I'm forcing myself to stay up late in hopes of catching this Perseid meteor shower lighting up the sky. How I would love to have that camera I dream of. One that would be capable of capturing such a potentially glorious show. But alas, I am simply left with wishful thinking amongst an overdrawn checking account and overcast skies.
I was on "vacation" from the 3rd to the 11th. Though most would have booked a trip to some exotic paradise, I "chose" to spend my time remodelling another rental for my now regular client. Considering I have lofty dreams, an as-yet unsecured job, and the leftover financial burn from nearly a year of unemployment; working while on a paid vacation seemed the responsible thing to do. The work becomes tedious, yes, but bringing new life to those old apartments provides me with a very inspirational and satisfying sense of being. Like a drunk who can't drink enough; I sought out even more "pleasure" by simultaneously overhauling the exterior of my own home. Perhaps the paint fumes created my manic state, or, perhaps, it was my detest of cranberry shutters... All I know is that most "normal" people wouldn't return home after painting for 7 hours on a hot, muggy day and start painting their own house. Let alone paint until midnight, with a light hanging from a nail on a rickety old wooden ladder!
Thankfully, I came to my senses on Thursday. Well, if I am being completely honest, the threat of rain forced me into a more sane state of mind. It was time to vacation on my vacation. But what would I do? In typical Mona fashion, I had ignored myself. I had made no plans! Before I could settle into a state of disgust, I received a chance response to a chance email sent to my former chance encounter, C.F.
He was nearby.
As life would have it... I was free, and he was as free as he was going to be. I left in the night on an adventure that was one like I hadn't taken since my care-free irresponsible 20's. As I roared down the highway with my barely-there muffler, I began to feel more and more alive. As the yellow dashes disappeared under my bumper, so did that nagging sense of lack I had been lying awake in bed with just days before.
The romance of spontaneity was quickly clouded with hilarity as I realized I had torn my jean pocket on that very nail I hung a light on to paint in the night while passing the pile of ladders in my dark garage. I bought super glue at the gas station and nearly glued my ass to my pants in the parking lot! Thank God for that burning sensation industrial strength adhesive gives when it touches the skin! And that was just the beginning of my adventurous antics! Brilliant me decided to take a 32 ounce travel mug of Mint Sun Tea on the road. Just as I was finding myself lost in a very dangerous looking part of town, I was also finding myself in serious need of peeing! Perfect timing to not know where the hell you are going, and being a lone, woman traveller. Add to that having to turn around on the toll road, of course, paying more tolls; asking the most "safe" looking gentlemen where the street I needed to be on was, only to have another man pull up next to me and tell me to follow him... and you have a lone woman traveller, about to piss her pants, all the while hoping she isn't being led off to a dark alley to be bludgeoned in her super glued and soon to be tinkled in jeans!
Would I get there? Alive and in dry pants?
Desperation was setting in. Frustration was setting in. My would have been 15 minutes early arrival had now become an hour late circling of the city. I tried to call the hotel to tell him I was somewhere nearby, but I had written the number down wrong. I finally came to my senses and found a parking garage. I dumped the car that wouldn't show me the way for a cab that could drop me off at the door of the hotel, allowing me to reach a bathroom, and C.F. , in a more expedient manner. A nice Indian taxi driver recognized the "I have no fuckin' clue what I'm doing and where I'm going" look on my face and waved me to his cab from two lanes over.
Once I found the bathroom, I had to search for the elevators. The hotel was very swank. Relief that I would soon be at his door quickly dissipated when I realized there was no 13th floor... which was where his room should have been, according to his message. Shit! I got off the elevator and headed to the courtesy phone in the hall.
"Is there a room 1301?" I asked.
"No."
"Well can you please connect me with C.F.'s room please?"
Finally. Finally I was at his door.
We spent the next few hours talking. We talked about anything and everything, in a sense of familiarity we hadn't had when we met so many months ago. This wayward journey was one I was glad to have taken. There are people in this world that we share connections with. Connections that are so powerful we cannot begin to understand them, and maybe we aren't supposed to.
I was alive in that moment. In that evening. And although the past several months of my life have been very fulfilling; although so many things are happening for me that I had once given up hope for... I had to let go of the old habit of never holding on to me. C.F. was familiar to me, but this relaxed and rejuvenating feeling I had with him was so very very new. There were no "what ifs" or "why can't we's." There was just us and that very moment in time... in this life.
Although he had asked to share breakfast, I left quietly under the darkness of a stormy Saturday morning as he slept peacefully. My goodbye scrawled on a hotel note pad, I returned to the highway; returned to my life, only not quite as I knew it.
I spent my Saturday afternoon with Chester, as I usually do. Only this time, I daydreamed of the night before while Chester napped in his chair. I went to the beach on Sunday and became reacquainted with the joy I feel when waves crash against my skin. And Monday... Monday I replaced what was left of my old rusty muffler so I could enjoy the comfortable quietness of a cared for car once again.
monday morning eye candy: Natalia Arbelaez
8 years ago
