photo credit: jimmywayne I 15-86 Signs via photopin (license)
photo credit: jimmywayne I 15-86 Signs via photopin (license)

About to hit the road for the long drive back to Salt Lake City from San Diego, my home for more than half my life that is no longer my home but will always be where I feel most at home. Utah is where I want to be, but California runs in my veins.

The La Jolla Writers Conference was a smashing success as it is every year and why I come out every year from Utah. I also come out to see my ‘framily’ and to get a shrimp burrito(s) from Cotija’s in Santee, and to drink in people with different ethnicities, religions, and clothing standards.

It’s too painful for me to talk about the ocean.

This trip was a little disappointing, however, because I failed to capture blog-worthy material from the part of my brain I like to call a ‘sieve.’ If you’ve followed me for any length of time, you know how I managed to get myself on a plane without any ID for the Republican National Convention, my radio adventures and the sacred rules and timeless truths I learned (the hard way) while there.

I don’t feel fully complete without humor. (In fact, I think I need to change my ‘Family’ blog—short, snarky gems of family life—to ‘Funny’ or something else, because now that my kids are out of the house, it’s harder to make fun of them, and my husband just isn’t that interesting.)

So I was feeling a little deflated as I was packing to hit the road when it hit me. Wait a minute! I can always share why the first day of my two-day drive back to Utah is my favorite day of the year.

  1. I’ve long since given up on healthy eating, and my car is full of M&Ms and Diet Pepsi.
  2. I have been wearing the same pajamas/lounging wear for two days and nights and see no reason to change for an 8-hour stretch along I-15 that culminates in a Best Western in St. George.
  3. Accordingly, I have needed no shower for the same two days and nights. ‘Needed’ is in the eye of the beholder obviously, but since no one knows me here, I really don’t care. It’s doing wonders for my hair to skip a few shampoos.
  4. Any and all irritation I may have felt toward my husband has faded, and I can dreamily contemplate as I drive just how lucky I am.
  5. No one—absolutely no one—knows exactly where I am. I am free as a bird and can wear a bikini (should the need arise and should I take leave of my senses) and, if I’m feeling naughty enough, say, “OMG.”
  6. I have no to-do list, nothing scheduled, and no deadlines looming over me. (This one. If you only knew.)
  7. I have time to work out more of that ‘meaning of life’ thing.

There. I feel better. If something funny happens at the Best Western, I’ll let you know.

P.S. The floodgates have opened. My alarm (which I set because my mind really is a sieve sometimes) just went off to alert me it’s time to call into a certain radio show for my weekly spot.

After the seizure-like jolt to my nervous system when the sound started, I reflected how professional and efficient I am to have set the alarm, because I never would have remembered without it. There’s just one teensy little problem. I’m on CA time, which is an hour behind UT time. So my carefully set alarm means I should have called in an hour ago.

Here’s the true test of my character. I’m going to act like nothing happened and hope that the host has his own issues with memory. Hope for the best, plan for the worst.