for the brother-husband to find a voodoo doll to get his step mom, my husband turns to me and says “let’s get a psychic reading!”

This is not anything my husband has ever wanted to do. However being in the shop his enthusiasm was understood.

So, since I didn’t get the psychic reading I had wanted to do in Salem, I thought here would be even better.

“Yeah? Let’s do it.”

The gentleman was meek, small framed with blonde hair. He had on a tight black shirt that went to his mid thigh with woven fabric on the sleeves. He was definitely playing the part of a mystic. It was fun. He took us through a door with a combo handle to a tiny little wood cubicle. In it was a small table and two chairs. My husband could barely fit into it with his power chair but we made it work.

He took my hand and started.

“So, the diabetes skipped your generation.” It was both a question and a statement.

“Yeah,” I said. I was shocked because if that was a guess it was a good one.

“And you had a lot of ear infections as a kid, those are all better?”

“Yeah.”

He proceeded to tell me everything about me. Later, when I asked my husband about the reading he said, “he had you pegged perfectly.”

And he did. I just didn’t know if it was my own interpretation of the moment or real. Getting his confirmation made me feel better.

He proceeded to tell me many different random facts that had no correlation. It was almost as if he was skimming the page of my life and retelling me in this sort of stream of consciousness.

I would never leave California. I’d travel a lot but never leave. I’d have a son; and a daughter. Both adopted. And that I would start school again in the spring.

That one was weird cause I’m like… I don’t see that happening. However… since then it has become very clear that if I want to move into a better role at work I have to go back to school. My husband said the psychic, Phillip, said I’d be going back to study math.

I don’t remember the specifics of how it came up but I told him I was married and he looked genuinely perplexed.

“Do you have someone on the side?” He says point blank.

I bark a laugh, give this wry smile, and say “yeah. You could say that.”

I proceed to tell him the dynamics of my and my husbands relationship.

For whatever reason he did not pick up that I was referring to Charlie.

“You will never get divorced.” He said matter-of-factly. “And your boyfriend isn’t going anywhere.”

(My husband said that Phillip stated that “he wouldn’t go anywhere until I got bored with him” and I genuinely don’t remember that.)

He stops my reading there and reaches out and lays a hand on my husbands knee. He proceeds to tell him that he’s not leaving the chair. (“Duh,” I thought. By the way, we did not give him details of my husbands diagnosis.) He said that there were many doctors appointments for my husband in the future. And that he was going to start an experimental treatment that was going to improve it. Which… is a stretch.

The number one thing that stood out to me about his reading was that he told my husband he wasn’t going to die any time soon.

Some highlights that tickled me, were when he said that my mother would never remarry and was content in her small space. He was right but not in the context he was telling me this information.

When I told my in-laws about this they were convinced he looked up my social media. And he may have, but the fact that it took him a concerning amount of time to comprehend that charlie was my husband was odd. I made multiple references to him as my husband. He eventually picked it up but… it was strange. The other thing is the details he told me, his good guesses, is not info I have EVER or would EVER share here. I mean, I have now in the context of this retelling, but at no point have I shared the medical facts he told me.

We were both thoroughly pleased with it. Absolutely worth the price. If you ever find yourself in the French Quarter, get a psychic reading from Phillip.

I would like to add that I am someone who does believe this stuff. There are things in this world no one can explain. And rather than attribute it to some higher being I give the credit to the immense power of the universe. Some may also call that god, but I do not. And I don’t think psychics can tell the future. I think they’re more interpreters of energy. I think Philip just read what he felt from our interaction.

October 14, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 35 – Boston

And here we are again, with a locational song to bookend our trip to the city of the same name. Boston has been a wonderful city. Absolutely gorgeous. Even the dump parts of it were enchanting. I would live here in a heartbeat. Well… almost. I can’t handle the lack of street lights on the highway or the the lack of lane markers or, worst yet, the fact that off-ramps just happen with no real warning. Other than those, gorgeous town.

The whole point of our road trip was to make it here, which is why I set aside a week. The hubby and I have never been and have always wanted to. He had thoroughly enjoyed it. He just wishes we had designated the whole month here instead of 5 days. And he’s not wrong.

During our time here we’ve also gone to P-town and Salem. I thought Provincetown was going to be a short day but it turned out to be fun filled. And I already can’t wait to go back.

Today we set off for Philadelphia where the Bf will be flying in to meet us for the weekend. Can’t wait to have all my boys together again.

Now to the song…

The first time I had ever heard this was on the pandora station I would play at my desk, while in the employ of my previous employer. It was the only perk of working there, getting to have my music. Other than that… it was the worst experience of my life.

It’s funny, because while I was there I didn’t see how much it was killing me. I had just come to accept it. Never once did I question my mental health and self worth. Both of which my coworkers attempted to destroy.

I applied for this job and got into it by accident. I just wanted an office job. I was burnt out on retail. I couldn’t handle working holidays anymore. So I answered an ad and it turned out to be for an office assistant for a real estate appraiser. When I told my husband he was so jealous. He had always wanted to get into that line of work.

They initially liked me and hired me right away.

The man who trained me became a really good friend. I enjoyed his company. He was training to be an appraiser and I was meant to be his replacement. He went out on odd jobs here and there and worked overtime for the boss. The way the main appraiser and his assistant spoke to him was atrocious. They genuinely talked to him as if he had three brain cells. And he was very intelligent. (He’s currently a history teacher, which definitely suits him moreso than appraisals.)

I remember one time asking him, after this one woman had said something utterly despicable to him, “why do you put up with the way they speak to you?” He just shrugged a shoulder and turned back to his computer screen.

Years later, I was him. They ended up treating me the same exact way. It wasn’t until I left to work with my current employer did I realize how much of my sense of self that job drained from me. Away from it I lost a ton of weight and have loads more confidence in my ability to do anything.

It’s incredible.

All this song makes me think about is that cubicle, those horrible people… and how a change of scenery put me on the path to be who I was meant to become. If I had stayed there… I wouldn’t be in Boston right now. I wouldn’t have had the funds or the time to invest in my husbands final days.

I also like how in the song she went from California to Boston. Like me. And the cities are truly different sides of the same coin. And while I am a Californian through and through the call to this historic place is very real.

September 19, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 30 – Heads Carolina, Tails California

Country music will always have my heart. It was the first “non-child,” secular music I first encountered and I fell in love with it the moment I heard that steel guitar. (Still one of my favorite sounds.) It’s funny, because neither of my parents were fans of “western” (what they called it) music. My dad was 60’s and 70’s pop rock and my mom wasn’t one to listen to the radio. Apart from them meeting for the first time in a country-western bar they didn’t have any attachment to the genre.

My father would wonder “Where did you get this love from?” He didn’t remember having set the station on my brand new radio to KFRG, before going outside to work in the yard. It was the first radio station it had been set to and it never strayed from it until we moved.

A lot of my birthday gifts were music related. The following year my parents gifted me a walk-man and two cassette tapes: Billy Ray Cyrus (for of course “Achey Breaky Heart”) and Alan Jackson. Apart from that one song I did not enjoy Billy Ray. I was, however, in love with Alan Jackson. I wrote that tape out. That man had the hits!

For my 11th birthday my parents bought me my first CD player stereo. Accompanying it were two discs by Tim McGraw and Jo Dee Messina.

“Heads Carolina, Tails California” was my favorite at the time. There was one moment when I had been listening to the radio at midnight, bedroom window open, and when this tune came on I started singing. A little too loud it would seem, I thought I was being quiet, but both my parents and the neighbors woke up very, very irritated.

I love the idea of the song: getting away, leaving everything up to chance. Maybe then they could outrun their bad luck with the spontaneity of their decision. It spoke to me at 11. I wasn’t happy living in Bakersfield. I felt so out of place. I never fit in. Most of the kids I started going to school with had been friends since kindergarten and here I was this chubby, quirky kid who used to be the smartest one in the class at his old school.

Most of all though, the idea of aimlessly traveling touched a deep nerve.

I have always loved road trips. I got to listen to music, play video games, and watch the landscape change around me. My family’s habit was getting up at the crack of dawn, grab some McDonald’s, and hit the road. That way it gave us more evening time at our end destination.

My husband is not like that at all. He wants to wake up at a “reasonable” hour (aka 11) and lackadaisically pack the car and head out. Any sense of urgency does not exist in his frame. And that BUGS!

Regardless, we have made our two very different ways of doing things work. Primarily I have just given in because fighting him on it is impossible. He will control the situation no matter what I try to do. Even now, where the brother-husband and I have to do everything, this bitch will find a way to make sure we leave on his schedule. It’s truly remarkable.

This October the three of us will be embarking on a road trip to Boston, looping down to Orlando and then on to Vegas for the MTG 30 event. We will make an overnight stop in North Carolina to visit an old friend and a sort-a-kinda-cousin. (Hard to explain.)

It was intended to be a trip for just the two of us, to give the B-H a break from me and Charlie. However, when the husband brought it up that he requires a lot of help and attention he suggested it would be a good idea if he came along. And he isn’t wrong. The vast majority of the trip would be spent on his general care. We are at the point now where there is nothing he can do without assistance.

I am really looking forward to our trip. The open road calls to me. It’s just a bummer we have to have a schedule and not let our own whims and sense of adventure dictate the route. I guess I’ll leave that to the fantasy of the song.

June 17, 2022

The Soundtrack of My Life – 24 – Mad Season

Here I am again with an entire album. I couldn’t help myself. This is one of the few that I couldn’t pick a single song from if you held a gun to my head. Every track is pure perfection, and far surpassed their first album. At least, to me. And that’s saying something since I was (still) absolutely in love with their first release.

For the longest time, I was blissfully naïve. I thought everyone loved Matchbox Twenty. It wasn’t until I worked at Border’s that upon merely mentioning their name everyone in my vicinity rolled their eyes. (It’s not like I said Nickelback.) I find this kind of behavior super fucking pretentious. The notion that one set of musicians is better than another because they’re not as “commercial” or that they hadn’t “sold their soul to music executives” is exhausting. Here is where I roll my eyes. Just because the band hasn’t been discovered doesn’t mean 1) that they’re even good or 2) that they’re better. It just means there wasn’t a mass appeal for them as there was for another.

Anyway! I’m getting entirely off-track.

The reason I chose this album is because this, along with their first, makes me think of summer time. It brings to mind the excitement and energy of travelling. Every time I listen I’m back in the rear seat of my parents car, headphones on, playing Pokémon on my gold GameBoy pocket. This one in particular recalls the summer right after my 8th grade graduation when my parents took me and a close family friend, Nycole, on a road trip to Canada. This album was what drowned out the sound of the constant bickering between my Aunt and Uncle, who had joined us mid-way through and hijacked our trip.

The trip up to the point, after we realized they had joined us for the remainder of it, was super fun.

While Nycole isn’t a blood relative she feels like a cousin. Even now I will call her that, with no relation between the two of us. She’s transcended normal friendship, primarily because we’ve been friends since we were itty-bitty babies.

I’m not going to lie to you, dear reader. The whole reason my parents planned this trip to Canada was so that I could 1) have my first taste of a “foreign” country and 2) so that I could purchase a plethora of Beanie Babies with Canadian tush tags. At the peak of the Beanie Baby craze, the more sought after plushes were those with this specific piece of legal type. Dumb, I know. Even as I wrote this I saw my dad shaking his head at the explanation. I didn’t choose the beanie life, it chose me.

However, because of my Aunt and Uncle, my time in the Great White North was limited to only a few hours. This was due to them having decided they were going to drive everywhere in their extended cab, diesel truck. It was here that I learned to NEVER AGREE TO TRAVELLING WITH ANOTHER FAMILY. EVER. I refuse to relinquish my ability to be able to do what I want, when I want. If I don’t have an escape route available, I will not take the chance.

By the time we had made it to our neighbor’s to the north, my parents had had enough of them, and so had Nycole and I. Looking back, they’re addition truly soured the entire trip. It went from the freedom to discuss what we wanted to do to: this is what we’re gonna fucking do whether you want to or not. It sucked.

It was on this trip that we were forced to spend an entire day taking a ferry over to Victoria Island so we could go to Butchart Gardens. (Fun fact I dated a dude who’s family had owned it!) I tried to buy Beanie Babies there, but I found none and wasn’t even given the chance to really look because my Aunt and Uncle INSISTED on using public transportation. Now their forced schedule was even more rigid to this.

Once we were free of them, the dark cloud that had built over my family lifted. I mean… it truly was night and day. These people were super toxic. And we had no idea until it was too late. Afterwards my parents knew their limitations and limited the time they spent around them to a minimum.

My dad repeatedly apologized for having said anything to them. He took the blame for having our trip turn into the vacation from hell. Even though it really wasn’t that bad, looking back. It was just them. They were such negative, miserable people.

That was the last big vacation my family ever took. From then on it was just weekend trips to somewhere within close proximity to where we lived, and far enough away that family couldn’t invite themselves.

With the exception of (half of) this adventure, I’ve loved road trips since I was a kid. I know most don’t because they’re trapped in a single place for copious amounts of time, and kids like to run. But I was a sedentary child. Proven by being overweight for the majority of my youth. My idea of fun was having my headphones on, staring out at the passing scenery. My mind would wander from one story idea to another, or I would just relax with the quiet from my constant buzzing thoughts.

Today the polycule and I leave for our own road trip. We’re going to be travelling up to South Dakota and then back down to Denver to see Chris Stapleton. (I got tickets for the hub’s birthday.) He actually just performed here in town last night, but when I went to purchase entry there were no handicap seats available. At all. So, I thought why not make a whole thing out of this and pick somewhere far away.

I just wonder what song or album will define this trip?