NoSalesTax

Two Elon alumni (2002) have pooled their talents to bring excitement and joy to your day. One is a classy woman who combines her Italian and feminine powers to influence men of all shapes and sizes. The other is a tall blond man who relies on wit and boyish good looks to impress women, especially when they're drunk. Join them in their epic pursuit of the phenomenon known as adulthood. NoSalesTax side effects may include addiction and abrupt laughter as colleagues look on in confused jealousy.

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

This is a Long Drive for Someone w/ Nothing to Think About

It took me 45 minutes to realize the scattering of white pieces all over tonight’s rain-slicked road was actually frog guts. I remember no more than 20 minutes of my drive home tonight, leaving work at 9:45pm and getting to my parents’ house in NH at 11:15pm. It’s amazing how easily a mind can wander when fatigue mixes w/ iced hazelnut coffee, all beneath a wet foggy night. I’m not a coffee drinker, unless I need to stay awake, so I may be way out of line here when I say the taste of iced hazelnut falls somewhere between prune juice and navel lint on the edibility ladder. I digress.

As I drove past nodding trees and high-hopping frogs (seriously, they get a few feet of air w/ each jump), I began to think back to where I was on this date years ago. Last year I was enjoying the last few days of my paid month vacation (after being fired) in AmeriCorps*VISTA, fully believing I’d have to work at Maggie Moo’s if I didn’t find another VISTA position by Oct. 1.

Two years ago I was backpacking through Europe w/ my (now ex-) girlfriend, trying to capture the beauty of the landscape and the beauty of her and bottle it up as a souvenir of our month overseas. Despite the happiness, it was difficult for me to enjoy knowing she would be starting another year of AmeriCorps a few months later, traveling all over, leaving me behind. Those four weeks abroad felt like an October afternoon, warm and colorful, checkered leaves throwing color ahead of approaching clouds that will soon carry snow.

I was driving cross-country at the end of September 2002, hoping Larry (my Acura Legend w/ 210k miles) would survive the looming Rockies. Fresh out of college, I felt invincible, confident I’d thrive out west during my 10 months of AmeriCorps*NCCC, hoping to make some lifelong friends. A new beginning awaited me on the left coast, the setting sun swallowing me each evening as I pressed onward for California, leaving behind everything I knew. A person can do a lot of thinking while driving 3,500 miles by themselves. I didn’t waste the opportunity.

I found myself again thinking behind the wheel tonight, feeling an occasional chill as I watched New England flash its first autumn poses. The cars sharing the road made me wonder where they were going, to whom their drivers were returning or escaping. I thought of all the weight I’ve dragged in recent years, seemingly always hurting more as fall closes the door on summer.

On a side note, my dad just came downstairs wearing nothing but teal briefs. No wonder I’m so screwed up. He’s peeing now, as I can hear every drop through the Lohan-thin walls of this old house.

So anyway, I was sitting on my deck w/ my friend KCDC the other night when she asked me where I saw myself in five years. The question’s simplicity threw me for a minute, not because I didn’t know the answer, but because I didn’t even know how to answer. All these grey years of looking three cars ahead have brought my gaze closer to the pavement before me, the potholes and passing lanes that now fill my life. These days I don’t drive so fast.