The call of the open road (times two)

What was it about that night?
Connection in an isolating age.
For once, the shadows gave way into light...
For once I didn't disengage...
--Rent

It's raining, and I'm feeling nostalgic. Started last night. I'd been talking to my buddy M. for a couple of hours, and was whining that I should've ordered in a pizza before the delivery places closed. With Paul out of town, I'm just foraging. I would've made a lousy bachelorette.

Anyway, about 4 a.m., I decided I was going to make a run to Krystal (White Castle to you Northerners) for some heartburn-on-a-bun. So with my bag of noshables at my side, I decided to crank the tunes and drive (a much easier task now that Carrie and Matt aren't around to agonize). I don't know why I do such things, because I invariably end up visiting my old haunts, dreaming of happier times.

I started by driving by the house where I spent the first seven years of my life. (As you'll recall, Paul and I are paying off the house where I spent '87 to '98.) Funny, how clearly I remember my old house -- watching my grandfather walk in the back door, getting splinters from the pool deck, cutting my hand on the chain-link fence, etc. But most of all, I remember My Tree, the one my parents planted when I was born. It was a beautiful strong Japanese maple perfect for climbing. And in fall, when all the other trees were turning yellow and orange, mine turned purple. It made me feel special. When we moved, the new owners cut down my tree. I cried, then I bought a copy of The Giving Tree, then I cried some more.

After I left there, I drove by my grandparents' house, the one where they lived until Papa's dementia forced them into assisted living. I drove by the park where I met my first crush on the merry-go-round. I drove by the bar where I first heard MattieP rock out (gee, update your blog, thxmuch). Then I picked up the back roads, the ones Mattie and I used to take when we'd go out, and drove all the way to Mississippi. After IMing M. ("You're where?!"), I picked up the Interstate and took it all the way home.

The sun was peeking over the horizon as I pulled into the driveway, and I sat in my car long enough to listen to the incredibly poignant "Side of the Road" by Ben Folds. It's like it'd been handpicked for the end of my little journey.

Next weekend, Jeremy, Sara, Paul and I are piling into the Vue and driving the 12ish hours to Jax to see Carrie. Carrie and I will laugh about stupid things like prom dresses. Paul and I will catch up on each other's lives as we walk on the beach (our 3rd anniversary is a couple of weeks away, so it'll be a nice respite). And at some point, I'll pull Jeremy away from Sara long enough to talk about all the things we've never gotten on the table.

::sighs:: I've got a lot planned for a 3-day weekend mostly spent in the car ... and I haven't even accounted for actually doing anything while we're there. If they're adventurous, we'll all play a beachfront game of hardcore Truth or Truth. If not, I'll play the alphabet game by myself, just like I did on the way to Indy. ::grins::

And that's all for now. I'm off to order the pizza I should have gotten last night. Peace, kiddos.