1237

i have this weird-ism about myself and the number 1237. i developed it in high school when i went to my first (and only!) traditional high school "party." i use the quotations because i was way too much of a goody-goody to actually drink or anything else that went on there that night.

i think the house number might have been 1237....? Or it ended at 12:37....? i don't actually remember now. But i got it in my head that night that that number was portentous. Since then i have seen it everywhere. If i wake up in the middle of the night? It is garaunteed to be 12:37am. If i randomly glance at a clock in the afternoon... 12:37. It's the filing code on my Netflix movie, or the expiration time on a McDonald's cherry pie. Maybe it's no more common than any other number and i have just convinced myself for the last fifteen years that it's everywhere. Or maybe, just maybe... it'll be the day i die (1/2/37) or the address of my first home. Or the price of my next car! Or the time of my first [second] child's birth.

Who knows. i'm probably nuts.

It showed up again on Friday night. We dismissed early from school on Friday due to the blizzard (if any of you have been watching the Weather Channel lately) and i gleefully went home to a long weekend stuck inside with the excuse of not going anywhere. i would play with the cat, watch Red Dwarf, and eat Lean Cuisines (no cooking!). But on Friday night at exactly 12:37, as i was snuggling up in bed with a book and the pelting sleet drumming against the window, i heard a little beep in the hallway. It sounded like the smoke alarm, so i went to peek my head out the door and found a waterfall in the ceiling of my apartment building. It wasn't leaking into my unit, so i called the emergency maintenence and went back to bed. A little after 3, i woke up to the alarm blaring continually. i guess water had gotten into it or something. So i called again, and stayed awake. Who could sleep? Sao climbed up onto my shoulder as she always does the instant i sit on the couch, and we listened to the sleet and watched NBC, the only channel i could get on my new television.

By 8am, the alarm seemed to be slowing down in both tempo and pitch, and finally it went off. Ah, blissful silence. So i wandered back to bed and snuggled back in. Sao jumped up and joined me. We were two peas in a pod. Ten minutes later, the cable guy calls. Sleet has turned to snow and we now have 5 inches on the ground with blizzard conditions and new snowfall of about 2 inches/hour. i can't get the apartment maintenence men to come fix a celing that's leaking in no fewer than five places, including a light fixture. But the cable guy? He's there two hours early and raring to hook me up!

Now, i have never paid for cable in my life. But when my old TV broke and i had to buy a flatscreen, i could no longer get my broadcast channels via rabbit ears. So i broke down and asked for the most basic package, channels 2-22 which essentially covers the broadcast channels plus the Weather Channel (nice to have in Kansas, though i am discovering that the local guys do a much better job in a tornado situation) a few local public access channels, and two CSPANs! Seriously? Of all the cable channels i would have chosen, CSPAN would not have been one of them. Let alone two of them. CNN, sure. Discovery! Animal Planet. Nick at Night. Anything. Just not CSPAN. But i get two of them!

So the cable guy comes and goes, and i check out CBS, which i've never gotten here. Yes! It comes in. i can watch Big Bang without having to get a tape from our secretary. Now i can go back to bed in peace. It's 11am and great afternoon sleeping weather. So i crawled back into bed. i kid you not, folks... i kid you not... the moment i pulled the covers up to my face and got that happy little smile of a sleep deprived person about to succumb to the land of Nod... the alarm started going again.

And so went my weekend.

Sao, napping professional, hardly noticed...

Louisiana Part 3: Food and the Return

Louisianans eat some strange stuff...






So i figured i had better join in. On the way back through Alexandria, we stopped at this charming little restaurant called Tunk's Cypress Inn...


Tunk's sits right on the Kincaid Reservoir. The view is spectacular, and the atmosphere is wonderful. But their fame comes from the menu. They serve alligator here. So, when in Rome...



It was very good... tail meat, from what i'm told. They cut off the tails and then feed the rest of the body back to the other gators. Mmm.... Actually, i have came to find out that a lot of restaurants in Louisiana serve alligator. But these guys will give you a bumper sticker to brag about it!


We went back home through Shreveport and Dallas on 20, and then up 35 through Oklahoma. i was excited to see the Arbuckle Mountains, of which i had heard so much hype. So when we got there and saw a scenic overlook turnout, i took it. Here's the view:



Those are Arbuckle Mountain Cows, my friends... very rare species. ;) See those peaks in the background?!

We also went by Norman, and it was too late and mom was too tired to stop at the mega-Hastings (a books and movies store that i love but no longer get to much). We went by Blackwell, and mom was too tired to stop for the Chinese restauraunt (that i love but no longer get to at all). And we went by Wyldwood Cellars (a winery that i love... are you getting the pattern?) but they were closed for the day.

So i've decided that on the first Saturday of April i will make a tour of Lost Oklahoma Pleasures.

i sent mom home on the train today. It's always sad when she leaves. Sao is glad to have her bed back, though.

Louisiana Part 2: Louisiana Proper

The next morning we got up and drove the remaining 20 miles or so into Louisiana. i was so excited to get this last continental state!! As soon as we stopped, in a little town called Natchitoches (pronounced Nak-a-tush) i leaped from the car and set foot in my 48th state. Even that far north, there were swamps in every direction. Most of the roads are causeways!

From there we got off the highway onto Louisiana Route 1, which essentially follows the Red River southeast toward Alexandria. Most of the route looked like the way a horror movie would start (very reminiscent of the Bluff City trip). my mom was looking for the Bayou Folk Museum, which is located in Cloutierville (pronounced Cloot-cherville), a town worthy of Dueling Banjos...


...but we couldn't find the stately home of the author. Turns out, that was because it burned down five months ago, and when we finally figured out what this was, we were so disappointed. What a terrible loss to this community, and the state's history in general....


On to Colfax. Site of the Colfax "Riot," better known as the Colfax Massacre. my mom and brother were both trying to read the same book over Christmas. Turns out it was about this incident in Colfax, Louisiana. So we had to see it on our way to St. Francisville, which is right on the Mississippi River, and where we spent the largest amount of time.

Louisiana is beautiful. Absolutely stunning. i say that with two caveats:
1. i was there in March, not August.
2. i did not spend much time off the beaten path, in towns like Cloutierville.

There are swamps with knobby cyprus trees all over the place. Birds and flowers and huge old oak trees with lots of Spanish moss.




St. Francisville has a church at the center of town with a beautifully kept cemetary...




... and several lavish plantation homes around.

The Myrtles


Rosedown

Before we left St. Francisville to head back up North, we stopped into a little store called Grandmother's Buttons where they make jewelry out of antique buttons, and a local vinyard and winery where we both got bottles of Muscavine Wine... both of which are now gone.

Louisiana Part 1: Texas

i have now completed the Lower 48! Only Alaska and Hawaii left... though i am thinking those might be a ways off. (But who knows!?)

my mom came in on the train for our yearly spring break visit. i offered to drive up to Kansas City to pick her up so that she could check her luggage, but that left us in the truck until 1am on Sunday morning. We crashed hard. She had been traveling for twenty four hours, and i had been at the state chess tournament all day before the six hour drive.

[Chess season is now over. Our team took 8th place in the state of Kansas. Not too shabby.]

On Sunday we bummed around Wichita packing and playing with the cat, and watching my favorite show on DVD: Big Bang Theory. On Monday morning we went and picked up our rental car for the trip.



We made it as far as Marshall, Texas the first day and stayed in a Motel 6. (i have not sung the praises of Motel 6 since my Summer Solo Southwest Safari... let me say again, they are always cheap, always clean, and always dependable. i love Motel 6.)

my mother had never been in Texas, so this brought her State Count to 43. my brother is still lagging behind everyone else at 40. my dad got all 50 years ago.

But Texas was not our goal, so we pretty much blew through it. Here is what i remember about the Lone Star State: they love catfish. They have night and day speed limits.

Thinking about Emily

Last Friday, March 6th, was Emily's 6th birthday. Can you believe it? Six years.... Anyway, i come home on Friday, late, of course, as i am with the after school kids until 6pm and then at the gym until 7, and there's a note on the door from a local florist shop. And i think, who would send me flowers on Emily's birthday? Nobody has done anything like that since maybe her first birthday. The note said they had been left at the apartment office, and i realized that i was going to have to leave the chess tournament on Saturday to go get them or, given my schedule and the office hours, i was never going to get them. (Going to the bank, post office, or rental office when you work M-F 7am-6pm is really difficult.) So i get to the chess tournament and after the first round starts i tell the other coaches that i have to go pick up these flowers or they'll die between now and two weeks from now when the next time i'm avaiable to get them will be. The parents all twitter over me... "oh, are they from your ex boyfriend??" And i say no, i seriously doubt that, and try to slip out in the bustle of pairings.

When i got to the office, i found these...





They were from Chris and Shelly. It's so sweet of them to think of me on this day. And they truly are the most thoughtful people in the world. Shelly even remembered how i prefer plants to cut flowers, and they are still growing and blooming on my kitchen table today. (Although Sao likes to eat the leafy green part, and i have to keep spraying her with water to keep her discouraged.)

When i got back to the chess tournament, i hadn't even thought about the parents and their enthusiastic curiosity. i went into our team room and was immediately asked, "Well??" And then i'm thinking... oh, crud, what do i say? It's not like i can just tell all these people our story... it's not really professional, some of them don't even like me...

So i said they were from the new guy and tried to drop it.

i didn't make him up. There is, kind of, was, sort of, a new guy. i've been taking it pretty slow for several reasons, not the least of which is that it was just happening that way. Romance should be organic, and i am dealing with a major overanalyzer here. Not to mention on my end that i have only just marked five months of singlehood.

We have a standing Tuesday date, and have been seeing each other in a friendship/dating hybrid status for a couple months. So i felt like it was about time to sit down and tell him Chris, Shelly, Emily, my, and my family's story. i wanted to do it soon enough that if it was a deal breaker, i wouldn't feel like i had led him on, but after enough time that i felt comfortable crying in front of him because, let's face it, when i tell this story, even to this day, i bawl. Hell, i'm crying now as i type. But more importantly, we were getting to know each other, and it's impossible to really know me without knowing this part of my life. It shaped so much of who i am, even today. Not a day goes by that i don't think about her. And i'm sure it's a little puzzling to people who don't know, when something in some random conversation will set me off and i look momentarily depressed.

Anyway, so i was to meet him at his place on Tuesday and we walked over to a restaurant nearby. We ate and i was excited when we didn't linger afterward, as i wanted to get back to his apartment and sit down and have this conversation. But as we rounded the corner in front of his door, he says we're going shopping. Normally, this kind of spontaneous, casual task would be a blast. But i understood now that with this i wouldn't have enough time for my plan. So i shrugged it off and figured, well, next time. Later, we were standing in front of his fridge putting groceries away and there's a picture of one of his friends' kid, about seven, and i choked up, and felt like i didn't hide it well. So i told him that next time we saw each other i had a story i needed to tell him, and that we needed to leave enough time to tell it, and that i was going to cry. No more sidetracks, no more lost opportunities.

He was so curious that yesterday he sent me one of the most stinging emails i've ever recieved. Not only was i disappointed at the lack of patience, but it was terribly insulting. Paraphrasing, it went something like this: "I have some theories about your "secret." Did you kill someone in Vegas just to watch him die? [It was Reno, by the way, Ass....] Are you a kleptomaniac? Did you have kids but give them up for adoption?"

i wanted to charge over there and tell him what an ass i thought he was, but i would have missed my workout. So i just replied. Now, i realize that he was attempting to be funny. And i know that some people just don't get it. In fact, i realize that anyone who has never had to walk away from their child just doesn't get it. It's not a pain that you can really put words to. The only thing that i can imagine being worse is losing a child in death.

And i even realize that it can be a deal-breaker for some. It's heartbreaking to hear the way people talk about birthmothers. Most often they don't even realize they're being insulting. But i recognize and respect his or anyone's right to think whatever they want about adoption. He keeps trying to reassure me that whatever it was in my past that i wanted to tell him wouldn't change how he feels about me now. But his attitude toward it has nonetheless made me terribly angry, and i think it may be best to just let it all go.

This will always and forever remain the most excruciatingly difficult thing i've ever done. But when i think of Emily, getting off the bus with her mom there to hold her hand and walk her home every day... When i think of her all excited when the garage door opens a few hours later and she realizes that daddy is home... When i think of her sick, and know that her parents never hesitate out of financial concern to take her to the doctor... or taking care of her sister, so tenderly... i know it was also the best thing i've ever done.

Let this be a lesson to any future prospective boyfriends.