A few weeks ago, on a beautiful Saturday morning, my dogs and I were up early. I like to take them for walks along one lakefront parks when it’s a really beautiful morning – so the boys and I hurried out the door to our favorite spot along the lake. We arrived to find it closed – some sort of carnival was happening there. And though it was still early morning, and there wasn’t a carnie in sight, the parking lot was closed to traffic. There was no way I could get anywhere near the park.
So, down the lakeshore road we go, past the huge mansions along the lake, a bit further out of town.
I stopped at the next park, not really known for nice walking paths but it would do. It was a beautiful morning and not too many people where out. I was surprised.
The dogs and I circled the park a few times and then headed back to the car.
That’s when a man tried to get me to come over to his car.
He had rolled down his window and he was trying to wave me over. I shook my head, ‘no’ and kept walking. Also, I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
And then, he started to get out of his car, telling me that he needed my dog(s) to save his marriage or something like that. He may have been crying. He may have looked at tad bit homicide. Again, I couldn’t understand him exactly -something about he was just going to take my dogs home so he wouldn’t get divorced – but knew it was headed down a crazy road in the high-speed lane fast so I got to my car, a few parking spots away from him, and put the dogs safely in. I hurried and got into my car and the man got back into his car. I was going to leave but then realized that this man could follow me home.
So, I called the police.
By the time the police showed up, I was pretty upset. And I was mad at myself to even have allowed myself to get sucked into a conversation with some weirdo (but you know, you’ve met me). The idea of this man watching my dogs and I and the idea of someone stealing my dogs seriously freaked me out. The man was gone when the police arrived, his car was still there – one police officer was taking my statement, a few other ones were heading to the beach to look for the man. I just wanted to get home so once the police officer told me I could leave, I was out of there fast. I will never be going back to that park, in case anyone wondered.
So I was trying out Skype for the first time with a photo studio on the other side of the country. It was better than getting on an airplane and having to fly in to approve one shot when I was very proud to have successfully figured out how to a conference call. “Wow, and just like that we are doing a three-way.” I said.
There was silence on the other end of the phone.
Apparently, it means something else.
So… You’ve met me.
Monday night, I a huge thunderstorm, I was putting the dogs in the car to head home from Mom’s after work (and grandma doggy day care). The rains where heavy and the wind strong. I picked up one dog from the safety of Mom’s attached garage and rand with him in my arms to the car. I to saw him onto the from seat and turned around to get the other one when I was hit with the car door. I saw stars. And, of course, there was a dog at my feet who couldn’t wait to get in the car and left the safety and protection of the garage.
I put him in and wondered if my head was bleeding and if I needed to straight to the ER.
Long story short, I decided to head home and put ice on my head. After all, there was no blood.
I home, thought I thought I might pass out from the pain, I convinced myself it wasn’t so bad. And the ice seemed to help.
A few days later, my head not hurt if I touched it.
And now, nearly a week later, I have a bruise in the shape of an “L” across my forehead.
That’s right, a giant L, for loser, on my forehead.
Have you met me?
Maybe, when someone showed me that sign back in high school, they weren’t being mean but were somehow channeling the future, warning me of bruises to come, saying ‘you’re going to have a bruise here. Be careful.’
What makes this all better is this week I am traveling through Chicago and eastern PA. With a giant loser bruise on my forehead.
Because, you know, you’ve met me.
A few highlights from the most recent vacation:
Savannah was nice and lovely but then, we made our way to Charleston and it so, so, so much more lovely and breathtaking that Savannah was a distance memory.
Tybee Island is a sh!thole. I won’t ever need to go back there.
Hilton Head Island is another place I never need to go back to. It was the total opposite of Tybee. It was upscale, gated and exclusive. The poor common traveler (like yours truly) wasn’t able to even get to the ocean. I guess if you are into golfing, it would be an ok place. But that’s not who I am.
Mytrle Beach was much, much, much nicer than excepted. Well, maybe it was North Myrtle Beach.
With that said, I wish we had kept count of the important sights like:
Places that sold fireworks
Storefronts with things like giant sharks you had to enter through.
Asheville, NC was so amazingly beautiful. I want to go back in the fall.
We didn’t see the Biltmore Estate in Asheville. We just ran out of time. See, the truth is we had a few hours to kill and were hoping for just a grounds pass to stroll around the estate (like you do). They only offer an all-inclusive pass for $60/day. It just was not worth us to pay that kind of money for an hour or two.
No worries though, we hit up the gift shop and were able to get some wine.
Another reason to go back.
Also, the mountains around there = amazing.
And the town itself was cool too.
When in Charleston, we were able to do a tour with the dogs. Yes. that’s right. The dogs went on the tour bus with us. They did great.
I wasn’t prepared for the accent differences. Honestly, one day, I was sitting on a bench in Charleston with the dogs, waiting for my mother to return from her bathroom search. A nice man sat down next to me and began talking. I had no idea what he was saying. None. Seriously, none.
And to make it even better, I wasn’t sure if this man was drunk or just Southern. The same thing repeated in Savannah. And in Hilton Head.
I don’t really know if I can call all of this a vacation. It was really more of a road trip and scouting trip for vacations to come. But it was good to get-away.
My mother, the Diva, kept a travel journal. Hopefully she will type it up and we can share it here. Edited, of course.
Is it too late to become a contortionist ? Watching Americas Got Talent
From my mother. Of course.
“I see you didn’t manage to find any lipstick.” said my mother this morning, when I dropped the dogs off. It had been awhile since my dogs had seen my mother and they were super excited, their tails wagging as they ran into her bedroom to greet her, still in bed.
“I was gone two weeks and nothing changed.” said my mother.
I rolled my eyes. “Goodbye.” I said.
On the road today, I saw a white Toyota with personalized plates. “GOD” it read.
God is driving a Toyota. And is a black woman.