Monday, August 22, 2011

"Here I go again on my own..."

Ah, a little Whitesnake in the morning... which is essentially all I have as entertainment in my apartment. Ok, so that isn't entirely accurate, aside from Dad's XM Radio, I also have enough episodes of The X-Files, Dr. Quinn: Medicine Woman, Who's the Boss?, and How I Met Your Mother to put me in a catatonic coma. (Is there even such a things as "catatonic coma?" Let's just say there is.) Regardless of my fictitious friends, Mom and Dad left for Vicksburg yesterday so I am, in fact, alone and waiting patiently for classes to start. I'm not going to lie. It's a little deja vu, and its been making me think about my first weeks about Baylor.

I'm much more alone that when I started Baylor back in 2007, and yet I'm not nearly as alone as I was then. I remember welcome week fairly clearly, more so because everyone on campus seems to be enjoying themselves in similar activities. The dorm was constantly buzzing with excitement and enthusiasm and people trying to make friends. So, while I am not surrounded by the hustle of like minded freshmen, I, myself- who I doubted and only truly came to know after weeks of trying to figure out who I was, am much more "here" than in 2007.

Still, I've dreaded being alone with much more dread than excitement. I'm not really sure what the dread is for- the first day of class or the two days I have to complete to get to the first day of class. Even as I write, however, a little bubble of excitement is growing at the thought of sharing all I've been reading with others. The other night, I had dinner with my uncle in town and he said, "you'll love it, the long talks over a pot of coffee." Perhaps... probably... but I'm not expecting a sudden switch to be flipped. There's still alot of adjusting to be made.

Nevertheless, I don't anticipate this change to be as hard as Baylor. Yes, Baylor brought with it a huge adjustment to a workload I had never experienced before, and I anticipate that now, though I think I have an excellent foundation in good work habits, I'll experience another big adjustments in similar ways.

Baylor, however brought something else, the need for self-discovery, the selection of an identity. "You can be whoever you want to be, not who you were made to be in high school," everyone said. College was a 'fresh start.' Perhaps I wanted to be a people person, socially active, and , not a "partier" but a person who goes to parties. I know now that characteristics like that shouldn't be changed in a person. (they can be changed, mind you, but only with considerable effort and pain, then... why? What's the purpose, the payback?) The "Change" everyone spoke of was for those oppressed in high school, forced to conform to a role in the high school society that everyone though they filled. Looking back on my high school experiences, I realize I was so far out of my high school culture, I didn't really even count. Being out of the culture (or, as I would describe it, stading with one foot still chained to the high school side of life while all my weight balanced on my other foot, positioned on the exciting world ahead) didn't make a overly pleasant high school experience. Indeed, many times is was rather lonely.

Ironically, though, it was only until I learned to embrace what kept me alone so much in high school (which was often times just my desire to be alone) that I could settle myself and built the closest relationships of my life. And honestly, I don't fear being alone anymore. I enjoy it when I want to ( and trust me I do enjoy it, a lot) and know I have a place when I choose. That is the lesson Baylor taught me, and knowing that I don't have to go through the emotional stress of learning that again, I feel I can handle nearly anything Big Al can throw at me.




Thursday, August 18, 2011

McDreamy, Fraiser, and a Cup O'Joe

There are towns in the Pacific Northwest that experience an entirely new kind of isolation. I"m talking isolation, isolation. Vastly different from the small town life that says "hy, lets go drive an hour to see a movie... or better yet, Walmart" (shout out to all you Rolling Fork folks out there!). No, these towns find themselves, when winter comes and the snow falls, tucking in to hibernate. Such is the case with Ocean Park, a small sleepy town we visited because Dad recalled seeing a little general store there on tv (if you build it... and put it on TV... we will come). I think we spent an hour wandering the aisels for any anomalies worth giving a try. And boy did we find some things. This little store was designed to provide for anything Ocean Parkers might need or possibly think they might need- and there was merchandise there that dated back to the 1970s, not because it was a "vintage" throw back but because they stocked the product in 1970 and no one has bought it yet. Aside from all the tin Scooby-Doo and Bonanza lunch boxes and Anti-Monkey Butt powder, we found many things with which to satisfy our curiousity: Moxie Cola, Pot- o-Gold chocolate cups, Mallow Cups, and... Flake! In case you haven't sampled it (and I'm sure many of you haven't) Flake is one of the yummiest chocolates out there simply because of its unique texture. Unfortunately, I haven't been able to find Flake outside of the UK, except for Ocean Park, Washington. Who'd a thunk?

Aside from Isolation, there is another issue Pacific North westerners deal with: volcanoes. Mount St. Helens, I think might have been one of my favorite stops on our trip. Many of you know the story of the 1980 eruption. I mean the story has a little taste of everything, suspense, tragedy, adventure... It has captured my imagination.


Also, did you know that Mt. St. Helens is a part of the Pacific Volcanic Arch? and that many of the mountains in the area are volcanoes including Mount Rainier. Indeed, Mount Rainier is listed as one of the 16 Decade Volcanoes- a list of the 16 most dangerous volcanoes with regards to loss of life and property pending an eruption. From my understanding the things that scores Rainier her spot is her proximity to Tacoma and Seattle, both of which could suffer devastating consequences if Rainier were to erupt to the same intensity St. Helens did. This calls to my attention a very important question I want an answer for. You know all those movies about natural disasters and volcanoes erupting and destroying Los Angelos? Why is it never Seattle where the story line could actually be plausible. Would that not be more suspenseful?


Mount Rainier is one of the reasons we visited Washington in August. In the winter (which sometimes creeps into May) many of the roads close due to snow. And let me tell you snow + driving up the side of mountains= not a good combination. But even so, there was snow on the ground. The drive was beautiful, and we even stopped by to take a short jaunt through the woods (no snake, ticks or spiders webs- oh happy day!)

Before heading to Seattle, I had Dad take us on a quick detour over the infamous Tacoma Narros Bridge. Built in 1940, the original Tacoma Narrows Bridge, the third longest suspension bridge at the time, lasted only 4 months before succumbing to the vibrations created by the strong winds across the water. Ever seen the video?



The original bridge is now an artificial reef and the new bridge looks like this!

In Seattle (which we all know I now cannot move to because of the impending apocalyptic volcanic disaster) we fulfilled our desire to visit the least known/ cared about/ visited National Park Service Sites in America by visiting the National Klondike Gold Rush Historic Site Seattle Unit ( in lieu of the Alaska Unit) and took Daddy to a Mariners game (which they actually won 5-4 over Boston). But let me tell you, the best part was Mecca. Ok, not the Mecca, but close enough. The original Starbucks is located on the North end of Pike Place Market- a shopping district crammed full of vendors, street performers, and shoppers. Du woop music fills the air while the aroma of fresh seafood mixes with flowers. Starbucks was a mad house with a line out the door and barely room to turn, but after we got our coffees (yummy, yummy coffee) we wandered and looked, which as you know by now, we are masters at. We tasted unbelievable crab, watched the guys at the fish market throw mackerel over everyone's heads and did a bit of shopping ourselves. My terrific find of the trip? An original 1863 copy of the New York Tribune detailing the breaking news of the surrender of Vicksburg.



That was teh last hurrah of vacation. It's hart to pin point a favorite part, but I'm most thankful for the "boring" moments: walking through a grocery store, driving across a bridge just because we can, an watching men throw fish across a market. So few people would enjoy that with me, but honestly, those are thie stories that make life truly interesting.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

The Trail Ends Here



I can't tell you how wonderful it is to have another travel post to write. I feel that for the first time in a while, I actually have something to say. Ah well, I suppose that's the challenge of actually writing about daily life as opposed to a 3 month stint in Europe.

I call this post, "The Trail Ends Here," because, in a way, this vacation was the end of a trail, both figuratively and literally. When I was littley my parents decided we should try and see all 50 states by the time I finished high school. We didn't make the deadline, most notably because of the hopportunity to go to Europe. Who wants to see California when Paris is knocking at your door? Nevertheless, this trip completes us, as far as the Continental US goes at least. (Hawaii is all thats left, but will wait until after... what else? Europe.) That's the figurative end of the trail, now on to the literal.

Q: Does anyone know which two trails end in Oregon?
A. The Oregon Trail and Lewis and Clark's Expedition of Discovery.

We've often done "nearly" themed vacations- one year we went to nearly every significant site Abraham Lincoln ever lived in KY and IL. Our GA, TV, SC, VA, and MD vacation was like the Civil War on steroids. Lewis and Clark have always been intriguing to us, me in np articular because of Sacajawea, whom I honored at the end of the trail by buying a biography of. But I"m getting ahead of myself.

On Tuesday we landed in Portland, Oregon. Surprisingly, many things in Portland remind me of European culture- small cars, biking lanes, attention to recycling, and being environmentally friendly. The people, however, remind me of being in Austin. Indeed, I think one of the most sought after past times in the town is people watching.

Our first task was to find Fort Vancouver, an old fur trading post and commonly accepted as the end of the Oregon Trail that was established in 1825. It sits just across the Columbia River from Portland in Vancouver, WA (raise your hand if you knew there was a Vancouver, Wa...) Then we headed over to Portland's famous Japanese Garden.

After dinner we went to the voodoo doughnuts, home of the Maple Bacon Log, the most bizarrely, delicious thing ever:

This store could have been in the heart of New Orleans. The outside is painted this strange silver with glitter, and on the inside is pink and neon. They only let one person per cashier in at the time which results in a line that wraps around the block. Our wait, apparently, wasn't so bad, only 15 min.

Lindsay's foodie recommendations for Portland:
Lunch: Beaches Restaurant, fish and chips
Dinner: Jake's Famous Crawfish Grill, crawfish Etoufee'

The next morning we paid Portland adieu and headed to Astoria. We made a bee line for the 101, otherwise known as the Pacific Coast Highway, and detoured to Seaside, OR to dip our toes in the sand. We also picnic lunched at Sunset Beach State Park- what is now one of my all time favorite picnics of all time (trust me, we've picnicked all over the country). Making it into Astoria, we stopped by Fort Clatsop. Clatsop is the fort Lewis and Clark built in 1805 after finally reaching the Pacific Ocean. They spent the winter of 1805-1806 there. After we left Clatsop, we explored Astoria. It's a good size little fishing community built on the side of hills that would rival San Fransisco.



Lindsay's foodie finds of Astoria, OR:
Dinner: Bridgewater Bistro, clam & mussel gnocchi
Breakfast: Pig'n Pancake, sourdough pancakes

Well, that's all for our Oregon travels. From Astoria we crossed the bridge into Washington, but that's a whole 'nother post.






Monday, August 1, 2011

'Cause I'm a Grown Up Now

With in the past few months, my friends and I have crossed the threshold from simple college student to grown up. Unfortunately this change (that came along with a piece of fine paper and a mortar board) came about like most birthdays. Have you ever woken up on your birthday morning and thought "oh, wow, I feel a whole year older today?" I didn't think so. Becoming a grown up is much the same way. You see, circumstances say I'm an adult now, but inside I feel no differently than last year.

I've noticed a phenomena among my friends. It started as a phrase that reoccurred among our Facebook message thread in several variations: "Grown-up" "Because I'm a Grown up" "If I'm a Grown up." We're all doing things for the explicit purpose of making us feel more up to the role of being an adult. The amusing thing is that we all started doing the same things without consulting one another and, in the process, inadvertently compiled a definition of "grown-up." Everything in this post has been tackled by at least two of my friends (myself included).

Since I'm a grown-up... I need to own breakable dishes. It's upping the responsibility level to know you can't just chunk them into the sink at the end of the meal. As one of my friends said, "I could have used my own dishes, but I feel a lot more grown-up picking out my own set."

Since I'm a grown-up... I may have to move someplace I don't really want to live because the job offer is too good to pass up. Sometimes the best things for us aren't things we would necessarily choose otherwise.

Since I'm a grown-up... no more roommates! So this isn't always plausible, but those of my friends who could afford to live without someone else, have taken that opportunity hands down.

Since I'm a grown-up... I need a Queen Size bed. Apparently grown-ups do not sleep in twin beds, or full sized beds for that matter. Then we go around referring to our new furniture as our "grown-up beds" (which makes them sound decidedly less grown-up).

Since I'm a grown-up... I don't have to pay for my own laundry. If the apartment did not include washer/dryer hookups, it wasn't even considered.

Since I'm a grown-up now... I need heavy furniture. Ladies and Gentlemen, enter Lindsay's super heavy, solid wood desk. Good luck to my dad getting up the stairs into the apartment!

So there you have it, the definition of a grown-up. I've got to ask, do you fit the mold?

Sunday, July 17, 2011

25 Things to Miss About Waco, Texas



It's the end of an era. Last week I finished my jar of Avalon Organics Vitamin C face cream. Despite the price tag, I live/swear by this stuff. It's so smooth and creamy and leaves your skin smelling like oranges. I recommend it to anyone who can find a jar. Just one problem, I have not seen this product anywhere outside of Texas. Before I left Waco, I did a mad raid of the grocery store for any products like my Avalon Organics, stock piling as much as I could. Now that I'm on my reserve jar, I watch the amount dwindle every morning and can't help but think about all the things there is to miss about ex-hometown.

25. HEB-One word, MAGIC! A few days ago, I started a sentence with "I found this-- at HEB..." and was quickly teased, "uh, this is Mississippi, Lindsay. We don't know what that is." It's a shame, too. I think the rest of the country is missing out. Where else can you find bacon flavored Mayonnaise? Among other notable items I added to my cabinets over the years- dried okra, Synergy Kumbacha, Central Market Green Chile Tortilla chips (amazing with half an avocado), Seasonello Bolonaise Seasoning (straight from Italy),and Lobster stuffed Salmon pinwheels. Really, it's amazing I didn't gain 45 pounds during my college years (See number 20). I have hope, however, because a coworker currently living in Starkville told me one day that she makes trips to Tuscaloosa just to go to their Target. Here's Hoping.

24. Grackles- Every fall Waco, Texas (and several other cities in Central Texas, I must add) becomes an Alfred Hitchcock movie. The Grackles invade on their migration south and for months every ledge of every building, power lines, bridge, billboard, and any other surface has a solid row of black birds, chirping away. Be careful, for you'll learn the hard way that if you park under the tree in the HEB parking lot, your black CR-V will become a black and white Polk-a-dot CR-V. We wouldn't want that, now, will we?

23.The Green Dome of the Pat Neff Tower- Anytime any affiliate from Baylor wins anything, that dome is lit green. It's really quite convenient if you went to the movies with your friends and forgot to check the score of the Women's Basket Ball Game.

22.Shopping- speaking of shopping: 2 bookstores, Ann Taylor Loft, Old Navy, Kohls, Dillards, Sports Academy, (*ahem, HEB), Nine West... need I say more. All you Vicksburg Folks know. Ain't no driving an hour to get to Madison.

21. Austin/ Houston/ College Station- OK, so maybe there is driving an hour to do something. But really, what's a few hours when you're going to see Les Miserables in Houston? Or going to the chic little vintage store in Austin. Gone With the Wind on the Big screen anyone? I never complained.

20. The Bear Trail- The 2.45 mile trail that looped around the outside of campus not only kept me fit but, most importantly, kept me mentally sane. I walked it nearly everyday, if only to enjoy the breeze and the sunset.

19. All University Sing- Speaking of being fit. Practicing a 7 minute high intensity Broadway style act 14 hours a week will do the job in a pinch. But nothing compares to Parking Garage practices, Waco Hall performances, and standing in the freezing cold for hours waiting on score results. If you do it right like I did, you get initiated with bronchitis and a double ear infection the first week of performances.

18. Always having a place to go on a Friday night- Most of you are at least nominally aware of my friends, often referred together as "the girls" and separately as Kimberly, Jennifer, Rachel, and Valori. I often made the 2 minute walk between our apartments on a Friday night to do nothing more than hand on the couch and solve Sporkle Quizzes.

17. Birthday Cake Ice cream- A novelty outside of Texas, Bluebell's Birthday Cake Ice Cream is seriously the best thing in the world. It's presence in the Memorial Cafeteria Fridge always guaranteed that I would be having dessert that night.

16.Bluebonnets- I'll miss my annual picture in the bluebonnets so much, I named my new car Bluebonnet in honor of the official state flower of Texas.

15. Sic'Em Bears- There's nothing like doing a Sic'em Bears with thousands of fellow Baylor fans at homecoming, football games, basket ball, or just because someone thought it was a good idea at the time.

14. The things my parent's love to do- I have to confess I asked for their help in compiling the list. Here's how it went.

Mom: "Oh, oh, oh! Pei Wei!"
Dad: "Health Caaaamp"
Mom: "Chipotle!"
Dad: "Teryaki Joes"
Both: "Duble- R!"
(notice a trend in this line of thought?)

13. Taco Cabana- Every Sunday night= a regular Steak Quesadilla with a regular Coke (no, Dr. Pepper!)

12. Homecoming- Bond Fires, Parades, Football Games... Pigskin?! What more could a girl ask for from life?

11.Carol Science Building- My favorite, Favorite Building on Campus. In true Baylor Fashion, the Carol Science building does not house the Science department but the English department and I'm fairly certain that is why I was a Creative Writing Minor. The building was built in 1910 and there is a huge wooden staircase that lifts straight through the center of the building. I always imagined Gilbert Blythe racing through the halls with his medical school buddies going from class to class. To bad the building isn't on Prince Edward Island.

10. My Real Housewives/ How I Met Your Mother buddy- Really, dissecting how Kim Richards' behavior may or may not be a result of alcoholism (The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills) is no fun when your the only person watching (*ahem- Amanda-*ahem). Also, one word: Cockamouse.

9. Dia-Del-Oso- Really, what other school gives students an entirely made up holiday off of school? Then you just get all confused because the mail still runs and everyone else you know has to go to school that day.

8. Tex-Mex- That's right folks, the good ol' El Sombrero just isn't cutting it anymore. (I may make a concession for a cup of charro beans from Cilantro's.) While I am mournfully not a mega fan of the Austinesque restaurant, Chuy's, I find my true love in Ninfa's Spinach Enchiladas. Oh man, so tasty.

7. Floyd Casey Stadium- Booking it across the field while being chased by 400 other screaming freshman in an attempt to cheer the football team onto the field and touch RG III.

6. Common Grounds- Cowboy Coffee or a Hotel California, it never matter which drink I ordered, Common Grounds always perked up a rough day.

5. Gut Packs- Yes, Gut Packs do deserve their own number. If you've never been to Waco, you need to go, even if all you do is go to Vitek's and order a Gut Pack. (Extra credit points are awarded for a visit on game day). Here's how it goes: fritos, baked beans, pulled pork, original sausage, cheese, onion, and pickle. Oh geez, now my mouth is watering.

4. Christmas on 5th street- I loved getting bundled up to go see the Christmas Tree lighting in the Quad, and then standing in line with hot chocolate while waiting for a carriage rides. Also, there are camels.

3. Collins Dining Hall- flying saucers, blueberry pancakes, and the best salad bar on campus. It was a must at least once a semester even after the meal plans disappeared.

2. Kolaches- I mentioned kolaches the other day and got very strange looks. For all you non-central Texas folks, let me explain. Kolache (Cech origin) is a name for two different kinds of pastries. The first and original pastry is a sweet bread that had a dollop of fresh fruit, jam, or spread in the center. (Think flavors like blueberries and cream, apricot, pumpkin pecan.) Moving away from the original meaning, the term "kolache" is also used to describe something like sausage in a blanket. It's popular, in Central Texas because of the high number of Cech Immigrants to the area.

1. The Bells of Pat Neff- where else can you walk home from your 6:00 Orchestra class and hear the bells play "Amazing Grace" or be reminded its Veterans Day because you hear "God Bless America."

So there you have it. My list of 25 things to miss about Waco.

And just for good measure: A picture of a Kolache, because you know you want one.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Where I Hang my Hat: Vol I




I have news. Big news.

Ok, so maybe not quite so big to anyone else, but for me, we're talking mucho macho grande. I officially have an apartment complete with a number and an address!!!

How many of you out there have already had your first place? How well do you remember it? Do you recall the feeling of "I'm so grown up now!" True, I've been living on my own for four years now, but the first two of those years were in a dorm room= does not count. The last two of those years I had an apartment... and a roommate (consequently, the same roommate I had the first two years). I'll always remember the Jamestown apartment, in all its glory: The constantly dripping facet in the kitchen, the roommate upstairs that played the bongos to all hours of the morning, the way the bedroom door always shut when the A.C. turned on. Oh, and I mustn't forget all of our neighbors: Shirtless Guy, Party Animal, Cat Lady, Girl with the Pink Bedroom, Kick-Butt chick, Asian Boy, and Girl- With-A-Thousand-Dogs. I have great stories to tell. Like the time Girl-With-A-Thousand-Dogs' Chihuahua ran into our apartment as Amanda was going to class one morning, only to hide under our dining room table and pee on the floor anytime anyone touched it. Or like the time it snowed and our across-the-courtyard neighbor (Shirtless Guy) decided to chill all his beverages in the yard.

It hasn't really sunk in that this new apartment, however, will be the place that I live- "My First Place" in fact. I think its still an ephemeral idea floating around. Furniture is being collected/bought. I know where its all suppose to go, like giant crossword puzzle that needs to be figured out. I've collected trinkets and books, and even have a set of the cutest dishes you've probably ever seen. But it has still yet to become the solid reality of four walls, a floor, ceiling, plumbing, and electricity. This weekend, however, it has become a little more solid.


First, I would like to introduce you to my parent's new favorite child...

Didn't know they had gotten a dog? That's because they didn't. This is our neighbor's dog. We think they might have named him "Wally," but we're not sure so we just call him "Doh deeDoh."
He hangs out at our house quite a bit. Mom and Dad seem to enjoyh is company but I think that's just because he's more of a surrogate "GrandDog." They can play with him all day but when it comes feeding time he's high tailing it back over to his house.

Now you have to know my parent's in order to know that they are big DIY people, and they're really quite good at it. Over the years I've watched them do all sorts of Home Improvement projects: play house building, hardwood floor installation, uninstalling and reinstalling old/new kitchen cabinets. I sort of think that they live with the motto "why pay someone to do it when you can enjoy the adventure of doing it yourself?"Of course, the adventure only last so long when you find yourself on your hands and knees on the bathroom floor at 2 in the morning trying to re-grout the tile.

Anyway, I'm now in possession of some beautiful odd-n-end furniture thanks in part to Uncle R and Aunt J and the First Monday Flea Market, Canton Texas. I wouldn't think it unfair to say that many post college girls trying to furnish their first apartment might not like the idea that the pieces don't match, but they don't have their mom's standing between them and the new furniture with her hands up saying, "don't form an opinion until we're done." I say, "Have at it guys."
Saturday they primed...

Sunday they Painted...



And by Monday I have the most adorable set of matching furniture...

(End Table, Coffee Table, and TV stand- and behind that you see a bookcase, part of my day bed for the guest room, the spools soon to become tables for my balcony, office chair, and bar stool)
The most adorable part of the entire set, I think are the glass knobs.

Even if my apartment has yet to become real to me, my garage it serving a reminder that something different is about to happen.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

"If Left Alone"

Change: to make the form, nature, content, future course, etc. of something different from what it is or from what it would be if left alone.

This blog is supposed to be about change. Changes in life, location, environment, responsibilities, self identity. It is the change from a child to an adult. Change from a student to an individual whose actual job is to go to school. The change of moving to a new place and trying to start a new life. I like this definition of change. To make something different from what it would be if left alone. Noticed how I haven't written a post since May 15?

Aside from a four hour ceremony at the end of the school year, change hasn't really happened. I moved home, put my stuff away, and started the same job that I've carried for the past 4 years. (Alright, its a slightly altered version of the same job. More on that to come later.) Seeming as I'm afraid I'll lose all my readers if I wait for something terribly exciting to happen in my life (still months away) I though I'd take a moment to reflect not on the changes in my life, but their absence.

When I was younger, I thought routine and commonplace would be my enemy in life. How horrible it would be, I thought, to be 30 and expected to settle down, stay in one place, have kids, go to soccer practice and worry about groceries, gas, and dinner. It would be as though all the excitement of life ended. All the firsts: kiss, car, apartment, job, promotion- just coasting to the end. (Rarely in my younger days did I pause to consider that the commonplace and everyday happen to you when you are prepared to meet it with open arms. Your goals and desires do, in fact, change through the years.)

I lived for the day I graduated high school, always knowing I wouldn't go to college in Mississippi. Please don't misinterpret my meaning. I was and am not one of those kids who grew up hating her hometown. Indeed, I love where I'm from, and love it all the more as I watch myself interact with other societies.

I blame my parents entirely.

It's kind of like how I blame my dad for introducing me to the love of my life, Mr. History, when he could just have easily introduced me to Mr. Neuro Science or Dr. Corporate Law, but that's a different story for a different day.

At the time I graduated high school my parents and I had visited 45 states and 5 foreign countries. Come August the count goes up to 49 states and 16 countries.

Lesson: There are billions of people living billions of different lives all over the globe. I think its always been a part of my life's goal to live as many little lives in my one big life as possible.

Anyway, back to absence of change. I no longer think routine in the great enemy of life. I think its Comfort. Not the comfort that makes each day a pleasant sigh of breath, though. I mean the Comfort that prevents what you should and would do if it were absent, the " if left alone." It's this Comfort of growing up in a small town where you know everyone that prevents you from taking the opportunity to travel or go to school somewhere new. The Comfort of school prevents you from getting a job, or the Comfort of a job prevents you from going back to school. The Comfort of a relationship that prevents you from doing anything in the singular form. I do alot of battle with Comfort in the summertime.

I like my job. It gives me the Comfort of independence and money. It gives me the Comfort of childhood memories and an intriguing status among the public. I adore the Comfort of wearing my uniform. Most dangerous though, is that my job crosses over with my "Mr. History" just enough to lull me in a false sense of security. The Comfort allows me to think I can do this for the rest of my life, and I could. But at the end of the day this is not what I burn to do. Park Ranger Lindsay is not who I yearn to be (right now at least). So imagine the frustration. I'm in daily battle with my old enemy Comfort, while waiting with open arms form my knight and shining armor Change to whisk me away from it all. Unfortunately, Change is still too far away to save me yet.

It appears I'm all dressed up with no where to go.