Where the heart is

Since we’ve been home, rather than immediately falling back into our old routine, Russ and I have been in a constant state of readjustment. Our trip across the country was more than a long vacation. We agreed beforehand that it would be a “reset” button for us in some ways. We didn’t realize just how true that would be or how far we’d go with it.

Those last two weeks, when every day meant long drives and moving all our stuff yet again, we longed for the day when we actually woke up in our own bed and didn’t have to pack up and check out by 11:00… really, hotels, what is up with 11 am checkouts? Get with it, noon is the new 11. On our first day back, it was nice not to have to move. But we did have to get used to being in our home again. It sounds simple, but surprisingly, it was more of an adjustment than life on the road. Bags went unpacked, souvenirs sat on the dining room table, and it took us three days to completely wash a load of towels. Still, weeks later, we haven’t completely adjusted. I think we left part of our brains on the road somewhere because we can’t seem to get it together and function normally yet.

When it’s just you, your husband, some clothes and a van, to put it bluntly, shit gets real. You realize how attached you are to your possessions and at the same time, how unattached you are. The highs and lows in life are magnified. For hours and hours, while you drive uncharted territory with nothing to do but think, you come to a lot of realizations. You realize what has to change and what doesn’t. Your ego gets in the way and fights you, but eventually, you concede. When you’re with your partner, all of that doubles because they’re going through it, too. Even the best relationships have their baggage and let me reassure you, every last ounce of that baggage will resurface at some point. All you can do is deal with it and get through it.

There’s not a doubt in my mind that I’ve experienced enough to write a book about our time on the road. If I tell the story right, as cocky as it sounds, I also know that it’s a story people will care enough to hear. It might not be the next Eat, Pray, Love or make any kind of bestseller list, but it will sell… if I do it right. Weeks later I’m sitting here in my office with receipts, notes, phone numbers, stories, pictures and postcards. I feel like I’m trying to put together a crazy puzzle and I’m fighting the inner voice that’s telling me I won’t be able to do it.

Then there’s the question of how honest I’ll be and how much of the story I’ll tell. Do my readers need/want to know what was said on the night of the South Dakota tornado scare, the argument in Nashville or that hilariously catastrophic night in Atlantic City when we left something critical in the van that was valet parked? Do I try and put a positive spin on every place, which wouldn’t be hard since we loved 95% of it, or do I talk about the fact that, yes, the obesity in Memphis and the smoke-friendly Texas environment and factory farms disgusted me?


Writers are chronic over-sharers. Telling our stories are what we do, sometimes at the expense of our privacy. I have tried to write articles where I leave the “me” out of it. Those articles are dull, lifeless and flat. What gives my words the breath of life is the “me” that I put into them. Some people...fellow writers, even... have a problem with this and don’t approve. Those people are lucky in the sense that they can write about certain topics that have nothing to do with their personal lives. I envy those writers just like I envy those of you that go to your office, work 40 hours per week, then go home and forget about work. The writer is always at work. Don’t get me wrong, at times it seems like the writer is perpetually on vacation and those are the times we are incredibly blessed. You’ll never catch me complaining about writing off a Vegas trip on my taxes or scribbling into a notebook from the comfort of a lounge chair or the days following “wine Wednesdays with the girls” when I literally work from bed. But every now and then I find myself wishing I could “turn it off.” I can’t turn it off… ever.

Personally, I don’t have a problem with over-sharing to a point. You’d never catch me writing about sex in detail (unless it was under a pen name…hmm!) or anything like that. I keep plenty of things private, believe it or not. At the same time, I’m not sure how I’ll feel about putting so much of what happened on the trip out there for anyone to see. The first book I wrote was completely fiction. I created characters and scenarios and made things up and made them go how I wanted them to go. If people don’t like the story or the characters, it won’t hurt my ego at all. If they hate this story… well, they hate us! Then there’s the fact that my mother is one of those people who thinks I should have a boring office job and a completely private life. Ah, how easy her life would be if I didn’t tell my funny drunk stories in my blog or tweet about my utter contempt for Sarah Palin! I’ll change some names and identifying details in this story, no doubt, but I can’t change me. And if I don’t put some “me” into this story, all it’s going to be is a really boring travel recap with a few love stories thrown in. Sorry, Mom. You should just join the witness protection program right now.

My husband said it best the other day, as I lamented over this very thing.

Me: But do I talk about... you know, our stuff?

Him: I think you should. I think it makes the trip even more awesome and it makes the story a story instead of just a travelogue.

Me: But what about your family?

Him: My family is awesome. They won’t care.

Me: Oh yeah. But what about my mom?

Him: She’ll just have to understand.

Me: But what about her friends and her co workers? She gets embarrassed by the things I do as it is. What is she going to tell them? What will they think?

Him: *pause* Exactly how many of those people’s kids wrote a book?

Me: *pause* No kidding.

So there you have it. I’m just going to sit down and write the story and go from there. I don’t know when it will be done, who on Earth will want to publish it or who will want to read it. At this point I can barely visualize it in my mind. But I’m going to tell the story and just not worry about all those things yet. Our trip was amazing and crazy and we are still recovering from it in many ways. But we’d do it again in a heartbeat. As the saying goes, no one promised life would be easy… just that it would be worth it. The same can be said, I’ve learned, for true love.

Napa, Portland... and home

There’s a saying that if at the end of your life you can count your true friends on one hand, you’re lucky. And at the end of our trip, Russ and I were lucky enough to visit two of ours.

Las Vegas is one of my favorite places in the world, but it’s also one of the most expensive. The end of a seven week road trip is not the ideal time to pay $16 for a glass of champagne. So rather than spend the 4th of July there, we decided to head North to Sacramento and visit our good friend Alex. I met Alex six years ago and he was an amazing friend to me while Russ was going to school in Laramie. As soon as Russ returned, I introduced him to our crazy group and he and Alex became friends right away. We’d tried to get Alex to come to Vegas and see us, but when he suggested we go wine tasting in Napa on the 4th instead and stay at his place, our inner wine snobs were ecstatic.


Napa was as beautiful as I thought it would be. We tasted reds and whites at a few wineries and had lunch downtown before heading back to Sacramento to watch a fireworks display at a mall. Later that night, before we busted out some strawberry wine from Memphis, Alex introduced us to the greatest Mexican food in all the land, Adalberto’s. I’m convinced it was part of an evil plot to get us to move to Sacramento because I have been craving the stuff ever since. The three of us hadn’t spent time together in years and apparently we had a lot to catch up on because before we knew it, it was 4:30 am. Sadly, the three of us realized we can’t sleep as late as we used to and Alex took us to Old Sacramento and showed us some sites (and bought us gelato) before we left.

Russ thought we should conclude the trip with a night in Portland, Oregon because we’d gone to Portland, Maine. A part of my heart lives in Portland and her name is Melanie. Given the fact that we only gave her 48 hours notice, I wasn’t expecting her to be available. Not only was she available, she offered us her apartment while she stayed with her boyfriend and offered to highlight and trim my hair. I honestly don’t know what I did to deserve such friends, but I am grateful. Melanie and I both dislike calling people, so sometimes we go for long periods without talking. But as soon as we see each other, it’s as if no time has passed. Minutes after our arrival Russ sank onto the couch with a movie and I found myself in her chair, cocktail in hand, catching up on life.


We took Mel and her wonderful boyfriend out to dinner to thank them for their hospitality, where I had the best steamed mussels of my life. Then Russ and I watched Almost Famous while talking about our road trip and the lessons we’d learned…about ourselves, about each other, about all the couples we’d met and what we’d learned from them. We were both sad and happy that it was the last night of our big adventure. Something else happened, too. Russ and I have always been strange about making life-changing decisions. We make them as if we’re deciding what to order for breakfast. Before the night was over, we’d made another one.

The next morning, I awoke to the birds chirping, the sunlight on my face in a way that was refreshing but not overbearing, and in the middle of the most comfortable bed ever. No wonder Melanie is so happy! Russ and I walked up the street to meet Mel for coffee and breakfast before we packed up the van one last time. The drive home was the longest drive on our entire trip. We were both so anxious to get home to our house and our dog. We got to Post Falls about 7 PM. Our awesome house sitter Brendon let Dexter out, who greeted us casually, as if we’d just gone to the store. We ended the trip the exact same way we started it: with $5 appetizers at The Oval Office martini bar & grill. This time, rather than toasting to big adventures ahead, we toasted to being so blessed while on the road and for having the courage to finally pursue our dream.

Viva Las Vegas

Las Vegas is a city people tend to either love or hate. While I definitely see why it’s not for everyone and there have been times I have cursed its name, overall, Vegas has been incredibly good to me. From bypassing the lines at nightclubs to landing a spot on Criss Angel’s Mindfreak show, I’ve got a list of Vegas stories that could fill a book. Despite the summer heat, I knew there wasn’t a better place to spend our anniversary.

It was about a five hour drive from Sedona to Vegas made even longer by the crowds at Hoover Dam. I had never driven before so it was exciting to see the skyline from a distance and realize just what an oasis Vegas really is compared to the barren Nevada desert that surrounds it. I had booked us a room at the Venetian not realizing just what a pain it would be to get all our things into the suite since we didn’t use valet parking. Numerous escalators, elevators and trips to the van later, Russ was already cursing Sin City. I locked myself in the giant bathroom immediately and showered, exfoliated, tanned, and hair-sprayed my way to Vegas-appropriate.

On our first night, we were in a New York state of mind, so we headed to the New York, New York (one of the things I love about Vegas is that you can go just about anywhere without leaving the Strip). After some New York style pizza, a sing along at the dueling piano bar and getting sprayed with water by beautiful women at Coyote Ugly, even Russ had to admit Vegas was a pretty fun place.

We had decided before we left that Las Vegas would be a great time and place to renew our wedding vows. Admittedly, there were some moments on the trip where I thought we’d change our minds. But when we woke up that morning and the man instantly fetched me coffee, I knew he was worth marrying again. I put on my cheesy little white dress and, while we waited for the Towncar from the Chapel of the Bells, I found myself surprisingly nervous. Russ admitted that he was nervous, too. The Towncar arrived promptly at 4:00 PM and we were ushered into the Chapel of the Bells, one of the city’s most famous chapels.


I laughed all the way there about our cheesy Vegas wedding. But when we entered the chapel, the music started and the coordinator had us walk up the aisle together, there was no more laughter. Being there with just Russ, as opposed to 200 guests, was so intimate and special. Thinking about all we’d been through since we first said our vows and speaking the words to him again made me surprisingly emotional and I found myself in tears before the ceremony was over. After our second first kiss, we took a few photographs before heading back to our hotel for an evening of celebration.

After a little champagne and some text messages in our suite, we walked through the Venetian to shouts of congratulations and applause before taking a Gondola ride with two very sweet British women (we just couldn’t bring ourselves to tell them it wasn’t our first wedding and ruin their great story for when they got home). We had an amazing dinner at Wolfgang Puck’s Postrio restaurant complete with free chocolate cheesecake, earning them a place in my heart forever. After dinner it was off to Ghostbar where we rushed to the balcony and I showed Russ the most incredible view of my city he’d ever seen. We arrived just in time to witness something truly amazing and make some new friends… details in the memoir, of course.

After Ghostbar we walked through the Bellagio and had some extremely overpriced champagne complete with awful service at the Caramel Lounge (sorry, Caramel, but you kind of sucked). At a lounge in the Venetian, we finally had our second first dance… the song? Jessie’s Girl. Hey, it worked for us!

Our last day in Vegas was spent wandering the Strip in the heat and taking in the free attractions. We had an amazing anniversary dinner at Mon Ami Gabi in the Paris. It was my third time dining there, Russ’s first, and I have yet to be disappointed. No stay in Vegas is complete without just a little bit of naughtiness so we enjoyed the 10 PM X Burlesque Show at the Flamingo which was awesome and well choreographed. After one last piano bar, this time at the Palazzo, we crawled into bed for one last night in the deluxe suite. One of the tricks to enjoying Las Vegas is to remember that there definitely is such a thing as too much.

Sedona

Sedona is a little oasis in Northern Arizona most famous for its Red Rock formations. Sedona’s vortexes/vortices, enhanced energy spots that facilitate prayer, meditation and healing, make it a metaphysical Mecca full of alternative healers and paradise for the spiritually inclined or those just looking to relax. Since we were only three hours away, I knew it was the perfect place for us to spend our unexpected free day. I was glad we decided to go because Sedona is one of the most beautiful places in the country.

Russ and I had been sore for weeks, so we treated ourselves to massages at Afterglow of Sedona. Denis and Lois, a married couple, started practicing massage and alternative healing after retiring years ago. Russ and I both felt so much better when our hour was complete. We checked in to the simple but awesome accommodations located right next to the famous Bell Rock vortex. I know there are a lot of skeptics out there when it comes to energy and all things related and I encourage those skeptics to spend some time next to Bell Rock. I hadn’t felt so relaxed or clear-headed since long before we left Post Falls.

In the spirit of Sedona we had dinner at the ChocolaTree, a local vegan restaurant. I was worried about how my meat and potatoes husband would like the food. We both loved it. Our homemade guacamole with pumpkin Chia seed crackers and veggie sandwiches were delicious and for dessert we split some Chocolate Ganache. I wish there were more restaurants like the ChocolaTree. Everything they serve is organic, grown locally and sustainably, and free of preservatives and chemicals. It was so nice to eat some food that was actually good for us after all the delicious but terrible food in the South. When the food is that good, even carnivores don’t miss the meat.

The next morning our minds were clear, our bodies were relaxed and refreshed and we were ready to head to the place that would doubtlessly destroy it all… Sin City.

The beautiful desert

When we crossed the border from Texas into New Mexico, the scenery got better almost instantly. I don’t know how it’s possible, but it did. Maybe I’m a little jaded since before we left Texas we passed a factory farm and I wanted to throw up because I’m fundamentally opposed to them. Maybe it’s because in Amarillo, hotels give you a smoking room unless you specify otherwise and no amount of Febreze could cover up the stench. Whatever it was, by the time we reached Albuquerque, I was marveling at the beauty of the desert and wondering how it could look so different than what we’d just driven through.

We stopped to spend a night at the home of two of my good friends from high school, Natalie and Justin. Natalie was up in Yakima preparing for their July 17 wedding. We instantly took over the house with all of our stuff and did our laundry like the annoying houseguests we were. Justin was a gracious host, taking us out for some delicious Mexican food and treating us to wine from Napa. Our Disney-themed guest room came complete with a Tempur-Pedic bed, a welcoming change from some of the mattresses we’d been sleeping on. Russ and I immediately went into nine hour comas.

The next day, we drove through the desert toward Lake Powell, Arizona. We’d wanted to see the Four Corners Monument and Russ wanted to drive through the Hopi reservation, so Lake Powell was an obvious destination choice. Though we were a lot closer than we’d been on the East Coast, the Arizona desert made me feel farther from home than any other place. For hours I had no cell phone service as we drove over two lane highways and passed some of the most interesting scenery yet. I couldn’t stop taking pictures of the rocks.

We got to Lake Powell at dinner time and stopped to eat before we checked in to the hotel. As we were leaving the restaurant, Russ and I looked up and stopped dead in our tracks. We witnessed the most beautiful sunset we had ever seen… and it’s hard to beat the sunsets in Cancun. I can’t even describe the beauty that we saw. I had never seen so many different colors and rays of light shooting through the clouds. Within minutes, it was gone. Fortunately, our room had a balcony with an amazing view and we made plans to watch the next sunset there.

The hotel didn’t have a fitness center and the TV wasn’t compatible with our Wii, so I suggested we go hiking in the desert the next morning. Just like with camping, I always forget just how terrifying hiking is for someone afraid of bugs. As we headed for the trail and crossed the border into Utah, I realized this wouldn’t be like hiking in Washington. I was instantly convinced I’d die from scorpion bites until Russ reminded me that they only come out at night (whew). It was so hot that all of the creatures of the desert were hibernating, much to my delight.


After our hike and lunch at the lake, we went to a museum and learned the history of Lake Powell before eating dinner at Bonkers. The name made us curious and we’re glad we went because the food and service were excellent. We made sure we were back in the room with a bottle of wine ready to sit on the balcony and watch the sunset. It was just as beautiful as the night before and the most relaxed either of us had been on the trip.

Later that night, I looked online for the best route to Four Corners. That’s when we learned that the monument is closed for construction until August. Learning that saved us a three hour drive in the wrong direction. We found ourselves with an extra day before our Las Vegas reservation. I knew just the place to spend that day… Sedona.

The video game that saved me from buying new clothes

The next two days of our trip were spent driving through Arkansas, Oklahoma and the Texas Panhandle. Since we didn’t take the time to stop and explore any of these places, there isn’t much to write about other than a hilarious experience at a Wal Mart in Russellville, Arkansas. Instead, I’m going to take a small break from the tourism reports for a little shameless promotion of the little video game that saved me big weight gain on our trip: the EA Sports Active for the Nintendo Wii.

I knew taking the EA Sports Active with us would be a good idea. Not only is it a fast and easy set up, the workouts are usually around 30 minutes (they also have a 20 minute workout) so even if Russ and I had a busy day ahead of us, I had no excuse not to get my exercise in. I am one of those crazy people who can’t go more than two days without exercise before I get antsy and cranky, so when we drove through the South and its lack of gyms and abundance of greasy fried food, the EA Sports Active saved my butt… that is, saved it from getting bigger.

The first time I used it, I expected it to be easy. I’m in fairly good shape and, though the Wii isn’t our childhood Nintendo, it was difficult for me to take a video game seriously. Ten minutes into my first workout, I changed my mind. I picked the medium level of intensity to start and that turned out to be perfect, because while I made it through the workouts, the last few exercises were definitely challenging. Afterwards, I found myself sweaty, energized, and slightly out of breath… just like if I’d worked out at the gym. To my delight, my legs were very sore the next day. I’m also one of those freaks who likes muscle soreness, the sign of improvement. While some circumstances prevented me from using the EA Sports Active (tiny hotel rooms, incompatible TVs), when I could, I’d jog, punch and lift away the pounds.

Don’t let my soreness deter you from buying yourself the game. I would recommend it for just about anyone: travelers, busy mothers, people who already exercise but need a little boost. But most importantly, I’d recommend it to people who are sedentary and want to start working out but are too intimidated to join a gym. All you need is a Nintendo Wii, a little room to move, and the EA Sports Active. It comes with everything you need, there are specific instructions before each exercise, and you get to set your own personal goals and even choose your own personal trainer. It’s not easy at first, especially if you’ve never used a Wii before. But after stumbling through a workout or two, you’ll be a pro in no time. The EA Sports Active isn't expensive, either... about the cost of one month at a gym. Best of all, each game comes with a little booklet from Bob Greene with information on his Best Life Diet so you can figure out what to eat to lose weight, too.

In case it isn’t obvious, I love this thing. Curiosity got the better of Russ and he started using it, too. Now he walks around with sore calves all day and still goes back for more. Growing up, my teacher of a mother tried to program us to believe that video games were bad. However, I think even she would agree that this is one video game that got it right.

Maybe it was Memphis...

Ribs. Graceland. Blues music. Johnny Cash. BB King. As difficult as it was to leave Nashville, we knew we’d regret not spending a night in Memphis. At least, we thought so. From what we could tell, Memphis is an awesome place to visit and a beautiful city. Sadly, some of our choices proved to be the wrong ones and kept us from really enjoying it.

On our way into town, we stopped at the Old Millington Winery in Millington, TN for some strawberry wine. The owner, Perry, was very generous and let us sample every wine that piqued our curiosities. Perry’s friends were there for “happy hour” and they were kind enough to tell us which restaurants had the best ribs in town while pouring us a glass of strawberry. It was so good and so reasonably priced, we left with an embarrassing amount of it.

When we pulled up to our hotel at 5 PM and noticed we were the only car in the parking lot, we thought it was odd. Still, it looked like a decent place from the outside, so we went inside and checked in. We opened the door of our room to discover a bit of a nightmare. I stifled my inner snob and told Russ it was just one night while crying like a little girl on the inside. We had planned to do laundry that day but the giant hairball in the washing machine changed our minds. Our representative at Hotwire.com seemed to think changing rooms would help. As the poor hotel employee walked us to a new room, we were greeted by a curious cockroach in the hallway. I know we checked out and left, but I don’t think my feet touched the ground after that. After a lot of explaining and a little encouragement, Hotwire.com rectified the situation and I must commend them on their good customer service.

In the meantime, we spent over two hours searching for a decent hotel within our budget before finding a Comfort Suites (which looked like the Four Seasons after our ordeal). By the time we checked in it was getting late, but we still managed to have one of the best meals of our lives at a fabulous restaurant called The Commissary. I knew when we walked in and noticed that we were the skinniest people there by at least 80 pounds that it was going to be good BBQ. It was. I did not eat ribs, but I may have taken a bite of Russ’s and temporarily questioned my eating habits. Despite the claim on our water cups, we did not slap our mamas, but we did leave very happy.

The next day, we decided to check out Graceland before we left. After paying $10 to park, we discovered it would cost us $46 each just to walk through Elvis’s house. No offense whatsoever to The King, but we don’t love him more than we love things like shelter and gas. Blame the greed of CKX Entertainment, who owns 85% of Graceland (Lisa Marie still has a 15% stake). After getting lost attempting to go downtown, we said “screw it” (really, Mom, that’s what we said) and headed West. If not for the cockroaches and the overpriced time suck, we would have seen more of Memphis. But if we start to get depressed, we have plenty of strawberry wine to cheer us up.