Oh the Places I’ll Go

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get better. It's not." ~ The Lorax by Dr. Seuss.

Tonight I have an excess of energy running through my brain and spirit that’s been stimulated by an Excedrin and an ego-boosting day. So, if this I ramble on or am more random than usual consider this the fine print.

Over winter break I was fortunate enough (with my family) to make a two-night stopover in Chicago to visit and stay with a cousin of mine. Part of the visit consisted of enjoying the Lincoln Park Zoo’s lights not only from the ground but from her extraordinary view 19 floors up.  

The second part of the visit was spent at the Museum of Science and Industry in anticipation of experiencing a Dr. Seuss exhibit. I have been a Dr. Seuss fan for as long as I can remember. My favorite book as a child was “Are You My Mother” by P.D. Eastman. Now I realize this was not a Dr. Seuss book, but it was stamped with his approval with a picture of the Cat in the Hat on the spine. Unfortunately, photos were not permitted within the exhibit and if I was childless I would have spent more time reading, but it made me fall in love with his work all over again. Two things I learned was that Seuss was his middle name and his favorite book that he wrote was The Lorax, written one year after the first Earth Day. 

After getting my master’s in school counseling last December and completing the licensing process I was “hired” a.k.a. put on “the list” as a substitute in the school district in which I live. Because of restrictions/family dynamics and mostly child care challenges I wasn’t sure what being on “the list” would develop into. Over the past few months I have had to turn down any and all subbing jobs that have come my way because of the short notice of the jobs. Yesterday all the pieces fit into place and today I subbed for the school counselor at my son’s elementary school. I could ramble on and on about what a positive, energizing, fulfilling experience it was, but instead I will focus on the feeling that right now I am where I belong. I haven’t been in a school in the role of a school counselor (intern) since last June which has left enough time for me to muster over if getting my master’s was the right choice for me or not. Today I was reminded firsthand for eight hours that this is what I was meant to do at this point in my life. I ate up not only the love and respect I received from students today, but also the feeling that as Dr. Seuss wrote, I care an awful lot and am doing something about it. 

Today was as close to a perfect day as I’ve had in a long time. I felt the love and support from my kids and husband so intensely, and I have a feeling of accomplishment and of having done good by and for children today. As if that wasn’t enough I had a perfect dinner with some wonderful girlfriends. We tried a new restaurant where the food was great, conversations were honest and filled with support and laughs, and we lingered for hours knowing we should end the night and get home, yet not wanting to leave the warmth of each other’s company.

If today is any indication of the year ahead I’m ready 2012, keep it comin’!!

“A child’s life is like a piece of paper on which every person leaves a mark.” ~ Chinese proverb

Every Race has a Story Part IVb: July: New Milford (CT) Village Fair Days 5K

After running the Bellin, my husband and I talked about how great it was to run in a new and different town. We had a 2 ½ week road trip planned for the end of July to visit our families back East. We agreed it would be great if we could find a race near one of our parents’ houses. I quickly discovered New Milford Village Fair Days 5K (and 8-mile, but we weren’t doing that!). I never ran when I lived in CT and this race was in a town I was familiar which excited me. I loved the idea of running in CT, my childhood state. I also began wishing we had started this “tradition” of running while visiting family earlier in life. We had someone to stay and cheer with the kids and running is a great release for stress that inevitably builds up during family visits.

I registered for the race and it quickly became part of the cover plan for my Dad’s surprise party for later that day as well. It was how I would keep track of him for the morning and make sure he was where he was suppose to be at noon. This minor detail may have in fact help me run a little faster.

There was no informative website surrounding this race, I had no clue what the course was like. I only knew that Connecticut is hilly, so I began mentally preparing myself for something worse than the American Cancer Society race I had run in 2010. During the race someone asked me, “Do we turn on blah blah street” I didn’t know the answer but a fellow runner answered, “Yes.” As soon as I turned on blah blah street I knew the missing detail of the answer. This street was not just a hill, but a looong, gradual hill. Thankfully when I think of Connecticut I also think of trees and there was shade on the uphill.

Some races have misters, not like mistresses, but like water, that you run through. This race had runners finishing under a hose power shower, it was great. Along with the typical bananas and oranges there were also popsicles…amazingly perfect!

After the race I was talking with a man who shared with me that the 5K was harder than the first 6 miles of the 8 mile! Something to think about in the future. I did also learn that the 8 mile is the third oldest running race in CT.

Every Race has a Story Part III: June: Bellin Run 10K

A good friend of my husband and I has been asking us for years to run the Bellin 10K in Green Bay, his hometown, with him. The idea of a 10K has always been intimidating to me. With that said I did run the Bolder Boulder 10K in CO in 2008 and it remains to be my favorite race to date.

Well, this was the year we were going to do “The Bellin” because not only could it be my June race; it was a weekend away complete with friends to stay with our kids and cheer us on as we ran.

The spectators were amazing, I believe that’s who really makes a race. This was certainly the case with the Bolder Boulder.

One of my favorite things about this race was being able to take my race number after the race to the nursery that was on the race course and pick out two annual plants for FREE! I have really enjoyed watching them grow over the summer. Also, because it was the 35^th anniversary every runner received a finisher’s medal. My least favorite thing was that my shirt that I worked hard to earn, had a hole in the seam. Then after sewing it, two weeks ago it got stained in the wash! I really like the shirt too!

The weekend was capped off by going to Bay Beach, where all the rides at the amusement park are either 0.25 or 0.50 cents and then off to tour Lambeau Field…impressive!

I plan to run this race again next year!

My Hometown

Definition of hometown: “the town where one was born or grew up, or the town of one’s present fixed residence.”

I’ve been away from home for 11 days on a road trip that spans a number of states. I am currently in my hometown, I think. See, I have lived in WI for 11 ½ years now in the same town. My husband says we can just round up, which I suppose is true since we don’t plan on moving before January. OK, with that let me start over. I’ve lived in one town in WI for 12 years. This is the longest I’ve lived in one town in my life. It’s also the town I consider to be home. I often wonder if this is because of the stage of life I am in. I am involved in the community, which makes it easier for me to feel a part of the community rather than apart from it. My kids were both born here and it’s their hometown so maybe that also has something to do with it.

** Tangent ** about the towns I’ve lived in, in my life. Born in New York. A few months shy of my 2^nd birthday I moved to CT. Ten years later I moved one town away, but it felt more like a different state. Nearly six years later I moved to Alabama for college. I spent one summer back in CT, but I always think back on my six years in AL and begin counting from my first year of college. By the time my high school graduation came around I had already mentally checked out of CT. After AL, came WI. 

So, here I am back in CT. A state that feels foreign to me.

I had a bizarre experience the other day when I took my family to Mystic Aquarium. I know I’ve been there before, in fact I recall being there with my husband and son 5 or 6 years ago…I think. Even with that aside I went with my mom years ago (code for I have no idea how far back). Nothing about the drive, the entrance to the aquarium or the aquarium itself looked familiar. For all I know I was at an aquarium in Rhode Island the other day. The entire visit I was consumed with the thought that I was in a sci-fi movie where my memory was erased and replaced with a microchip that was wearing off. I enjoyed watching my kids have fun and enjoyed moments, but the bizarreness of the whole thing was reignited in every area of the aquarium.

Growing up in CT meant traveling to NY to visit family and as I got older, to go out dancing. In NY you only had to be 18 to get into clubs, in CT the age was 21. I have few memories of “exploring” CT as a kid. There are, however, two things that ignite “hometown” feelings. One is something I’ve mentioned before; food! The other came to me while driving across New York State a few days ago. I love the rocks. I see them as slate, which reminds me of the foyer in my first CT house. It’s hard, dark, granite type rock crumbles WI limestone in an instant.

I am long past driving by the houses I grew up in; the truth is I was long past that within two years of moving away. I have no desire to take my kids on a tour of where I went to school. I did drive by my junior high school that is now a middle school, but it wasn’t out of nostalgia, it was just the most direct back road route from Carvel. It really does all come back to food when I’m here.

But I will gain 5 pounds in a week and I have been collecting rocks to bring back (I’m driving after all) from my Dad’s property aka “woods”. I do enjoy the windy, hilly, woods-lined streets of CT. I enjoy them so much it bothers me a little that my husband and kids all get carsick while riding on them.

For me, my hometown is “the town of one’s present fixed residence” or is it? I’ll be back in my hometown in another week and when someone new asks me where I’m from I’ll say, “CT” and then I’ll think about the food and the slate, rather than places and things.  Yet, whenever I visit CT it’s never long enough.

Where’s your hometown and what comes to mind when you think about it?

Las Vegas in a Nutshell

As you know I recently spent 3 days in Las Vegas for my sister-cousin’s wedding. I covered my mom hat with my matron of honor hat, but it was never far from me.

I saw The Strip (as well as THE hotel) and Downtown and let me tell you, no matter how much the Dept. of Tourism or the Chamber of Commerce tries to convince me it’s a family friendly vacation destination I was far from booking tickets for my kids to meet me.

Here is a brief overview of some of my random thoughts about the City of Neon, or is it Sin City?

Observations and Thoughts

There’s a lot of water in the desert (fountains everywhere, including the parking garages!)

I was cold nearly the entire trip. The casinos/hotels/resorts are so big I could barely find my way outside of the frigid air conditioning. Whenever I put on my hooded Alabama sweatshirt I kept thinking about the preview for the new show Whitney where he says to her, “You’re wearing a hoodie to a wedding!?” I did leave the sweatshirt behind for the wedding, but it did get me a great 2:00 am Roll Tide in THE hotel lobby!

Straw Bama Daiquiri

Casinos are only fun when you understand how you’re losing your money. The penny slots took my dollar so fast I felt like I was slapped in the face.

I witnessed those breasts getting a lot of action. 

The phrase, “Only in Vegas” was fully understood.

There are no traditional panhandlers in Vegas, they all find some random, often scary costume to hide in while collecting “tips” for photos.

A panhandler in Downtown Las Vegas. I couldn't help but picture it running after someone and beating them up with whatever things were in its bag along with the peacock feather.

Taxi drivers in Vegas are friendly and mostly not from Vegas. The one that was told me the only job she hasn’t held yet is as a hooker.

Things overheard in Vegas

“That’s not my underwear, I don’t even wear underwear.”

“She’s a paralegal by day and a stripper by night.”

“You know the front row is the topless section, right?”

“Now it’s time to cut my t-shirt off.”

Until more come to mind, remember that what happens in Vegas doesn’t really stay in Vegas, it stays on the internet forever.

A Night at the Airport

I once, or twice, wondered what it would be like to spend the night at an airport. Would I wander the concourses, read everything in the airport there’s never time to read as I am usually rushing to the next gate or would I sit at the window and watch the sky go by?

It turns out all I would do is try to sleep.

Author’s Note: This posting is not about which airline I was traveling.

My day started in Las Vegas after a night of celebrating at my sister-cousin’s wedding followed by very little sleep. If you are reading this and thinking you need a specific amount of time all I can say is that it was no more than 2 hours, and not necessarily in a row. But hey, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. It turns out I should have stayed in Vegas for another day.

After my 8:10 pm flight out of Chicago was delayed a few times it was canceled around 11:15 pm. A few minutes went by before I was told the good news/bad news. Good news was my flight was no longer canceled, just delayed – bad news was that it was delayed until 7:45 am! The American airline I was flying offered to put us all up at a hotel and gave us a $5 meal voucher. We were to be back at the airport at 6:30 am. Now here’s when I calculated just how much sleep I did not get the night before, ah hell I was calculating the lack of sleep I had gotten in the past THREE nights in Vegas.

The next thing I did surprised me a bit. I asked the American working at the Airline counter how far away the hotel was. The answer combined with my exhaustion formed the following sentence, “Is it okay if some of us just sleep here at the gate?” She said, yes and I went back to curling up on my two-chair bed with my blanket – I actually had a blanket in my carry-on, no pillow, but a blanket.

So for the next 6 hours gate L2B at O’Hare was my hotel. There were three other passengers who shared my decision, we spoke very little last night, we were all just comforted that we were not alone. I know I was.

I did not leave the chair all night. I am not Tom Hanks from The Terminal.

So here is what I learned last night as I “slept” at the airport.

I learned that to prevent getting sick from germs I should cover my mouth when I cough or sneeze and should wash my hands after coughing and sneezing. I learned that there is no smoking in the terminal and in order to smoke a smoker must stand 50 feet away from the terminal. I learned that between midnight and 5 am the only people allowed in the airport are ticketed passengers and employees. All of these things I learned from the recurring messages that played all night.

I learned that they DO vacuum the airport at night, even if there is someone sleeping. The cleaning people are not intimidated at all by sleeping passengers (or most likely employees since we’re the only ones allowed inside), they WILL vacuum by your head and make a lot of noise picking up garbage under your seat (and no it was not my garbage).

I learned the airport (or at least Gate L2B) is only quiet enough to sleep between 3:00-4:00 am.

I also learned that packing three books was the smartest thing I could have done, although a pillow in my carry-on would have been nice to. The softest thing I had in my not soft bag was two of these hardcover books…and believe me I did consider using them.

At about 6:30 am my decision to pass up the hotel room was confirmed. It seems that because the boarding passes had yesterday’s date on them (remember the flight was delayed, not canceled) that security would not let passengers through security until they received the post-it memo.

I do not place blame on the airline, I’d rather be delayed overnight and arrive alive than have flown through the storm that filled front yards by the airport with downed trees and tree limbs.

This photo was taken HOURS before my arrival at Gate L2B.

           

After working a high school football game last fall I stopped wondering what it would be like to be in a high school after the teachers and students were gone.