Find a penny, pick it up...

Today as I was hightailing it across the fine state of Iowa*, I found myself at a truck stop in Floyd, IA. As I stood there at the pump, contemplating the assortment of pickled things and fried chicken giblets available inside, I glanced down to see a gleaming penny, heads up, in a slush puddle nearby. 

With absolutely no hesitation, I plucked Lincoln out of that puddle and put him in my pocket.

Two plus hours later, after unloading my car at my storage unit, I found myself using the (questionable) bathroom at the self-store. And would you believe that as I adjusted my jeans, and the toilet flushed, out fell my lucky penny directly into the swirling waters? Because that's exactly what fucking happened. 

If that isn't a sign, I don't know what is.


*Iowa, not that nice. Always  windy AF. Worst gas mileage ever. But they have cheap gas and will sell me booze at the gas station, so we'll agree to disagree.

Oh, The Places You'll Go!

I cannot begin to explain the places that life has taken me in the past few months. I mean, I can barely keep track of and make sense of it all. How can I possibly be expected to put it into words that would be meaningful to others?

I've slept on the porch of a clay pigeon & gun club in rural Colorado. I've set up quarter-mile long slip'n'slides in cities across the country and taught myself to drive a forklift (thank you, YouTube). I showered with toads in Dumas, TX. I've watched two abnormally large dudes come to blows over...nothing? everything? and then make amends by going to an air show. I've riden in a homecoming parade, slept in a fire station (and on the floor of a VFW), been pulled over by military police, watched the sun rise and set over trailer parks and campgrounds across the country, slept next to a meth lab, gone joy riding in a Lamborgini, and that's not even the cliff notes.

I'm still attempting to process things. From slip'n'slides and road trips to new jobs and life decisions, a lot has happened. Thousands of photos have been taken, and sit unedited on an external hard drive, because I've been too busy living life to sift through them. And while I don't yet have the capacity to logically and completely do my story justice, I can tell you this. It's the incredible people in my life that have made every flight, early morning, late night, bump, bruise, and heartache worth it.

"You'll look up and down streets. Look 'em over with care.
About some you will say, "I don't choose to go there."
With your head full of brains and your shoes full of feet,
you're too smart to go down any not-so-good street.

And you may not find any
you'll want to go down. 
In that case, of course,
you'll head straight out of town."

Two Weeks Down, Eight Weeks To Go

I can't believe I'm already two weeks into this adventure.

I've come along way from the tears and stress of the first few days here. I'm relieved to say that the impulse to jump on the first flight home has died down as we've settled in to a routine. I still feel a little lost and incomplete, but being away from W and the puppies is much more manageable than it was.

Every time I try to sit down and put this adventure into words, I can't. The experiences, the challenges, the people, the conversations, there's just so much more to this than I could ever do justice to. I find it impossible to summarize the kindness and generosity that has been shown to us by strangers, and even more moving has been the support and acceptance that the military family has show me, the liberal, peace-loving, sometimes naive, girl that I am.

I've slept in a field, spent a day at a shooting competition, and been quoted in a NRA publication. I've squatted on the front porch of a rural clays & gun club, peed on the side of the road (and myself), got a tattoo, and eaten a gas station breakfast burrito. I've seen 3 states (and courting), driven a gravel road over a Mesa & down into a canyon, learned to read a map (kind of), and developed a deep love of the local KOA.

For better or worse, these boys have become my family. Despite the most fundamental differences, we are challenging one another to grow, and I'd like to think they are learning as much from me as I am from them. We fight and disagree and we will NEVER see eye to eye on so many things, but I know that if I ever need them all I need to do is holler PORKCHOP SANDWICHES and they'll come running. 

And the laughter. Oh my god, the laughter. I've laughed harder and more often these past two weeks than I have maybe in my life. We're talking tears streaming down my face, trying not to spit out my mouth full of food, might pee my pants, gasping for air, laughter.

I'm learning about who I am, who I want to be, and refining the moral compass that guides me through life. My patience has been tried, my strength tested, my values questioned, and it is in these moments that I know I am growing the most. I can't help but believe that this exactly where I am meant to be right now, and that this journey is playing a huge part in who I am meant to become. 

10 Weeks, 1 Suitcase

Have you ever tried to condense your life and wardrobe into one suitcase? And have that one suitcase of belongings sustain you for 10+ weeks?

Before this adventure I haven't. I can't say I ever even thought about it. So to attempt to do this now, 18 hours before I leave and overwhelmed doesn't even begin to summarize the situation. 

The only things out numbering the tears (and tantrums and frustrations) are the clothes strewn about the bedroom. 

In reality, it's just stuff. There will be stores if I forget anything. And I will see Wyatt hopefully in a few weeks. But the reality of packing my life into one suitcase for the next ten weeks is more than I can handle tonight.