Lift me up, let me go

It's been hard to get back into the swing of things. Before I left on my vacation, work was burning me out, hard. This was partially due to the fact that I had worked a truly spectacular number of hours to try and afford this trip, and partially because while I like my job, I used to love it. The love has left, and I starting to feel trapped and hateful and nervous about my work. It's not what I want to do or where I want to be.

The problem, as with so many people, is that I'm not sure what the answers to those questions are. This is the dilemma of a generation.

To this end, I embarked on another journey many, many months ago. I thought to myself, "I loved my degree, I enjoyed Latin, and many people I know are teachers...perhaps this is the route for me!" I went out and talked to one of my old professors, Dr. LaFleur, who has never been anything but kind and generous, and who didn't disappoint. He gave me a ridiculous amount of information and pointed me towards a scholarship due soon, and gave me the boost I needed to get that sucker done and in the mail asap. Thanks to his help, I managed to get the scholarship...$500. Not much, at least in terms of how far that gets you in academia, but enough that it would let me take an Independent Distance Learning course through my university.

Dr. LaFleur recommended that I take Foundations in Education, since I didn't have any experience or background in teaching. Let me state, for the record, that of all the things I regret, I do not for one minute regret taking this course. It was engaging and informative; it made me take another long hard look at a lot of issues, and opened my eyes to things that I had never even considered might be issues. I do regret that I didn't get my shit together and do stuff within a reasonable timeline. I managed to finish the class, only by the grace of pots of coffee, and the amazing staff at IDL, who gave me the week's extension that I needed to get everything in on the proper timeline.

A week ago this morning, I took the final exam for EFND: 2110. It's been years now since I took an exam, and this one was nice and written. I spent several hours scrawling furiously and alternately hoping against hope that the information that I was remembering was the right information and that it would somehow stop being subartic in the testing room (it, in fact did not get warmer, and I don't yet know about my grade). When it was over, I remained worried, a feeling that I'm no stranger to, but I had forgotten the particulars of test-induced worry where your brain is racing a mile a minute remembering the questions and what you wrote, and I have to tie my hands down to keep from going and looking up the answers because it doesn't matter. The test is over. You can't change anything.

So now, I find myself at a loss. This class and the need to make sure that I finished it (so that I don't have to pay back that scholarship) had been the overwhelming drive during the weeks since I returned from my trip out west. And now? Now what?

I learned a lot of really interesting things from that class. I learned even more during the required observation time that I had to do. It's been a while since I've actually been in a classroom, and I've never been on the other side of the teacher's desk. I've sure as hell never experienced kids who would just walk out of the classroom in groups, no regard for the instructors or possible consequences. I don't know if I'm cut out to be a teacher. I don't know if I should give it a shot anyway. I want to help kids and make a difference and an impact, but I don't know if teaching is that outlet.

The basic gist is, I just don't know. Like. Anything. It's frustrating and terrifying. I'm confused and adrift.

The scariest thing? How many people there are out there just like me.

Tuesday I finish bus training. It's not what I want to do, but it's more money. Maybe more hours. I'm not sure that it really matters in the long run. Tonight I learned that my former stepfather realized what a huge mistake he made two years ago, when I had the option of letting the family dog be put to sleep, or taking her myself in a 2 bedroom apartment with a cat (that she would kill) and with me working 10+ hours a day, consistently. I also learned that he thinks it's my fault and I am a terrible person for having friends who helped me out immeasurably by lending me their backyards and garages and helping look after her.

Tonight I also learned that I'm finally going to be able to drive a car made in this century, for a really good deal, and courtesy of my father.

The world is funny, sad, and strange. Often all at once.

And I lied. I do know what I don't want. I don't want to be stuck, never moving forward, never following through, never figuring out me.

We drive to leave the past and clear our minds

The alarm went off at 6:45 this morning. We hopped (me) and dropped (EK) out of bed, fumbling for clothes and to shove the rest of our things into suitcases, hoping desperately that everything had been distributed appropriately, and that nothing would be over the weight limit. We stripped the beds, gathered everything together, and loaded up the Prius for our final drive. I was a little bit sad to be ending the trip, but at the same time, incredibly excited to be heading home again.

After a little fiasco with me attempting to find a coffee shop I couldn't seem to find, and the propensity for all of Glenwood Springs' left turn lights to refuse to operate, we were on I-70 by 7:40. It was a little later than we had anticipated, so the stress was running a little high for me, and we didn't have time to stop for breakfast. The scenery was at least, still incredibly gorgeous, even if I was a little too stressed to enjoy it. Traffic was at least cooperative, and we managed to make it to Denver early enough to refuel the Prius, and turn that sucker in to Enterprise. With their help, we had found a limo service that also offered cars to shuttle people around. A little pricier than the shuttle we used before (I think), but still far cheaper than a taxi. Our ride showed up right on time, in an Escalade (I snorted, but hey, whatever), and we loaded up and headed out. Our driver was a pretty cool fellow, and the drive to the Denver airport seemed to take no time at all. We had a slight hiccup when we got there, as apparently they only take cash for payment, and the credit card that EK thought they were putting it on was only for the purpose of reserving the car in the first place. She dashed inside for an ATM and we had a nice awkward moment waiting for her to return.

Once that was all settled, we headed inside to the kiosk to print out our boarding passes and check our bags (I had the foresight to prepay the night before), and we were excessively pleased to learn that our compulsive packing had paid off, and that my suitcase weighed in at a svelte 45lbs, and EK's at 41lbs. Relieved, we headed down to security, where we had our first experience with one of those full body scanners, and I had the fun job of making sure that the massive amount of crap in my pockets got out my pockets, lest I be patted down.

Thoroughly irradiated, we made it through without incident, and made it down to our terminal, where we hit up an Einstein Bros. for breakfast/lunch. We found our gate, shoveled food into our mouths, and sat down to wait for our flight for just over an hour.

The flight itself was pretty great. I am still convinced that I will never tire of the feeling of accelerating to take off, or the momentary weightlessness as we level off or start the descent, and I don't ever want to get tired of it, either. Our captain was pretty awesome as well; before we boarded, he came out and introduced himself. We got an amusing lecture on the three rules of making our plane load faster (hint: it starts with "Don't" and ends with "block the aisle"), then actually managed to board the plane in a timely fashion! We made pretty good time, and we flew into Hartsfield about 8 minutes earlier than we were scheduled to. Unfortunately, this left us waiting on the tarmac for a good 15 minutes or so, while our pilot intoned that if we enjoyed our flight, his name was Richard and this was Delta, and if we didn't enjoy our flight, his name was Steven, and this was Airtran.

EK's dad was waiting at baggage claim to grab us, and without too much trouble we found the van, he jimmied the back door open, and we were off. Right up until we got to the exit for the airport garage, where we got nice and backed up in traffic. Despite that, and the ancient van's terrifyingly huge turning radius, we eventually made it out, popped through a Chick-fil-A drive through, and made it back to Duluth and EK's car without doom or death. We even managed to get in and out of her parents' without too much delay.

316 was cooperative as well, and we got back to Athens around 8:30 or so. It took another 10 minutes to do the suitcase shuffle and make sure that I had all of my clothes out of EK's suitcase, and that she had all of her books that had been shoved into mine, but I sent her off with a thank you and a hug, and finally was home.

Partially, I wanted to chronicle the very last day of our trip. Mostly, I wanted to chronicle my thoughts on the whole thing. This has been...incredible. It's definitely not been without it's stress as well. I worked myself to exhaustion in the very real sense so that I could afford to do this trip in the first place. The driving was stressful, more so because I am a complete loon, and did it all myself (this I have no one to blame for except myself). Occasionally the hostels were stressful, or our plans to stay with someone fell through. It was hot, it was cold, it was so much walking and hiking and "where do we go to dinner, what do you want to do, should we stop." But I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I have always wanted to travel. It feels like some part of me is always wanting to be somewhere else and do something new, even though I am an awful homebody, and it's hard for me to break out of my set patterns. This trip felt freeing in so many different ways. I feel like I can't use, "I don't have money" anymore, because I don't have very much money, but if I'm given a chance to plan and a little financial guidance, I really can make it happen. To an extent, I feel like there's nothing that I can't do now. I've seen a lot, but there is still so much out there that I haven't had a chance to see or experience. I still haven't been out of the country...maybe one of the cruises that KCN's been talking about. I feel like there's more to this, somehow, as though this is somehow significant and important and a Thing. To me it is, to others, maybe not. It hasn't really changed my life, or changed the world. It's changed my outlook, though. I feel different even as I come home and feel safe and secured and the same.

Day 15:


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Deserves a quiet night

This morning, we slept in until 9 before we hauled ourselves up and got prepared for a day of relaxation at the end of our epic cross-country adventure. I know. Just the sound of that sentence makes me cringe. Who the hell needs a vacation from their vacation? But for all the fun this has been, and it really has, we've done a lot of walking and driving. So much driving, and to have a day where we aren't needing to be somewhere was nice. Also, Glenwood Springs is known for its enormous natural hot springs. How could we not?

We hit the hot springs just after ten, and since it was the off season, we only had to pay $13.25 for an all day pass. We rented out a locker as well, then headed up to the changing rooms, only to find out that we had to shower before we got into the hot springs. It was a little awkward, but mostly in that "walk through a place soaking wet" way. The Glenwood Hot Springs are divided into two different pools, one of which is piped pretty much directly from the hot spring itself, and stays right around 104 degrees. The second pool is a lot larger, and has a diving board at one end, as well as lanes for laps, and a nice huge area for swimming. It's also a frigid 94 degrees, by comparison. EK and I spent a good hour between the pools before we realized that we were completely starving.

Utilizing our all day pass, we headed out, and decided to try the Glenwood Brew Pub, since it was supposed to be open this time around. Fortunately it was, and we enjoyed a nice lunch. I got a mesquite turkey grilled cheese and their house honey wheat beer, which was delicious, and EK ended up with a really solid cheeseburger. Nothing mind blowing, but still very tasty. Afterwards, we headed back to the hot springs for more hot and less hot swimming in mineral water. We lasted another hour or so before we called it a day, showered off the minerals as best as we could and hit up the Sacred Grounds coffee place, where we got smoothies and waited to kill time until our hostel opened back up and we could get real showers.

Some more relaxation and showers with real shampoo and conditioner were just what the doctor ordered, and around 7, feeling pretty good, we headed back out for a cheap meal at May Palace, a place that served several different types of Asian food, and was doing a "recession special" wherein all menu items were 1/2 off. Hard to resist. On our way out, I also got the chance to dote on the hostel's resident dog, Spacey, who was about the sweetest thing out there.

The food was all right, the service was ok, but the price couldn't be beat, and full, we hit the hostel once more to start packing up. The biggest adventure so far, as I write this, has been finding a way to fit in all of the books that we have obtained in our adventures without going over the weight limits. I am downing my Lumberyard Red Rock Raspberry Imperial pint right now, because there was no way that, plus the books, plus everything else, was going to fit in to the suticase. EK has some of my clothes. I have almost all of her books, I am honestly not sure how this is going to pan out, but we're out of here tomorrow at 7, so for now, good night.

You're as bright as the sun

We managed to get up and out around our "normal" time, and were on the road towards Glenwood Springs, CO after a slight detour for aloe and to Barnes and Noble for EK and coffee for me. Heading north, we got to watch trees disappear into desert once again as we entered into reservation territory. Right around noon, we stopped in Tuba City, only to find that we had finally switched over to Mountain Time. We stopped at a Shell, and then for some Taco Bell, as that was unfortunately the most palatable, cheap, and quick option for food. Then? Then we hauled ass across the rest of Arizona, and back into Utah.

On the positive side, it wasn't long before the scenery decided to once again become pretty much incredible as we drove through the initial parts of Monument Valley. The rock formations were really astounding...kind of like being in a strange mirror-verse of the Grand Canyon. It's hard to believe that wind was the primary shaping agent for these outcroppings. Just flat, boring land, and then suddenly a giant pillar of rock, or an arch, or some other unfathomable shape. Not long after, we hit Utah, and got to drive past "the Valley of the Gods" and then through a little town called Mexican Hat, named, we discovered, after a rock formation close by. Slowly but surely, we inched our way through Utah to hit Hwy 191, and we began the careful climb upwards, and into these really astounding and unexpected green valleys like Blanding, Utah, Monticello, and Moab before passing by the Arches National Park until we finally hooked back up with good old I-70, heading east, this time.

After what seemed like an age, we finally hit the Colorado border, and then Grand Junction not too long after that. Glenwood Springs, our final destination, was another hour and a half or so, and we rolled into town around 8 and some change. We decided to change up our travel plans a little bit, and spend an extra night in Glenwood Springs. The Glenwood Spring Hostel is fortunately in the off season at the moment, so getting a private room for two nights wasn't an issue, and we found ourselves tucked up in the upstairs of a house behind the main hostel house, and the only other occupants of the house.

Settled and pretty damn hungry, we decided to finally find food. EK used her cell phone magic to find us the Glenwood Canyon Brewpub, which sounded pretty excellent. That is, right up until the point at where we got there, and realized that we were an hour late for last call, due to
their yearly floor cleaning! Great luck. Instead, we decided to say the hell with it, and went across the street to The Pullman, which was highly rated, but kind of pricey, apparently. After all, our food expenditures for the day had consisted of Taco Bell, so splurging a bit didn't seem harmful.

To say that we were pleasantly surprised would be an understatement. The meals weren't cheap, but they were on par cost wise with something that you'd find at Longhorn, or similar, and for that money, you got dishes like the hangar steak that EK got, with marrow butter and duckfat potatoes. Or you get what I got--the most tender lamb shoulder I've ever tasted with a few roasted potatoes, kalamata olives and chickpeas, and dandelion greens. The portions were just enough, but not huge--a nice change, to be sure. I also grabbed a blackberry soda from the Rocky Mountain Soda Co, which was very, very tasty. For a meal that ended up being a second choice, I couldn't have been happier with the results. Would do again.

We headed back to our hostel, cracked open one of the Lumberyards for EK, and another English cider for me, and relaxed until it was time to pass out.

Day 13:


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Falling's not the problem

Saturday morning started out with EK deciding we needed a real breakfast before our journey out to the Grand Canyon. Using the power of 4square or Urbanspoon, I am not sure which, she gave the Garmin our destination a few miles away from the hostel. I pulled into a shopping center, and then realized that EK occasionally has the memory of a goldfish and didn't remember the name of the restaurant she had chosen. We decided that, of the possibilities, it was probably Mike and Rhonda's The Place, a little hole in the wall diner.

Turns out, it was another win for food, and we enjoyed a ridiculously hearty breakfast that included more coffee for me, and the heartiest portions of hash browns either of us had ever seen. Those alone could have been breakfast. Stuffed, we popped back into the car and headed about 90 miles north towards the South Rim of the Grand Canyon.

The ride itself was pretty chill, and we paid our $25 to get into the national park and headed towards the visitor's center. We parked in the Raven parking lot, and headed to Mather Point and for our first view of the Grand Canyon. I am a reasonably verbose person. Occasionally, I even make sense and am eloquent. There is no way that I can adequately describe what the Grand Canyon was like on first viewing. If I am recalling correctly, a lot of it was me breathing deeply, and saying, "holy shit" over and over again. In person it's unreal. There's a part of you, staring into this enormous hole in the ground, that genuinely cannot comprehend the scale of the thing. You can focus on just about any point in the distance, and it takes concentration before you start to really make out the topography inherent, and are able to discern that no, that is in fact not the canyon floor, but a point several hundred feet above it still. Surreal is probably the best word that I can offer up.

We decided that our best bet was a walk around part of the Rim Trail, so after gaping at Mather Point, we headed on our way. EK was extremely indulgent every time I darted off the trail to stare at the, as the brochure claimed, "gentle views." This frequently involved me clambering over and down rocks and standing as close to the edge as I could until the vertigo set in, or the wind started howling past my ears. The Rim Trail lead us along to the Yavapau Lookout and the Observation Center that was there. It was nice to spend a few minutes out of the sun and looking at diagrams of the geological make up the Grand Canyon, and catching glimpses of the Colorado River waaaaay far away. Before long, we were out again. The park had decided at some point to set up the "Trail of Time" along the South Rim. This was done mostly with little metal inserts into the Rim Trail denoting years, and with exhibits along the way of the different rock strata that make up the Grand Canyon. While it wasn't exactly accurate in terms of time scale, it was definitely effective in showing the make up of the canyon, and giving people a general idea of the extensiveness of time.

Several times along the Rim Trail, the pathway split into two sections; one would always venture closer to the edge of the canyon, but was less well cared for, and often steeper, and the other was well maintained and and easier slope, ostensibly for the ease of disabled users. During one of the steeper splits, EK and I looked up to see an older Asian couple coming down the pathway. It looked like the lady's wheelchair was out of control, but the gentleman insisted it wasn't as they careened down the pathway. We watched in amazement as the lady screamed, "No, Dad-ddiiiie!" to her grinning husband and they zoomed past us. Several more stops for pictures and dubiously wise ledge excursions on my part, we eventually made our way to the outskirts of the Grand Canyon Village, where we explored an hundred year old building that had been turned into a gift shop-cum-historical exhibit. We also managed to see a raven that was about half again as large as my cat, before heading down to the train depot. We managed to find one of the free bus routes to take us back to our car, which had been our goal. On our way back to our lot, we got an impromptu tour of part of the park, got to see the mules getting ready to leave for a trail ride into the canyon, an elk who was just chilling by one of the trees, and a small herd of deer next to the road.

Our route:


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Exhausted, we hopped into the car and headed back to the Grand Canyon International Hostel for a much needed round of laundry and dinner. Despite having to get the hostel attendant to Fonzie the washing machine, we managed to obtain clean clothes without too much money or hassle, and then headed a block down the street to the Lumberyard Brewing Company. We had imbibed dinner from them the night before, so tonight we thought that we might actually try some of their food along with their beer. Turns out, it was a pretty good choice. EK and I both got the pulled pork BBQ platter with a side salad. While the BBQ sauce (we got their regular) wasn't anything to write home about, it was still very tasty, and the meat was nice and tender, and served with Texas toast and cornbread. The salad was pretty good as well...no iceberg, and plenty of vegetables. EK tried their Porter, and I indulged in their Trippel, which was delicious, if also 10.8% ABV. I also got a half pint of their Gold, which wasn't bad, but wasn't spectacular, either.

Stuffed and satisfied, we wandered back to the hostel, and passed the rest of the evening giggling (me) and reading (both of us).

Day 12:


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An incredible 8 ft heap

We hauled out of Las Vegas Friday morning, pausing just long enough for nice hot showers and for me to grab coffee and get cheap Vegas gas. We had intended to get some food as well, but put it off. We headed out and past Lake Mead, just missing Hoover Dam as EK had Fallout: New Vegas flashbacks, and arrowed down Hwy 93 into Arizona. We trucked down through the desert, where I encountered driving very similar to that in Nevada, making it nice and difficult to reliably use my cruise control. Eventually we picked up I-40, and enjoyed the scenery getting more and more scenic, even as the towns became fewer and further between. We also enjoyed a plethora of signs warning us about the elk/deer for the next 20/30/65 miles.

We pushed straight through to Flagstaff, and got here about 3. We checked into the Grand Canyon International Hostel, which is tucked up right into/next to Historic Downtown Flagstaff, and looks like it was part of an old motel at one point. The motel part has since been converted into apartments, so parking is a little convoluted, but over all the hostel has a really nice, homey feel to it. As soon as we moved our stuff in, we headed out for close and cheap food. The winner was Dara Thai. The hostel manager recommended it, and it was almost directly across the street. The food was damn good and damn filling, which was just what we needed.

Sated, we hopped back into the car for the half hour drive or so down to Sedona. Ah, Sedona. We have determined that Sedona is essentially Helen with scenery and a lot more New Agey nonsense. For those unaware, Sedona is well known for it's amazing vistas as well as the "energy vortexes" that have, for lack of a better term, cropped up, in the surrounding landscape. Regardless of your particular beliefs on the matter, you can't deny that Sedona is quite gorgeous. EK and I perused a few kitschy shops, got some ice cream, and then decided that our feet were still a little too pissy after our impromptu Vegas trek to go hiking to see one of these mystical places. They shall remain forever a mystery. On the plus side, we did get to see the much promised elk on the drive back to Flagstaff.

Once we arrived back at the hostel, EK and I took our laptops down to the common room, since the room we had was crammed with two bunk beds, and had no AC or ceiling fan. Upon discovering the vast collection of VHS they had, we decided to watch Disney's Tarzan, since that one had somehow escaped me as a kid. Logically, we also decided that we needed liquor, and lo, we had passed a purveyor of booze on our way back to our hostel.

As it turns out, the liquor store was further than we thought (but still only a few blocks), and was in fact, not a liquor store at all. They did, however, sell many fine smokables and beer. So much beer, and so much of it local. EK and I walked out of there with two bottles of Lumberyard (local brewery a few blocks from the hostel, actually), EK got some Dogfish Head, and I picked up a 4 pack of pretty good English cider. We then proceeded to have beer for dinner, watch Tarzan, and then watch The Ghost and the Darkness, which was quite a Thing. Yes. By the time we were beered/cidered out and had finished our foray into cinema magic with Val Kilmer, our roomates had already come in and gone to sleep. I think EK passed out pretty quick, but I was in sleepy but unable to sleep mode, so I read until about 2, and listened to the drunk graduates celebrate on the streets outside.

Day 11:


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It's time to set it off

Tamar was a sweetheart (and a SCAD grad, too! go check out his webcomic if you're inclined), and let us use the real person's bed, as opposed to the single foldout in the living room. After a decent night's sleep, we were up, showered and out to check out the Border's down the street that was going out of business. Unfortunately, we were a little too on the ball, and we learned that apparently nothing in the Hollywood area opens before 10am. Except the Trader Joes! To kill some time, we headed down the street and picked up some snacks for the road, and then mauled what was left of the book selection at Borders. Now I have to figure out how to get more books into my suitcase. Shit.

Before too long (amazing given our propensity for books) we were on the road again and stuck in traffic once again as we headed south towards Seal Beach. I was not sad to see LA go, since the traffic had made it pretty stressful. On the other hand, I do suspect that it was the only place where I could see an old VW bug with NOS in it. Seal Beach wasn't really a place that we were going to stop initially, but when I found out that it was close to LA, I insisted that we head down there for a bit so that I could relive a little chunk of my childhood.

This trip is the first time that I'd been back to California since my parents and I moved out here for a summer the year I turned 5. It was only a summer transfer for Dad's work, but it was a hell of a time for me, since that summer was the first that I remember so fully. EK was pretty awesome and indulged me, despite the fact that it was out of the way. When we got to the beach (and were generously gifted a parking pass from a guy who was heading out), we headed out to the very end of the pier so that we could have lunch at Ruby's, which is a pretty swank little diner, 40's/50's style. I remember that they used to serve kids meals in little cardboard Cadillac trays that fascinated me as a kid. I had an amazing Cobb burger, and EK enjoyed a fried seafood medley that was pretty yummy. After a few pictures to indulge my Mom, we were back on the road, and mostly traffic free for once.

We struck out across California and the Mojave Desert, which was pretty and, well...desert~y. The drive would have been a lot more palatable if I had been able to reliably use the cruise control without cars deciding to do silly things like slow down arbitrarily and change lanes in front of semis and the like.

About 3:30-4, we hit Vegas and checked into our hostel, the classy Hostel Cat, whose location was definitely underneath a sign that read, "Strippers," next to the "best" adult bookstore in Vegas, just down the street from "Precious Slut" tattoo parlor (as well as several other tattoo parlors), and across from two different wedding chapels. Vegas is just as classy as you might have imagined. Our hostel definitely felt the skeaziest of any that we've stayed in so far, but I really think that was a function of Vegas, more than anything else. Hostel Cat did a very good job of making sure that we were secure, and making sure that people (hookers) were not allowed in. We bummed around until just after 8, and then decided to hit the strip, since apparently it wasn't very far.


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To be fair, it wasn't. Comparatively. The Main strip was on the same street as Hostel Cat, but when you start out going several blocks in the wrong direction and then head all the way down to Caesar's Palace, it's something like 4 miles. We got shuttled through Treasure Island, and might have gotten a little lost until we eventually wound our way through to the outside. We wandered down the strip a bit more until we got to Caesar's Palace, and began our walk around and through the shops to the casino itself. We stopped off for a bite to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe (shameful, I know), and then hit the slot machines, which is to say that we put a couple of dollars in, I didn't know how to work them, and then we left to find a bus to take us back to the hostel.

If there's one thing that Vegas has going for it, it is definitely the public transit. We had the best bus driver ever, and though we overshot our stop a bit, it was a hell of a lot better than walking all the way back at midnight. We made it back to the hostel safely and once again, passed right out.

Day 10:


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