Monday, September 28, 2009

I went to Arizona. This is what I did.

I was about halfway between civilization and Blythe on my drive out to Arizona for a weekend of fun with Cynde when I realized that I had to pee. This is a horrible realization when you're in a car in the desert and the mile markers tell you that you're still 60 miles away from a bathroom. Oh, it's horrible. So I did the only thing I could think of. I drove 90 mph and sang at the top of my lungs. Because singing really loud always distracts me. And I desperately needed distracting from the impending explosion of my bladder. I sang Abba, and Neil Diamond and a lot of hymns but those only got me 30 miles closer and then panic started setting in. What if my bladder actually does explode? How can I tell if it's about to happen. Will there be a warning? Should I pull over? Which is worse, my bladder exploding or peeing on the side of the highway? I imagined myself getting knocked over by a tumbleweed and how embarrassing would that headline be, "Girl Killed by Rogue Tumbleweed While Peeing." Twenty miles from Blythe and I was contemplating my death.

Then suddenly, rising from the desert floor, a beacon of hope! A sign that said "Rest stop - next exit." I nearly wept, except that I was too busy cutting semis off to get to the exit. Never before had a fly infested stinky brick building looked so beautiful.

That's just one of the highlights. Here are some more:

1.) Staying up until 3am playing Guitar Hero. Some people can do this without any adverse effects. I can't stay up past 10 reading a book without waking up in the morning in tears. Which is to say, I am not one of those people. But I do rock the guitar.

2.) Learning more than I ever wanted to know about the band Kiss. Cynde has a friend who knows all sorts of Kiss-tory. (You'll be thrilled to know that I didn't just make that term up. He used it several times. In all seriousness. It was awesome.)

3.) Falling in love with the percussionist of Pink Martini. It is not very often that a drum solo will move me enough to propose but I almost did. I could go on tour with them and polish cymbals back stage and my life would be complete.

4.) Eating my weight in cheese. We somehow managed to stuff ourselves with all sorts of cheese over the weekend. We ate cheese in the hallway of a swanky restaurant that we were not actually patronising while the wait-staff walked by and stared (Long story. I will just say that it was a very typical Rachel & Cynde Adventure. Someday a movie will be made about all the awkward/hilarious moments we've had together), we ate cheese for breakfast, we sampled cheese at Costco, at a dinner party on Saturday night we ate goat cheese laced with figs that, were it socially acceptable, I would have shoveled into my mouth with my bare hands.

5.) The long solitary road trip. Who's with me on this? Driving by yourself for hours is so fun. You can listen to whatever you want, you don't have to stop for anyone else, and when you want peace and quiet you just stop talking to yourself.


The Katzbox said...

Rachel, this is a fabulous post. I related to this on so many levels, it's transcendent.

yes, long, solo road trips are therapeutic to my way of thinking. Talk about freedom to choose....YOWSA!!!! you get to pick the music, the rest stop, the restaurants, the conversation, the whole pickle-you get it. You're the boss. SCORE!

Cheese! Puhleese! Slap my mom and call me shirley. It's the best ever. Considering what it is and the fact that I abhor milk, it's the most mysterious part of my personality to me. Not really, there's weirder things about myself, but the fact that I will sell my children for's just a pleasure to even write the word, "cheese"<----look at it....all good and it.

My adorable step son is a drummer...they put off an energy that is crazy, wicked cool....

And the guy that designed Ace Freley's exploding guitars back in the day?...he's a personal hero of mine....John Elder Robinson. HERO!!! But not because of Kiss, because of who he is. His book, "Look Me In the Eyes" is a personal favorite.

Okay, well, obviously I adored this post. I should leave room for others...*sigh*...

Have a great rest of the day/night/week.

Stephanie said...

My daughter once needed to pee at the same point that you needed to pee. Except I was the meanest mommy on the planet and told her to hold it (she peed before we left, her bladder wouldn't have exploded). She cried for 45 minutes before we met up with the rest stop. I was really trying to figure out if I should teach her how to pee on the side of the road or if I should just wait for a dirty potty to appear.

I think I could have handled my bladder exploding better than that 45 minutes of my daughter's whining/crying.

colleeeen said...

Good thing no ketchup bottle lids went a-flying on that stretch of the I-10; they are dangerous to bladder control.

Solo road trips are divine. Back in 2000, I did a circuit through Zion, Bryce, Capitol Reef, Lake Powell, etc. It was transcendent. Too bad I had kids, it will be quite a few years more before I can do anything of the kind again. ;)

Rach said...

Ah. A road trip alone. That would be fantastic. I spend a lot of time in the car with the kids, straining my ears to hear and understand Jacob's quiet chatter, which is difficult because Tyler is busy either screaming or making dinosaur noises in his carseat. And all I want to do is listen to some music and meditate. I just may snap and hop in the minivan alone on a Saturday and drive to your house.

I love cheese.

The whole drive to Kansas is 60 miles from the bathroom. We usually put Jacob in a Pullup because he thinks peeing on the side of the road is fun, so he tells us he has to pee every 5 miles. I'm glad your bladder didn't explode.

Anna said...

I have family out in Ohio (I'm 16 hours away in Nebraska) and yes, some of the best times I had were driving back and forth by myself. Music cranked, yelling along to the songs, etc. - loved every minute.

Andrea said...

You've now made me want to watch "What About Bob?".

Rach said...

Me again. I totally forgot about Kiss. So, they performed in the SLC Olympic closing ceremonies, and I was in the Olympic orchestra, and Gene Simmons was backstage during rehearsals, hanging out in leather pants and no shirt, chatting with the guy handing out the crappy outdoor instruments. I got so close I could have reached out and pulled his chest hair, of which there was an abundance. The makeup really does help make their band more impressive. Otherwise, they're just a bunch of old guys wearing leather pants with bad hair.

Taylor Family said...

Solitary road trips for me means going to the grocery store by myself:) BUT, I do sing at the top of my lungs the whole way there and back again! And I always buy cheese!