Day 76: Learning How to Photograph The Northern Lights

THE SECRET LIFE OF WALTER MITTY

I sure hope that I get a chance to actually see the northern lights (fingers crossed).  And, really, just seeing them will be enough for me… just like Sean felt about the elusive snow leopard:  Sometimes it’s more appropriate and meaningful to take the photo with your mind’s eye.

But I’m getting pressure from friends and family to bring home some epic footage, so I’ll try my best. Today my “first” is learning tips for how to capture the Northern Lights on film.

Tomorrow I leave, and then it’ll be a deluge of firsts. I’m thinking the last thing everyone needs is another travelogue of Iceland, so I’m trying to think of fun, even silly, ways to document my experience.  Stay tuned.

________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 75: Packing for Iceland

20140319-152359.jpg

On Thursday, I’m beginning the major goal of my “100 days of new experiences”– I’m heading to Iceland! Today is devoting to packing, and I can firmly say that while I’ve packed for many trips, I’ve never packed for Iceland…

________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 74: (Water) Walking D(r)ead

20140318-223910.jpg

 

In tandem with my adventure-filled walks [otherwise known as The Walking D(r)ead], today I tried water walking.

The main difference? You don’t sweat! Or, at least, you don’t know if you sweat, because it’s awfully hard to separate pool water from the water your body’s secreted. I know. Gross.

The other difference? I also feel sore all over–definitely more of a full-body workout, given the arm and leg resistance. Water, it turns out, resists almost as much as my kids when I tell them to practice piano.

20130926233258!Season_four_daryl_dixon

You know those nightmares where you are being chased by zombies and there’s no Daryl there to save you? When it kinda feels like you are running through molasses? That’s what water walking is like; that, with a twist of fashion-nightmare elements thrown in. To water walk, 0ne must don a large, unflattering floaty belt in hospital-scrubs blue.  All I needed were the blow-up “muscle” floaties with pictures of Mickey Mouse wrapped around my arms, and I would’ve resembled Benjamin Button at some point during his backward aging process.

Still, there’s no sweating involved. That’s a deal-maker. I am only willing to sweat in certain situations, and pretty much all of them involve my celebrity crushes.

________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

 

Day 73: Baking Gluten-Free

20140318-135402.jpg

I’ve been gluten-free for several months, now, but–not being a baker–I’ve avoided making my own stuff, instead buying off the shelf or from gluten-free bakeries.

I decided it was time to stop being lazy  try something new and to bake a gluten-free goodie.

I found a recipe for a Blueberry Crumble, which I followed except for the poppyseed part. I’m not a poppyseed fan; maybe it has to do with being traumatized by the poppy field scene in the Wizard of Oz; who knows? Anyway, here’t the recipe, with the outcome in the photo at the top (yes, that really is my crumble… or, should I say, crumble attempt).

It was actually pretty good! I can’t say that it was as delicious as a regular crumble, but it came close. And these days, that’s good enough for me.

Wild Blueberry Crumble (vegan & gluten-free)
Prep time
15 mins
Cook time
40 mins
Total time
55 mins
Author: Eatingbirdfood.com
Serves: 8
Ingredients
  • 2½ cups frozen wild blueberries (no thawing required)
  • 2-3 Tablespoons maple syrup
  • 1 Tablespoon arrowroot (or cornstarch)
  • 1 Tablespoon fresh lemon juice
  • 1 teaspoon vanilla
  • 1 cup old fashioned oatmeal
  • 1 cup oat flour
  • ⅓ cup coconut sugar
  • ¼ cup extra-virgin coconut oil, solid state, broken into chunks
  • ½ cup unsweetened cinnamon apple sauce
  • 1 teaspoon baking powder
  • ½ teaspoon salt
  • 1 Tablespoon poppy seeds (optional)
Instructions
  1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Line an 8 inch square pan with parchment paper.
  2. In a bowl, stir together the maple syrup, arrowroot, vanilla and lemon juice. Gently mix in the blueberries. Sit aside.
  3. In a medium bowl, stir together oatmeal, oat flour, coconut sugar, baking powder and salt. Add in apple sauce, stir. Then stir in coconut oil. Dough will be crumbly. Separate dough in half and press one half into the bottom of the prepared pan.
  4. Pour the blueberry mixture evenly over the crust.
  5. Stir poppy seeds into the remaining mixture of dough and crumble over the berry layer.
  6. Bake in preheated oven for 40 minutes, or until top crumbled pieces are slightly brown. Cool for about 20 minutes and serve.

________________________

Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 72: Passing an “I Find You Attractive” Note

20140318-132940.jpg

I totally pilfered this idea from elsewhere, but as soon as I saw it I knew I had to do it.

I wrote my note and stuffed it into my pocket.  This morning I had a meeting in the town next to mine, and this seemed like a safer opportunity to slip the note to a stranger.  I felt my palms grow sweaty as I tried to figure out how to pass the note.

There was an attractive man on the subway sitting across from me. Should I toss it in his lap as I rush out the door? (Assuming he isn’t getting off at the next stop with me).  The train rolled to a stop and I eyed him, felt the folded paper with my fingertips, and wimped out. I ducked out the door and didn’t look back.

My next opportunity was the waiter at the cafe.  Should I leave it with the tip? Oh, wait… I didn’t have cash, which meant I had to use a credit card: Can’t leave the note with any identifiers!

I passed a few attractive men as I was walking back to the subway. Too hard to pass the note, there. Not enough time to slip it to them and then to make my getaway.

There was a man sitting alone on a bench at the subway stop.  If he was getting on a different train than I, I could toss it to him right before I got on my train; if he was leaving first, I could toss it to him right as he got on his. Argh. Too complicated.

My train rolled in and before I climbed on I decided that I should stick with my first idea: Hand it to someone who looked like they were staying on the train as I was jumping off.  When I entered the car I saw a problem:  It wasn’t very full. This made me uncomfortable, because too many people would see what I was doing.

Dang, this passing-a-note thing was harder than I thought!

I got off at my appointed stop. I couldn’t give the note to anyone around here; what if I saw them again? These were my stomping grounds. It would be way too humiliating to run into him again. (Or, worse… he wouldn’t hand the note back to me, haha.)

I held onto the note until later in the day, when I had to drive about 8 miles to run an errand. While picking up coffee before I started the trek home, I noticed an attractive man sitting at the window counter near the door, deeply engrossed in whatever was on his computer (hopefully it wasn’t porn).

I took a deep breath.

As I walked out the door I slid the note near his computer, and then I bolte  limped as fast as I could into my car–which was, thankfully, practically in front of the door.

As I pulled out I looked in the window. He’d just opened the note. He looked up, a huge grin on the face, and he gave me a thumbs up.

Imagine what I could do if I were actually able to RUN– I’d probably be passing out notes to attractive men all day long.  Good thing for my husband all I can do is shuffle.

________________________

Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 71: Playing with Week Old Kittens

20140315-182136.jpg

Some “firsts” defy words.

It did leave me wondering why the heck it took me so long to experience something so sweet…

I should’ve followed Norman Reedus’ lead on this one long ago.

20140315-182605.jpg

_________________________

Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 70: Entering a Very Short Story Contest

hemingway

Based on a bet-winning short story by Hemingway,

For sale. Baby Shoes. Never worn.”

the Gotham Writer’s Workshop is sponsoring a Very Short Story Contest. Seems Hemingway was predicting the future, given the twitter-appropriate length of his missive.

The contest requirements? Ten words or less. I should be able to handle that commitment, right? Let’s just hope this doesn’t happen:

Ten words. My pen hovered. I doodled and then stopped.

Haha. Anyway, if I can’t complete a story of this length, I’ve got no business writing at all… which is probably the case, regardless…

_________________________

Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

 

 

 

Day 69: Getting a Groupon Headshot

camera

With my blathering on about acting, etc., a friend told me if I was serious about trying to become an extra I would have to get a headshot (read: a photo where they erase all the bad and enhance any good. They’ll be doing a lot more erasing than enhancing).

When she first suggested it, I checked out some local photogs and their prices. Ain’t no way I’m dropping that kind of money for a photoshopped pic of myself that no one will look at anyway…

Groupon, on the other hand, may have saved the day.  When I saw a coupon for a headshot for $25, how could I not buy it? So, ok…I’m thinking that means I only have 1/4 of my flaws erased and maybe nothing enhanced, but for purposes of being picked for an extra that’s probably good enough, right?

It’s definitely a “first” to purchase a Groupon for a headshot.  Now let’s hope the actual picture, once taken, is enough to allow me to, say, become a zombie that in less than a second gets killed by and falls on Mr. Dixon or even Rick. I’d be ok with that.

_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 68: Priming and Painting…Eyelashes

EyeLashGraphic3_1200x900

I gotta tell you, the last thing I had on my mind this morning was eyelash tinting.  Does, in fact, anyone have eyelash tinting, ever, on their minds?

But as I sat at my coffee shop alternating between working, re-watching clips of Daryl staring lovingly at Beth, and trying to think of something new to do for today’s experience, I noticed in the window of the hair salon across the street a sign that said seemed to proudly declare, “Eyelash Tinting Here.”

It was like a sign. No, it WAS a sign. Literally and figuratively.

Plus, remember my recent doings with my ‘do? Now that it’s darker to match my soul, makes sense for my eyelashes to match my hair. The fringe has got to match the quilt or something like that, right?

So in I went. They told me all the warnings of going blind and having my eyelashes fall out, but I still couldn’t think of anything else to do for my “first” so I figured, what the heck?

I went in and laid down on this leatherette table covered with white paper. At that point I wasn’t sure if I was getting an eyelash tint or spleen exam.  The woman put some Vaseline around my eyes and then some sort of cotton pad, then painted on the tint. I had to wait about 20 minutes, so I traveled to a happy place in my mind where I was getting an eyelash tint while holding hands with Coop as he gets his perm.

bradley-cooper-1-600x450

When it was over, I stared at my reflection in the mirror she handed me. My eyelashes did look darker, more intense. Hmmm….seems like just a short hop from here to a tattoo.  With my current TV and film obsessions, I’d hate to see what I would walk out with…

_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

 

 

Day 67: Walking D(r)ead

the_walk_app

Remember my post about training for a 5k? It’s hard to try to run in cold, icy conditions when you’re a gimp, so I figured I’d try to keep the momentum by walking. (When I’m ready to pound the pavement again I might invest in the Zombies, Run! 5k training app. It’s supposed make working out fun by telling stories of how your life is about to end with zombies gnawing at your heels. Makes sense.)

In the meantime, I downloaded the Walk app, which, sadly does not focus on zombies (which would allow me to daydream about Daryl); instead, there are a variety of adventures that incorporate you as part of the storyline. By meeting certain distance milestones, you unlock another story installment.

It did make for some goal-oriented walking, as I stared at my screen while watching a little icon that mirrored my speed make its way around the course. (I am wont to dreading exercise, so every type of motivating device helps…or can’t hurt, anyway.) The story I listened to was not particularly compelling, though I like the idea of being entertained while sweating.  I’ve never worked out to an app before.

In thinking about it, I’m considering asking a friend to make a homegrown app. Maybe he could record bits and pieces of some good Walking Dead or Game of Thrones fanfiction. I’ll reward myself with a snippet every so often, hitting play if I feel I’m working hard enough and denying myself when I’m slacking off. Maybe he will even substitute my name for one of the characters while he’s recording.  I would walk for miles to hear my name and Daryl’s or Jon Snow’s in the same sentence…

If you’ve got some good fanfic stories to recommend, lemme know…

________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 66: Having an “I Shoulda Listened to Daryl” Moment

20140309-230852.jpg

Well, Daryl and I (and a bunch of friends) had our moonshine date.  It was during the episode titled…sniff…”Alone.”

Knife in eye = 1 shot
Head lopped off= 2 shots.
Each time Beth said something about how good people are = 3 shots. [Note: We quickly abandoned this one; otherwise we would’ve been out cold in about five minutes].

I won’t lie: Our moonshine was frilly girly stuff, and although it was strong, it was smooth and spicy. I’m sure it wasn’t anything like the turpentine Bethy drank out of a Bell jar.

20140309-231120.jpg

It sure made watching, er, int’restin’, though. We were fully prepared to leave our spouses when Daryl asked his little farmer’s daughter to sing him to sleep, though his little vampiric sleeping-in-a-coffin thing made us a little nervous…

…as did Beth’s loud piano playing. She sure was quick last week to shush Mr. Dixon when he raised his voice a bit complaining about his lack of a pet pony growing up; yet, somehow this week pounding on the keys was ok?

And I think I blacked out for a spell when Pookie collapsed with fatigue and grief…at a set of crossroads, no less. On the wrong side of the tracks.  I should’ve been there to soothe his soul. Moonshine in hand…

Anyhow, remember in “Still” when Beth is downing the booze and Daryl warns her to drink lots of water?

Man, I shoulda listened to him, there. Although the stuff we slurped isn’t that of hillbilly lore, it WAS strong. Very. My skull is already throbbing with a headache of epic proportions. But I ain’t never drank no moonshine afore, and this here blog’s all ’bout “firsts.” So it’s all good…yes, all verrrry…ZZZZZZZzzzzzzz.

________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 65: Learning Icelandic

godafoss-aurora-iceland_65568_990x742

Tomorrow is a big night, what with the True Detective finale and my moonshine date with Mr. Dixon.

So I figured I should find a useful way to pass the time…and I realized, hey, wait a minuteI’m go in’ to Iceland soon! I don’t have to live my life vicariously through my TV and film “family” anymore. I have my own life! With my own adventures!

That’s right, Bradley! No more fantasizing about running through the streets with you at my side.

Take THAT, James Franco–I won’t spend one more second wondering why you ignore my posts.

And, YOU, Norman…I’ve officially quit daydreamin’ ’bout climbin’ on the back of Daryl’s bike with him…you…him. Whatever.

Ok, wait! Wait! I was just kidding! Ignore that! I do care, I do! I really do! And, Daryl-Pookie, dang it, I DO want a ride on the back of that chopper witcha!

Still, it is true that I do have some semblance of a real life, and I *am* going to Iceland. So what better way to fill the time until I flick on the telly than by learning a few phrases in prep for my trip? I can assure you I’ve not attempted to speak any Icelandic before.

“How to” videos are all over the place, so it wasn’t very hard to find ones to teach me some conversation tidbits.

Luckily for me English is spoken by just about everyone, because as I was practicing I realized I sounded like the Swedish Chef from Sesame Street.

__________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 65: Making (Adult) Snow Angels

20140308-233234.jpg

Ok, this is a bit of a cheat, considering I have technically made snow angels before…but never as a full-fledged adult. And never as an adult recovering from spinal cord surgery.

Given that it took me about 20 minutes to get down and at least twice that long to get up, I think it counts as an official “experience.”

Once lying in the snow I was actually quite comfortable; truthfully, at that point I was more tempted to take a long nap than to windmill my arms and legs to make the angel.

But I was committed to my goal, and I did it.

It was not without incident, however. A neighbor who glimpsed me lying there ran out and–convinced that I’d fallen and couldn’t get up–was poised to call 911.

An old woman walking her dog failed to notice that Rover nearly mistook me for a fire hydrant.

And I caught my husband speaking over the phone to a family member in hushed tones. I was just able to make out a few words; they sounded frighteningly similar to, “chemical imbalance” and “medical intervention.” One snippet of conversation I definitely caught was, “supremely bored.”

And if you’re thinking that this is a pretty darn pathetic experience to write about, have heart. I’ve already procured my moonshine, so I am primed for a real danged good first experience during my Sunday Walking Dead Drinkin’ With Daryl game… So stay tuned.
____________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 64: Dying Dark

20140308-230648.jpg

You know what they say…Blondes have more fun, and and all that.

Well, given that I’m rather proud that I’m not one to have too much fun, I decided there was only one way to go, hair-hue wise: Dark.

My natural hair is best described as the color of diluted puke. You know, the brownish-orangey scum that floats on the toilet water surface after a good hurl.

Over the years I’ve gone blonder (and, yes, had more fun, if fun is considered someone sidling up and asking if the “curtains match the rug”), redder (a different kind of fun, if you count being called “a pistol” as a good time) and a normal chestnut-y sun kissed brown (no fun, but lots of moms who wanted to fix me up with their sons).

Needing a new experience to chronicle, I used the opportunity to go where I’ve never gone before: dark.

I didn’t go pure black, which is a good thing because sooner or later someone would’ve charged me with a wooden stake and waved garlic bagel chips in my face. Life woulda been one big Bride of Dracula or Alice Cullen joke.

But I did go a very, very, very dark brown. Think dirty motor oil brown.

People’s reactions have been less than favorable. I’m pale enough that I still had a few individuals make crosses in my direction with their forefingers. One kid yanked on his dad’s pant leg and whispered, “will it bite me?”

A so-called friend looked me up and down and said—after a very pregnant pause—simply, “Huh.”

Another unsolicited gem: “I’m sure it’ll wash out. Some day.”

Seriously?

I mean, I thought I’d get at least one appreciative whistle and a, “Wow, that’s dramatic!”

Instead, I got more along the lines of, “Wow, that’s traumatic!”

Really?

Personally, I, um, think my attempts at fiction and poetry are much more traumatic than my new ‘do.

But maybe the folks who commented on my hair haven’t read my pathetic attempts at creative writing. If they had, they might’ve been a little kinder about my motor oil mop.
_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 63: Attempting Poetry

bar

tabletop, weathered oak

a leather menu lands

unopened

i stare across at you, hunger absent

save for an understanding of

what

went

wrong.

_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 62: Making (Moonshine?) Snow Ice Cream

20140305-223117.jpg

Growing up in a place where snowstorms were frequent, it never crossed my mind to try something like this. Snow was something to be grudgingly shoveled and tossed aside, not the subject of a Food Network episode…particularly because we had dogs frolicking and doing other things in the snow, if you know what I mean.

Fast forward a number years (that number will remain undefined), and here I am, eating snow…and rather enjoying it. It’s most certainly better than eating crow, literally and figuratively.

The kids found a recipe online and– bring the resourceful, non-dog-owning creatures they are–they were eager to run out and scoop some fresh snow into a bowl. (I didn’t want to spoil the fun and point out how, living in the middle of a city, the snow was probably brimming with environmental toxics and filth they couldn’t see. I didn’t want to be a complete killjoy. Everything in moderation, right?)

Ingredients
8 cups snow
1 can sweetened condensed milk
vanilla extract
Directions
Gather snow in bowl. Add can of condensed milk and vanilla to taste. Mix. Serve.

I briefly considered packaging it and selling it as organic artisan ice cream made from locally grown ingredients (as in, snow from our stoop). But I figured I’d stop while I was ahead. Making and eating snow ice cream is a “first,” and we’ll leave it at that.

Unless, hmmm… Snow Moonshine Ice Cream (Carl, man, forget puddin’; Daryl and me got us some fiiiine moonshine!)…now *that* may be a good business decision and lead to a whole other trajectory of “firsts”…


_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 61: Drinkin’ Moonshine with Daryl

Image

After watching “Still,” the Walking Dead episode where Daryl dishes about his pre-turn existence (or lack thereof) and Beth expresses her fantasies about him being a prison guard, I became interested in their potent potable of choice: Moonshine.

As much as I’d like to say I hopped in a pickup and drove through the deep woods and found me a dilapidated cabin housing some darling Daryl proxies and a booze distillery, who has the energy for that? Besides, I’m not in the mood for being arrested today.

Instead, I did a little research online, and it turns out that one can buy moonshine, legally, online.

So, naturally, I did! Needless to say this is a “first,” but not as big a “first” as it will be when I down it…write about it…and pass out (hopefully in that order).

Stay tuned…

_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 60: Taking a Snow Day in the Sun

20140304-133152.jpg

While everyone back home is holed up courtesy of the latest storm, due to a fortuitous work trip I’m enjoying my snow day among the palm trees.

This is the first time I’ve been “stuck” in a tropical place because of weather; usually it happens the other way around, where I’m trying to get away from the cold and get snowed in.

These kinds of first experiences I could handle on a more regular basis!
_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 59: Running on Empty

point_exxon

I’ve always secretly wanted tempt fate in this way…that is, as long as someone else was with me to walk to the nearest gas station. Anyway, running on empty wasn’t intentional. A friend and I were driving in the middle of nowhere, lack of cell phone reception, and mile after mile stretching before us without any indication of a petrol stop.

We asked our intelligent car, “Where the ^*&^€%#; is a gas station?!”

The car just shrugged in response, its needle dipping lower and lower. The electronic readout read one mile until empty.

Yet the car chugged on.

We giggled nervously until the GPS screen automatically switched from a map to the ominous emergency screen which said, essentially, “OMG! Like, seriously, you HAVE. NO. GAS! OMG!”

At that point our euphoria at living on the edge turned to dread. If we continued to have cell phone problems, what would we do? Neither of us was keen on walking an unknown distance… Would we hitchhike? Yes! We probably would. We’d stick out our thumbs and we’d…

Friend: Wait, wait…that wouldn’t set a very good example for our kids. We can’t do that!

Me: Well, do you want to leave the car and walk? I’m not walking. We can’t separate. We have to stay together.

Friend: You’re right. The buddy system! Using the buddy system important to demonstrate to the kids. We’ll use the buddy system…as we hitchhike. If we die, we’ll die together. 

With that settled, we looked at each other and smiled (the friend and I, not the car and I. The car wanted nothing to do with me after what I was putting it through).

It was hard, at that moment, not to channel the classic Seinfeld clip.

Exhilaration filled us! This is it! We were going ALL. THE. WAY!

We locked hands, ala Thelma and Louise.

THELMA AND LOUISE

And just then, after rounding a corner, we spied it in the distance: A lonely, glittering Exxon sign.

I’d like to say we rolled in and the car stalled right in front of the pump…but the truth is, we drove up and parked right by it just fine.

Still, we lived life on the edge! We taunted the Universe, dared it…and, dang it, we prevailed.

_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.

Day 58: Doing the Weekly Photo Challenge

20140302-112430.jpg

This is the first time I’ve done one of the wordpress photo challenges.  This is a picture of an abandoned movie theatre poster window in NYC.

I love the little bits of paper, they give glimpses into the past…rings in the center of a tree.

_________________________
Each day of 2014, I’m forcing encouraging myself to have at least one new experience (and chronicling it to keep it real). If you’re interested in why–though I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone would be that bored–check out the “about” page.