The Familyhood of the Traveling Nutjob, Part 1

Way way waaaaaay back when I was slightly control-freakish, I used to plan any and all vacations as delicately and intricately as a State Dinner.  Even days off had the organizational subtext of a royal wedding. Details were not left out.  Time lines were established, and I treated my entire family like a group of haphazard caterers that don't know the difference between pate' and liverwurst.

Basically what I'm trying to say is that traveling with me was one big stressful clusterfuck, where the "stops for family fun opportunities" paled in comparison to the number of times the three other members of our family attempted to plan a coup, thereby relieving me of my vacation-planning duties.  I had planned for that, as well, and I never allowed all three to be alone longer than a few seconds.  Because the most important part of being a good dictator is not allowing the huddled masses to find out there are others that agree with you, there are others with an alternate plan.

So a couple years ago, we (I) planned a trip to the Pacific Northwest.  It was right after Christmas and our children had an extra week off, so most kids would be back in school.  The PERFECT time to travel! Add this to the real possibility we would get stuck in some massive snow-storm going through the Cascades, or the Sierras, or whatever other mountain range we had to go through, and we had a vacation made for a control freak. Not.

We headed towards Portland, where we had in-laws and cousins to spend time with.  Luckily for everyone, I had planned out all the things we would see in 2.5 days, as well as all the meals we would eat.

How did I come up with the meals?  Well, I had been watching Diners, Drive-ins, and Dives with Guy Fiery.  He spends time in crazy food joints all over towns, highlighting the best of the best.

But there is no index out there.  No way to find these places by location.  So I went onto the website and cross-referenced each episode with the locations, all neatly put into a spreadsheet.  Then, I watched each YouTube clip to see which items I wanted to try, and which items Sky King would have to order so I could try that one, too. I would make notes about each menu item, as well. Yes, seriously.

Don't laugh, I have been asked for this document before, from people traveling to the same area.  I'm almost positive the document will not be used against me in a court of law.  Almost.

Anyways-back to the trip.

We stopped in Redding to stay with family.  This was our "chill day"-leave late, drive for 3 hours, spend the night, leave in the morning towards Portland. Easy-peasy.

We took off the next day with a ton of snacks to reduce the number of stops. Pretty soon we were in Medford, Oregon, looking for a meal.  Yelp must have been smoking crack that day, because we ended up at some place that claimed to have the best BBQ in the state. 

Apparently they do not have an independent BBQ judging system in place, because the food was awful.  Unremarkable, bland.  Yuck.

I was getting irritated. And we had 7 more hours to go.

Portland was filled with tons of things I HAD TO SEE/DO/EAT, and all would be better.

Stay tuned...

Permanent Re-Assessment, with a Twist

Being so ill has had me reassess so many things in my life.  Work, family time, the energy I put out.  And my ever-changing health has re-prioritized just about everything.  Image has become a side-note. But the quest for shiny-new-fabulousness?  Not gone.  Worse, really.

Since I can't possibly bring home another pair of boots without risking a massive Sky King defection (at least until, oh June-ish?), I have to find other things to keep my attention.  Shiny new wonderfulness.  But since I'm not the size I want to be, it can't be clothing-I cannot justify expensively altered, well-fitting clothing in the double digits.  So, I need other things to keep my interest.

Change.  New fabulous hair (appointment booked, and I might just have an opinion about what I want this time, which shocked the shit out of my stylist) is on the docket.  Maybe some bright red, maybe some side-swept bangs.  Who knows.   Until my appointment, I had to do something.

So, I got a nose ring.  I guess actually a piercing, because it's a turquoise stud, very tiny, in my left nostril.  I love it, I'm glad I did it.  I have always wanted one, but worked with kids, and it was usually frowned upon.  Then, when I began to run my own place, I felt it was not appropriate, like blue hair, and full sleeve tattoos.  Things I like, but didn't feel were appropriate as a Girl Scout leader, or Child Care Runner-Person.

 I'm over it. The piercing didn't hurt like I thought, and all my antibiotics made sure it healed quite nicely.

Lacking funds these days, (can you say, "out-of-pocket medical expenses"?), I had to find things that give me that "new boots" feel, without the "new boots" cost.  So, I worked on revamping my blog.  I didn't quite relate to the Fearless Fibro Warrior much, but changing a name is like moving your business-it always slows things down.  So, I shortened to FFW (a little like FFL, without the sex), made a VERY PROFESSIONAL awesome logo (insert sarcastic eye roll here), and reworked my front page.  See?  Shiny new boots.  Without the new boots.  Hey, wait.....

My next thing?  I've been thinking about it.  For a while---like, 6 months? A new tattoo.

I've always been a, "tattoos should be hide-able" kind of gal.  Not for others, but for me.  I established this philosophy when I wanted to be a high-falutin' Children's Advocate, or Lobbyist, or Children's Lawyer, or "Shit-Ton of Money Maker, or some other important heel-wearing bullshit. 

I'm high-falutin', don't get me wrong.  My husband and I own a business that has managed to feed us and our kids for almost 5 years. 

But there's something about having control over part of my body that is empowering to me.  Something that makes me not care so much about a visible tattoo.  Something that makes me want to be able to explain how bad-ass I am, without wearing an "I am Badass" shirt.

Believe me, I don't have much control.  And as a recovering control freak, this is huge, to be able to let go. 

But I have.  And I feel that I need to do something.  Something big.

So I'm perusing Google images, being a creative motherfucker.  And I'm trying to convince my 12-year-old to sketch something out for me.  Lime green-ish, ribbon-y, maybe with a spoon thrown in. 

And, I want it on my right wrist.  Yep, visible.  Watch out, people.  So, I came up with my own sketch on MS Paint.  It needs a little refining, though.

That's an arm...

 

I'm damn proud of me (even if my art skills are slightly pathetic).  I have come a long way, changed so much.  Learned to accept my reality, my situation.  And I want a souvenir of my quest, a reminder of how far I've come.

And my 12-year-old boy is standing in my way being a snotty brat, refusing to design a tattoo.  Screw him, pass the tequila.  I got this.