Saturday, October 27, 2007

I am back. It takes 12 hours to drive to Winston-Salem, North Carolina, and about 11 hours to drive from the Outer Banks back to Connecticut. This means that I had 23 entire hours to think, relax and just be. A rarity these days, but it was necessary. I don't think my head has felt this clear since last December, and my body is far less tense. I laughed a lot, I read, I enjoyed the company of my family. The car rides were two cozy bookends that encompassed everything in between. Car ride One: Ryan, Sakshi, Wake Forest, 6th and Vine, Indian food, Red Sox games, Pilot Mountain hike, Shelton Vineyards, Nags Head, Ocracroke, Lost Colony of Roanoke, Wright Brothers Museum, moonlit walk on beach: Car Ride Two. I latched onto so many different ideas and thoughts throughout the trip, but it's hard to articulate slices of them so I've been attempting to find the common thread. I think there might be a few separate blog entries.

First of all, I am thankful that I live in New England. I loved North Carolina and would go back and visit in a second, but driving home on Route 13 was like driving straight through an Andrew Wyeth painting. The word that kept creeping to the forefront of my mind was "dull." Desolate was a close second. Sad, lonely, unbelievable were the other choice few. Rural Virginia and North Carolina leave much to be desired, at least from a Connecticut girl's standpoint. We drove for over an hour and didn't pass a single restaurant or grocery store. We passed cotton and peanut fields, dilapidated/boarded up houses (with "No Trespassing"--don't worry--and "Bad Dog lives here" signs). I saw heaps of junk in people's front yards from old rusty cars to tires and broken plastic chairs. The faded wooden billboards seemed to sing out from a different era (circa 1981) and advertised "Discount Cigs, Firecrackers and Guns". We came to a stoplight, passed another trailer park and then a school that wasn't in session...most likely because there aren't enough students in the area to make running the school worthwhile.

It didn't help that it rained for a majority of the ride and was mostly cloudy for the rest. Mist and fog drifted across the farms and fields, and the irrigation systems stood, rendered useless. It seemed to me that no one actually lived in these towns; they were like ghost towns because (with the exception of local traffic) no one was visible to the casual observer. The towns appeared to have a persona all their own which included beyond run-down houses, ramshackle sheds and overgrown lawns. I felt a sense of disgust for whoever let the places fall to pieces like that. I kept thinking how happy I was to be returning to a beautiful small town where, for the most part, people are friendly, out and about and willing to take ownership for their corner of the world. I verbally announced to my family on more than one occasion how thrilled I was that I didn't live in any of the towns that we passed through. I began to feel like a snob but then decided that I'm not actually a snob, but I have a high regard for my home, property and town and could never abandon them utterly.

I think I am beginning to run on. It's nearly 1 a.m. and perhaps it's past my bedtime. I will continue over the weekend...

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Hiatus

I know I've been terrible at updating this blog lately. I have been incredibly busy and by the time I come home at night, the last thing I want to do is sit down and stare at my computer for another minute. Buuuttt...the good news is: I am now officially on vacation! YAY! Let the celebrating begin. Jeff and I are riding down to North Carolina in style, in my Dad's Cadillac, to visit my brother at Wake Forest. Then we're off to the Outer Banks. I'm looking forward to staring lazily out the window, to eating junk food and to hanging out on the beach. I apologize, this isn't a deep or interesting post; it's just an FYI so that everyone knows where I am. See you next weekend!

Thursday, October 4, 2007

I am getting greedy. I want so many things right now but I can't quite afford them and yet I still think about them constantly. And I'm not being profound here and saying that I want to feel peace with my inner-self or that I want to be all zen-like or anything. The things that I want are just that...things. My current want is a new car. Well, a new/used car. New to me. And I want a Nissan Altima. And I want the color to be Mystic Emerald Metallic. It's so PRETTY! I just researched the price online (because it's so damn easy when everything is right at your fingertips), and as I'm yelling to Jeff down the hallway to ask him the proper downpayment for the price, he wastes no time yelling back at me that we don't even have enough for the downpayment, and that basically ended our car conversation for the day. So.

This isn't to say that we don't splurge occasionally on big ticket items. In fact, yesterday we bought a large flatscreen TV. When I saw the price ring up on the cash register at Best Buy, I have to admit I nearly fell off the stool I was sitting on. You would think that after purchasing something so bank account-draining that I would choose to be frugal. Instead, I am researching car prices and dreaming big. It doesn't mean that I am going to run out and buy the Altima tomorrow, but let's face the facts: the green Chevy Lumina that has serviced me for so many years (since January 2001 to be exact) is on its 156,000th+ mile and it's no longer beautiful. I've spilled one too many cups of coffee on the gray carpet, the sides were splattered with egg yolk in New London by teenage losers so now it's rusting in spots, and I scraped against the red and yellow pole at the McDonald's drive-in one night about five years ago--you get the picture. When I'm driving my car, I feel a bit unprofessional. It's kind of similar to the fact that I can't afford trendy, fashionable clothes: I know that on the inside, a cute, professional, well-dressed Tara is just dying to come out, but instead she has to make due with what she has.

Okay, okay. I just realized that I sound incredibly ungrateful, and I have so much, I do. I love my life and my house and our new furniture...but we all have a wish list, don't we? We are always striving for something more, whether tangible or spiritual. I know material things don't make you a better person, but I would feel more confident if I were able to afford a shiny new car and an Ann Taylor Loft wardrobe.

I had two separate discussions this week, with Jeff and then with Megan. We all came to the same conclusion: that our generation is a "must have" generation. When we see something new/trendy/interesting, we just have to have it. There's no way around it. As soon as a DVD box set comes out, it's ours. We want two Tivos to tape our programs? Done. When our parents recommend that we wait a few months to get settled into the house before buying a couch/loveseat/coffee table/end table, we pause for a second, look at each other, say "Nahhhh" and proceed to Crate & Barrel.

Growing up, I was always excellent at saving money. I would buy maybe one toy a month, and I think my parents mostly bought my books for me. I saved my allowance and report card money. I was responsible. Maybe now there are just so many marketable items that it's overwhelming. But I still have to give myself props, because for every 5 items that I want to buy, I only purchase one.

I know that my grandparents and my parents didn't have half the things that I have at 27. I also know that they hadn't been to Europe four times or on a cruise or to Hawaii. It was just completely unprecedented at the time, and they have nothing to compare their lives to except for future generations; our generation. I guess we literally have the world at our fingertips, both online and in real time. And that's just something I find hard to pass up.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

I want a pumpkin, apple cider, mums, corn chowder, and a big pile of crunchy leaves to jump in. I want to wear my cute puffy vest over a long-sleeved shirt with jeans and lace-up brown shoes to go hiking. I want the crisp air in the morning to fill my lungs and invigorate me before I even get into my car and drive to work (er, Dunkin' Donuts. First things first).

I DON'T want 80 degree weather in October. I don't want to wear my summer clothes for another half a second. I don't want humidity, iced coffee, cookout food or plants. I am tired of taking care of our hanging baskets on the deck. They need more attention than I am willing to give them, and besides, it is October. Die already! I want to see pretty, colorful leaves covering the ground. I don't want to see wishy-washy brownish green leaves clinging to the trees.

Where is the Fall that we all know and love? I feel like it's the summer that never ends...yes it goes on and on, my friends...I know that there are people out there who embrace the everlasting warm weather but really. Enough already.

Rachel and I are getting together on Saturday. We both want pumpkins and we're hoping to go hiking somewhere locally, and other than that we threw around the idea of drinking wine and baking cookies (and maybe addding a little wine to the cookies? I don't know). All I'm saying is that I better be able to wear corduroy pants and a sweater because I am not picking out my pumpkin wearing shorts and flip flops. It's practically sacrilege.