Amber's Blog Game: Oculine

CONCEPT

"Let me try to give a schematic plan, with just a few snapshots...because I'm sure I couldn't summon up all of the magical millions of moments, and then headcreep, well, you might be disappointed that I'd left something out. :) I assure you, I'm appreciative of it all. I just want to be moderately attentive to my audience's patience. Also, some things are just ours, you know?

Chris drove all the way from Maryland, only to pick me up and ferry me to New Mexico, back to Chicago, and then roll back to Maryland on his lonesome. I may as well dote, since that's just stupendous...and he really scripted the oozingly beautiful thing we shared.

We/he drove the whole way...through Missouri (gawwwwwd...Meramec Caverns, anyone?), Oklahoma (how many Red Rock's ARE there in the US?), Texas (Kenny!!!), and New Mexico. We slept in cheap motels, a gloriously welcoming guest pad at the aforementioned dude's, and one very much-loved, Jeff-colored, and bandy-legged tent. I can lie in bed, still, looking up at my ecru ceiling, and recall, in half-sleep, the roof of the tent fluttering over my head, and the feel of Chris's
warm self sleeping next to me...and hogging all of the blankets! :D

But that's okay, because I made him drive me to the campground's "facilities" in the middle of the night.

Missouri was long. And St. Louis can suck it. It's just like Indianapolis, except that some people deludedly believe that it's cool. The arch was neat, in a sort of "objects can confront us, and leave us out, blah blah high modernism" kind of awesome way. The arch can stay. The rest of Missouri should black hole out of existence, pinching the earth, and drawing me one gynormous state closer to the
windswept, western expanse.

We spent a day in Oklahoma. There were Red Rocks and swampy, dried-up ponds to look at from a few trails...and racing molds that had infiltrated the you-are-not-allowed-here vista over the state park! It was hot and bright and dry...and we ate breakfast at Zona's! Zona's was the -real- deal, and, I should mention, a bizarre parallel to my own Zelma's in Indy. Same weird booths and faux grain tables, same
big-hair, crusty waitresses and their daughters ordering AND cooking your food, and [!EXCITEMENT!] same squirt-butter for your toast. :)

The place brought the grammatical plural of "hashbrowns" into question by serving us each one greasy, brown briquette. Woohoo! I loved it.

Texas was remarkable, too (okay, Kenny, you were right), and was where we spent the most time. Amarillo kind of blew (especially when the fantastic looking, pan-Asian cafe was mysteriously well-lit and staffed, but locked, during lunch...and when the thrift store blew blue chunks), but Lubbock was as sweet as was promised...it's like
Indianapolis, too, only it IS cool. We were, I repeat, happily hosted and toasted...I had the privilege of meeting some very Special friends of Kenny's, as well as his father, and another... and seeing the spaces! In case you couldn't tell, this was a big deal...and very, Very happy-making. :) We spent an evening munching some objectionable Vietnamese food and visiting new and old friends, and the next day we made some ruckus at a Goodwill. I hotsed up in a ratty old wig that
matched my natural color eerily, and Chris dressed his way into an upcoming cameo on That 70's Show (narrative hyperbole--pay it no mind). I let myself be talked out of buying a pink ballet dress. The universe is thankful.

After bidding bittersweet good-bye to my long gone friend (!), we hied to the Carlsbad Caverns...but not before driving by the GYNORMOUS CROSS one more time. Oh. Dear. God. :D There's this huge, gray, sheet metal and steel cross out in the middle of nowhere--"biggest cross in the Western hemisphere." And it's got a monument to all of the unborn victims of abortion! It's a tombstone with little copper hands extending a little copper fetus! And there's a freestanding, near-life
sized statue of Christ, weeping over a fetus in his outstretched palms, too!!! I cannot exclaim enough! Just go see it. Do it. It's incommunicable, the wonder.

The caverns were cool, winding, and long...and covered in bat shit! Wow, it reeked. I'm assuming that the rest of spectators were unaware of this, since I was the only one shouting in horror. :) We saw some neat SPELEOTHEMS, and listen to some annoying babies wail...and got indignant as people kept ruining the natural phenomena with their flash cameras...and then couldn't keep ourselves from photographing a fantastic, tit-shaped stalagmite rising from the ground. It was such a tit! I wanted to go caress it or something. :D Well, it WAS. I have
the picture to prove it.

White's City is annoying. Yargh. But caves are cool...especially ones with a freakish underground cafeteria and gift shop hewn into their very core. Wow! :) I stole a postcard, since no one was around to ring it up for me.

AND THEN. WHoa, Nelly, and then. Things got beautiful. I saw the kind of nights that schmucks paint onto plates and sell in flea markets (with a wolf on them, as I remarked to Chris, with the happy result of his amusement...but now that I reflect, it was probably a coyote). ...and scrub! So much scrub, and cactaceae! It was hard to tell whether the plants were all dead or just really, really mean. :) They were delightfully ornery. The vastness was familiar, thanks to an Indiana childhood...familiar, but like your best friend's dad is familiar. You know the little version well enough to not be surprised by the big one...but it IS bigger. :D

And we climbed a mountain. ! Not THE mountain.. 'cause we were idiots, and didn't realize that it takes a day, not an afternoon, to climb a friggin mountain. But we did get to top of a mountain NEXT to the famed Guadeloupe Peak (highest friggin hump in Texas). It was a long, hair-pinny trek to the top, full of lots of neat stuff to stare at whenever you didn't want to admit that you were stopping 'cause you were exhausted. :D Also, well, it really was stunning. And stunningly dangerous! I was terrified one of us (Chris) would trip over a rock, tumble over the side, and meet the other a long walk down and many years later. But we made it--made it a 3rd of the way through the trail, that is, having had to hurry and turn back in order to save enough daylight for the climb down. We got just far enough to taste mountain air--to feel the spiky brambles and brushes bow to the pine trees and cool air. It was so clean, and quiet enough to hear the old hikers a few legs of the trail away (they were probably 3 times our age, and were coming down from the top! :) we suck). The hawks still flew overhead, though. We climbed to where we could see from one side of the face all the way across the plains... and turned on the trail to look over the valley, populated by the only trees within, well,
some unit of land measurement too great for me to muster. It was bounded by sheer, straight cliff, shaping the sky. We could see so far! :) And man, were we proud. And happy. Much hugging was shared, and much regret at the inadequacy of our one disposable camera. It was dizzying up there, but steadying too. I wish I hadn't had to come down.

But down was lovely too...particularly down on the ground, under a tent and a mountain of blankets...in flannel pjs and near-solitude. Solitude WITh somebody.

We made a joy of the return, too. :) The car, for instance, presented a moment of comedy and comedic disgust. It stank to the high heaven. We thought, for a day or two, that it just our socks...until the unbearableness of the situation demanded action. At that point, a suspicion of mine was confirmed and alleviated ... thankfully by Chris, rather than myself. A cooler whose ice had melted, probably, the second day of the week-long trip, still contained the block of cheese it had held since the beginning. Not only was there rotting cheese stinking up the car...but there was rotting cheese WATER. The water hadn't drained, but had made a little bath tub of the cooler for the soaking cheese...which Chris thankfully drained while I waited in the car...writing a surprise message for him on his visor, which I ended up pointing out to him anyway. :P [happy sigh]

Also, we ate at a place called the No Whiner Diner...although its second sign called it The Whiner Diner. Go fig. And Chris played Ninja Gun. Twice! In two different places! And we drove through Roswell! and stopped in a bike store! that had old Schwinns! and an "oldebikes" t-shirt with a logo whose wheels wittily poked fun at the boobies beneath it!

All in all, it was a great success. One couldn't ask for more...as unforgettable, perfect, spiritual experiences go. Which reminds me! On our exhausting way up the mountain, as I fretted for my small amount of water (which, incidentally, I did a lot during the trip, originating the "I need to pee" joke which is really only a joke between me and one other person, but which will become fabulously well-known once I get my tee-shirt...>:)), we found... can you believe this... SERENDIPITOUS WATER. There, just waiting for us a few steps off the trail, was an unopened plastic jug, full of water. :) You see?

The whole trip was magical.

So. There you go. :) I had a real spring break.

cheers!

amber