Day 6 - Goodbye’s & Takeoff’s

“Hi, going home?”, the man asked. “Yes,” I replied. It was a late afternoon flight with no real need to sleep, but I was still upset with my failure to secure a window seat on the flight from Detroit to San Francisco. As the man with the east coast accent and I moved out of the way to let the third man in to his seat by the window, he thanked us and started some chatter about where he had put his bag. I wanted to die. Not only was I sandwiched between two men my Dad’s age, but they were both talkers. We hadn’t even left the gate, and I was convinced it was about to be the longest flight ever. Because I’m a natural born cynic, I immediately assume they’re dirty old men when they’re a little too nice to the girl half their age. I had managed to maintain my composure for the past few hours, through leaving Amy waving goodbye on The Basement steps, dropping Adam back to the office and returning Tyler to Westfield to getting myself to the airport and making the first leg of my flight from Indy to Detroit, but so help me god, if one of these men tried to hit on me, there would be bloodshed.

I had woken up that morning in one of two identical twin beds in Tyler’s little sister’s old room, a pleasant callback to my childhood. The Bender family had long since cleared out for work when I walked downstairs to find a note from Tyler’s mom informing me to help myself to the pantry. As I poured myself a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios, I encountered a four-legged ball of fur desperate for me to love her (and help her escape the doggie gate). Nelly was a great morning companion who kept me distracted from the realities of the day. I texted Tyler since we were supposed to hang out that morning. I ran some errands waiting for his reply. Nothing. Since I’m the type of person who believes that peeking in people’s windows is “better” than calling and waking a person up, I drove on up to Westfield and saw no sign of Tyler in his typical spot in front of the TV. “What the hell, Tyler? It’s 10:30.” Just as I was wrapping up lunch plans via text with Adam & Amy, Tyler finally replied. After I convinced him it was safe to join in my lunch plans, I told him to come outside. He was slow putting two and two together, and so I realized why he hadn’t given me crap about not just calling him to wake him up, when he asked, “Where are you?”. I thought asking him to come outside would have already made that clear. He walked out shaking his head when I replied, “At your door.” He thought I had been outside since I sent the first text nearly an hour & a half ago. Obviously, he think I’m more pathetic than I actually am. I’d only been there 20 min, most of which were spent texting about lunch, because unlike Tyler, I don’t text & drive. I also wear my seat belt. Clearly, Tyler & I *never* debate about such things.

We picked up Adam at work and shot off to the east side to meet up with Amy. I was anxious to see their new office in Fort Benjamin Harrison. It was a mini reunion as I had once worked with most of her new co-workers. She took us over to Sandra’s Rice & Noodle. I miss lunch with Adam & Amy. They can make me laugh like no other, and if they weren’t my friends, I would probably pay them to be so on that alone. I was nervous to speak, afraid I’d start crying. We went back to the office before heading back to Carmel. The partners were back from their lunch, so the reunions continued. It was really nice to see everyone after so many years. We might have ended up talking all day had we not realized that it was the middle of a business day. This outing felt so typical that I nearly forgot to say goodbye’s. Adam yelled at me to exit the car and hug him goodbye. “Oh, yeah!” It felt as though I’d be seeing him again next week.

I dropped off Tyler and he scolded me about how I would miss my flight. I texted him from the gate where I had 45 minutes left to kill. Thanks, Tyler.

Day 5 - Adventures with Tara

The night before I had a short but very sweet date with Tara, Tyler’s little sister who sings on the new album and makes these great Hair Treasures. A consensus was formed months ago that she & I would be best friends if I moved back to Indiana. It’s definitely a strong possibility. Her Dad yelled after us to “be careful” as we pulled out the driveway heading to downtown Indy. Tyler’s mention of a frosty settled our dinner plans on Wendy’s. Somehow we got on the subject of swine, which people quickly learn spurs a huge conversation with me. We showed up to the Murat just in time for St. Vincent’s opening song. I wasn’t very familiar with her music, but the descriptions I’d read were perfectly fitting: noise contrasted by soft vocals. She was good!

It wasn’t until Tara pointed out the spinning double gramophone on stage that I realized this was her very first Andrew Bird show. It also wasn’t until then that she realized it was my fifth. When Tyler suggested she ask me to go, he failed to mention that I had a minor Andrew Bird obsession. I’m quite the Andrew Bird obsession enabler. I wish I had the full set list. He played mostly new material. No clue about the order, but I remember: Scythian Empires, Effigy, Anonanimal, Fake Palindromes, Plasticities, Dark Matter (well, the sister song to it), Nomenclature, and Fitz & Dizzyspells. For the encore, he returned solo for “Why?” before asking Annie Clark to join him for a cover of Bob Dylan’s “Oh, Sister”, and closing out the show with the full band playing…I absolutely cannot remember. We had pretty good seats near the front, and luckily the crazy man & woman who danced in the aisle never blocked our view. It was nice to see Mr. Bird in the proper setting. I never quite recovered from seeing him at Outside Lands. Everything about that setup was weird for me. Coincidentally, as I was telling Tara about all the times I’d met Andrew from how he liked my gloves to telling him about Alex’s anxiety that Andrew hated him as we looked for the car, Ashley, who was with me for all those moments, had been yelling my name from across the street. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize it until she texted me as we were driving away. Still, it’s pretty cool that we managed to see another Andrew Bird show together and didn’t even realize it. We went straight home, and I was happy to go to bed on time, but I do wish it had been a weekend so we could have made a real slumber party out of it. Sadly, Tara had to leave for work at the crack of dawn. (Those embarrassing videos of Tyler’s HS band will have to wait for another visit ;)

Before the concert, I hung out with Tyler for a little while. He had a job interview, and I’d gotten tied up at New York & Company, so it was a short visit. Mainly, I knew he wanted to drill me about my thoughts on his girlfriend and a review of their album & the recent show from a couple nights ago. I’d been very supportive of going out with this girl, but now that things were getting serious, I’d noticed I was putting on my “big sister” hat, trying to watch for any potential harm. Younger brothers & sisters everywhere: Even though we often placed you in semi-dangerous situations and made you take the blame for everything, we’ve been looking out for you since day one. And naturally, this desire to protect carries over to those friends who become as close as real brothers & sisters. All that aside, the girl really was nice, and so I’m trying to set aside that instinctual “break my best friend’s heart and I’ll rip your eyes out” voice in my head because there’s no denying he seems happy. Hopefully, I actually get to hang out with them sometime soon, though. Getting around trust issues is the hardest part of being a big sister. That loaded question aside, one of the highlights of the visit was finally getting to lay eyes on Jordan’s infamous new couch. As I sunk down 2’ after sitting, I kind of understood the sensation of quicksand a little more. Three more years and my bones may not have the power to lift me from it. It was huge.

I’d left from my parent’s that morning. I postponed my departure a little bit, because I thought it’d be easier to leave the same time as they left for Terre Haute. As usual, my Mom said a bunch of sappy things and my Dad shoved a wad of cash in my hand. I just summed up my childhood in one sentence. Incredible. We had lunch with my brother before leaving. He wasn’t mean to me. *shrug* Saying goodbye to Snippy is always the hardest. I realize with the randomness of life, it could be the last time I say goodbye to anyone I see, but there’s no question her days are numbered. She’s truly a miracle for hanging on this long, but despite her looking young again with no visible signs of the Cushing’s, that heart murmur just doesn’t get any better. Her coughing was much, much worse, and as she laid in bed with me one morning, I was afraid I was going to lose her right then & there. She’s so happy living on the farm with Poodle, though. She has a buddy who isn’t a jerk like Lily. At her first vet visit, I was told she might have months or a few years. It’s been 5.5 years. I tear up every time I think about her. I gave her a good scratch behind the ears and slipped out of the house quickly to prevent crying. (Of course, that doesn’t stop me from crying right now.) I got in the car and tossed in Tyler Bender Band’s new “From Comet to Calm” album for its first uninterrupted listen as I drove back to Indy. I was sobbing by track #2: thinking about Snippy, about being with the band when they created this art, about how Amy would have an actual baby next time I came home…thinking about everything.

Day 4 - A Day of Rest

My attempts to sleep in were thwarted by my sister’s dog (pit bull) breaking in to the room and hopping up on the bed. Since I was in Jenna’s room, he thought I was her. After 3 rounds of shoving him out, I finally let him & the rest of the dog crew on the bed. He had no plans for me to sleep in much longer, though. I awoke again, sensing a presence. When I opened my eyes, his were about 3” from mine. I was getting the “please, wake up” staredown. I closed mine thinking he’d go away. He never flinched. Luckily, I was in a light sleep by that point. Having a pit bull 3” from your face upon first wake-up would be slightly terrifying.

We had Grandma over for lunch for my only full day home. Always a good time and she looked much better than at Christmas. I think there are fewer worries on her mind. We compared stories of traveling around LA and up the PCH. Also, it seems the Samantha doll I gave her for Christmas has been very useful in fitting all the doll clothes she’s been making for an upcoming craft show. She showed them off when we dropped her home later in the afternoon. Mom & I watched Coraline after dropping her off, which I had really been looking forward to but I thought it was only okay. I kindly requested catfish & (more) fried potatoes for dinner. Some neighbors always bring my parents bags & bags of catfish & crappie fillets. I was really hoping for some crappie but the catfish satisfied the craving. Sadly, my other Midwest food cravings would have to go unsatisfied since I was there a week too early for the covered bridge festival where I could have gotten loaded baked potatoes, crullers, and hot apple cider. Yes, I can get most of those things elsewhere but it’s not the same.

Day 3 - A Drive Around the Block

I’d spent the night before at Adam’s. Somehow I managed to sleep in until 10:30, so when I walked in to the living room, Adam was watching TV with Lily. I did a little freshening up in prep for my drive home to see my parents. Adam shouted, “Don’t leave! I’ll be right back!” Soon he returned with a tray full of Dunkin’ Donuts. With House on in the background (Adam was even slower to it than I was), we enjoyed our donuts and talked for over 3 hours. I had passed on my invitation to Bender family dinner, noting that I should visit my own family eventually, and yet, I still hadn’t left Carmel. Adam & I had a lot of catching up to do. Our jobs keep us too busy and we never talk anymore. I finally left early in the afternoon and sort of glazed over during the 80-mile trip home. The moment I put the car in park, two paws appeared on my driver’s side window. Behind them was the excited face of my little sister’s pit bull who had no doubt mistaken my rental car to be Jenna’s (same make & color). For the next 24 hours, he would remain convinced I was my sister. (He was staying with my parents while she looked for a new place.) The fact that my suitcase had been at her place wasn’t aiding my case otherwise. I was greeted by Snippy, who seemed to remember me, and Poodle, who doesn’t discriminate so long as you offer your foot out for a back rub. Dad was sprawled on the couch in typical post-Sunday lunch behavior. Mom had leftovers spread across the counter before I’d even taken off my shoes. I’ve never encountered another household where one meal can have up to 5 different meats available: pork chops, chicken, new york strip, hamburgers, and sausage. Seriously, disliking vegetables aside, being a vegetarian in my house was never a practical option.

Mom offered to take me for a drive around but Dad insisted we chill out for a little bit. Eventually, we piled in the truck and headed for the farm, a few miles down the road. We drove by acres and acres of corn which now grew where my childhood home had once stood. The only evidence it ever existed was a little strip of gravel along the road. Also gone was the barn across the road which we had spent much of our youth exploring, always without with Mom’s approval. I’d been told of their destruction, too late to request any specific photos, and it was incredibly hard to face the reality that they were really gone. The house was a decade or two shy of its centennial. It took all my strength not to break into tears. I could tell my Dad was fishing for me to have a breakdown. The older sister of our childhood babysitter had burst in to tears when she drove by during her visit a few weeks earlier. He suspected I would at least match that reaction and when I didn’t prodded with, “What do you think?” I stayed strong.

Upon arriving at the farm, we toured all the sheds where I saw the new combine, Steiger, Peterbilt semi, and my brother’s Case tractor. It was kindly suggested I sit in each one. As far as comfy seats go, I picked the wrong profession. Dad’s new office also had the bathroom & plumbing in, and they’d built a new grain bin, wiping out the old but full of character tool shed completely. A lot of changes since my last trip home. We squeezed in to the Mule (counting on some of you having no idea what I’m talking about) and we entered the pasture for Dad to check on/show off the cows. There were lots of calves, and he drove us close to the newest which was only 4 days old. Think “Midwestern Safari”. In case your imagination is failing in your old age, I took some video below. Unfortunately, I stopped filming just before the giant cliff we rolled down. We got to the edge and before Mom could even finish saying, “I hope you’re not planning to go down that…”, we were well on our way. It was a little like a roller coaster but with no constraints to give a false sense of security.

As we pulled out of the pasture, Dad asked if there were anywhere else I wanted to go. “Well,” I mentioned, “maybe the blue silo.” The blue silo sits on the other end of the farm, but there are some paths that connect to it, cutting behind the barn and along some fields and through the woods. “Well, I do need to check the beans back there anyway.” My Dad’s version of “if it makes you happy.” I was honestly surprised we were going, as the sun was riding low in the sky by now, but off we went, winding our way along the loosely defined tracks in the grass. As we neared the blue silo, he asked which way I wanted to go. “Whichever is more fun!”, to which Mom let out a heavy sigh. Even I was regretting the decision as we traveled down an even steeper hill than before, rode nearly sideways along a bank (despite my observation that the ground was perfectly flat a mere 3 feet to the right), and ramped through the luckily nearly dry creek. When we reached the top of a hill, I made us stop so I could take some photos of the amazing sunset that was happening right ahead of us. You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect evening for an open-air drive.

“Do you want to stop at the blue silo?”, he asked. “Not really. I just wanted the trip there.” We followed the narrow road out through the corn anyway and on to the gravel road, looping down to another entrance to the property so we could take in some new scenery on the trip back. Now that it was getting a bit too dark for photos, I spent the rest of the ride telling them all about Katharine Hepburn, literally a comprehensive summary of the biography I’d just read. We passed by some Queen Anne’s Lace. I picked it and flipped it upside down for my parents. When the biographer had asked Ms. Hepburn why it was her favorite flower, she had picked one for him and while showing him the underside, said, “I don’t know how anyone can look at this and not believe in God.” I further explained how I believed she had just the right idea about how to live out your later years. She had a place in the city throughout the week, but spent every weekend at her childhood home out in the rural area of Fenwick. Dad laughed when I pointed out the spot where I would build my country home and surround myself with a yard of wildflowers which might be bailed but never mowed. And if I don’t get married to some man with a better suggestion, that is exactly what I’ll do. By the time we got my back to my grandparent’s house, where we’d left the truck, the sky was a deep burgundy. I took one last look at the farm, for I knew my grandparents’ house would also be gone before my next return.

We stopped by my brother’s new house on the way home. It’s less than a mile from my parents. Our school bus went by it back in the day, and I always thought it’d be such a lovely place to live. It sits on a hill surrounded by fields and pasture, looking out on to a big lake surrounded by trees. I’m a little jealous he beat me to it. I finally met his girlfriend as well. Again, the big sister hat was fully in place. I won’t be entirely surprised if I’m flying home for a wedding soon, so let’s just hope the 10 minute meeting I survived with her can extend to holidays.

It was major parent/kid bonding time when we got home. Though I’m often labeled as quiet, I’m one of those people who will talk your leg off if you’re willing to sit & listen long enough. I think my parents always had a love/hate relationship with that aspect of my personality. They were one of few parents who almost never had to ask, “How was school?” but on the other hand, they did have to say when they had heard enough. With the 3-hour time difference, my “brain dumps” have become less frequent. However, I made up for lost time. I started by flipping through photos from the recent PCH drive, and when I realized I still had their attention, I broke in to a massive 9-month rewind of my blog, stepping them through all the highlights I had recorded. For once, I actually got tired of talking before they were tired of listening.

Day 2 - A Wedding, Reunion, and a Concert

I’d stayed the night before at my sister’s house in Nashville. Jenna stepped in to the bedroom in the morning, letting in a sliver of light with her. It was 15 minutes before my alarm, so I decided to get up and try to let Carrie sleep. It was a little after 7 am and Jenna was prepping to go to Bloomington for a cancer walk. It was hard to get up, since we had stayed up late the night before, but I had gotten such a wonderful, though short-lived, sleep. It was the first time in almost a year where I had absolutely no recollection of stirring throughout the night. In fact, I’m not sure I moved the entire night. It was a miracle sleep. Jenna had recently invested in a massive and expensive bed, but it’s hard to say how much was due to the mattress versus my flat out fatigue. Anyway, Jenna left and Carrie was up by the time I was out of the shower. I thought I had plenty of time since I had gotten up early, but when I glanced at the clock, I realized it was time for me to leave and I was 20 minutes shy of being ready to do so. After a rushed goodbye to Carrie, we navigated our way toward the highway from Jenna’s area of seclusion. We departed from Nashville a little after 9, and I had a wedding waiting for me in Carmel at 10:30. I’m still not sure how I managed, but I arrived early to Oak Hill Mansion, leaving time for a much needed pre-wedding bathroom break after the long drive. As I was walking toward the front doors, headed to the ceremony in the yard behind the building, I crossed paths with the entire wedding party taking some last minute photos. Kim looked incredible. As soon as I opened the doors, Adam, Mitch & Andy were standing right in front of me. Silly Adam had missed my Facebook message about coming home, which yielded the most shocked & excited expression I think anyone has ever made in reaction to my presence. The slow motion reaction as I opened the door was straight out of a movie. Since his partner was home sick, he stepped in as my date. At every turn, our group grew as we met more familiar faces. By the time we reached the ceremony, it was unclear whether we were actually at a wedding or a Mediasauce reunion.

We took our seats outside under a canopy of trees. With all the rain, the leaves remained fully green, though they should have been changing by this time of year. It was a warm & beautiful morning with the sun peaking in & out from behind the clouds, a sight unseen for the past few days. The guys walked out in brown suits and Kim entered in an antique satin gown with layers and layers of tool and a little peacock feather in her hair. Amy quite accurately described her as a fairy princess. Adam & I later marveled at how the leaves gently fell and rays of sunlight cut through the trees as they exchanged homemade vows. I don’t typically cry at weddings, but I was a little overtaken by the beauty of the scene and being able to share it with all of my favorite people. I heard some real crying off to the side, and discovered Lindsey holding baby Molly who also seemed to be upset by all this wedding stuff. I was so excited to see them, since she had been born after I moved away. I glanced to the other side and saw my old boss and his wife. Nearly everyone I wanted to see was sitting around me at this wedding. How wonderful I had been invited to this special day.

The reception was in the mansion, and our group immediately started to worry we wouldn’t be at the same table. Naturally, Kim had created a perfect seating chart, so I shared a table with Adam, Amy & Alex, Don & Jenn, and David & Alex. We had all the ingredients for an incredibly good time. Before I get too far along, I should mention that as we were taking our seats for the ceremony, Adam & I had both taken notice of the same cute boy photographing the wedding. With dark, curly hair and fitted black pants and a short, black vest over a white dress shirt, we were both a little googly-eyed. We exchanged excited faces as soon as he walked by. We’re that in-tune. Well, as we were seated at the reception, Nate stopped by to visit our table and Adam, without asking me, thought he’d mention that I was “in love with their wedding photographer.” First, this statement was a massive exaggeration. Second, my old boss, David, was sitting on the other side of Adam, and while at my old job, David had eagerly tried to offer his match-making services. Needless to say, I was mortified and wearing a dress made it too hard to climb under the table. By the time the words had left Adam’s mouth, I saw David’s eyes light up as he scanned the room for this “love of my life.” Nate started laughing and mentioned he didn’t know much about him but he agreed we would make a great match. I should mention this conversation happened within the first 30 minutes of the reception, leaving 3 more hours for more embarrassment to take place. David looked right at me and said, “Well, do you want to make this happen?” I buried my face in my hands, knowing that the salesman in David would not give up this sale too easily. He said, “Stand up, Mindy.” Before I even had to ask why, Adam said the photographer was right behind me. David insisted I stand up so he could do a “height check because he might be too short.” Instead, Adam stood by him and then I stood next to Adam. It was only slightly less humiliating this way. Just when I thought we had managed to change the subject, his wife, Alex, whispers in my ear, “Mindy, I just saw him on my way to the bathroom. He *is* adorable. I definitely approve.” David’s toddler-like curiosities were about to explode as he said, “What did she say? What did she say?? Was it about *him*??” This scenario was going downhill fast. Now he had a partner in crime for “making this happen.”

We survived the meal without incident and some terribly awkward toasts kept us entertained afterward. Adam kept trying to give them the “wrap it up” signal but it was a lost cause. We tried terribly not to laugh but with the people at our table and their facial expressions, it was next to impossible. I began to hurt from laughing. Amy, Alex, and I visited the other table full of past Mediasauce folks. I finally officially met baby Molly and had a long overdue reunion with the Bingham’s, Cooper’s & Rendel’s. We pretty much lost Amy to baby Molly, so Alex & I talked shop with Coop & Nate, discussing their new opportunity. I’m so happy they’re getting a fresh start but I’m sad it’s not at my company. (Hard to get couples to relocate across the country.)

I had to run out to my car to grab the wedding gift. When I returned, Don was waiting to give me the bad news. In the 10 minutes I was gone, David & Alex had cornered the photographer. Again, where’s a table to crawl under when you need one? We looked over as they were talking to another co-worker, looking straight in the direction of the photographer. They were gathering recruits. David joined us and pointed to the table where there sat a business card and gave his recount of the story. He complimented himself on knowing how to bring these kind of things up to other guys and continued that he had jumped straight to the point: “There’s a girl at our table who thinks you’re a good lookin’ dude.” Oh, David, please tell me you didn’t use that exact phrase. He had. By this point my face was permanently planted behind my hands, and yet, the story managed to get worse. He further told the guy, “you might get an idea which girl if you look over at the gift table right about now.” I really thought I was going to die. Who needs parents to embarrass you when you have an ex-boss who can do just as well? According to David, the guy replied, “Well, I am seeing someone and I feel guilty looking at such a beautiful woman. I’m not sure why I’m doing this…” and he handed David his card (pictured below next to the awesome tea-stained name cards Kim made). I still don’t believe a single word of this story. I told David that no one our age talks like that and if they do, I have no interest in them. He swears by it. Oh, and the guy lives in Nashville. Alex also encouragingly added, “Mindy, I told him that I had a boyfriend when I met David, so he’s not necessarily with the right person. And, he’s even cuter up close. Aww, his hair…and his eyes are light and oh, he’s just so cute.” I was already embarrassed, but then as we’re standing there, David continues, “Oh, well I think I found you a backup.” and tells me about a guy who just checked me out from behind. It was a little like having my Dad tell me a guy was checking me out and it was completely weird. Luckily, Alex returned in time for me to have some backup about how women feel about being “checked out.” Oh, my. You’d never know I’d been away from these people for over a year.

Adam entertained us with some expressive line dancing and helped me forget that my life was about to end. All of us stared in awe as he dropped to the ground and shook what his mama gave him. It may have been the single most entertaining moment of my life. Adam can always be counted on for comic relief. They had finished setting up the photo backdrop soon after the song was over, and David enthusiastically suggested I go get my photo taken *wink, wink* and afterward, say “switch!”. He continued, “Then, not only will you get to talk to him more, he’ll think you’re creative!” Oh, David, to think, I said I missed you. Well, after David & Alex left, Adam & I got our photo taken by the guy. He took 3 of me which everyone made a big deal about, because by now, the entire wedding reception knew of this little love connection.

And finally, the reception was coming to a close so I whisked Adam in to the car and we headed back to his place, where Lily, the dog I rescued from the streets, had no idea who I was. It was a little disappointing but convinced me that she had settled in nicely to her new home. Adam had quite the wedding buzz going as we took Lily for a walk around the block and proceeded to talk for the next few hours (and googled the photographer…naturally). I made last minute dinner plans with the Bancroft’s who joined us at Brockway Pub, a lovely Irish pub by my old apartment. We were also joined by Andy & Danielle and the entire Tyler Bender Band whose show we were going to attend afterward. (Always the groupie, I know.) I had only to tell Tyler a small snippet of the photographer setup before he agreed, “yeah, you need to stay away from that.” We eventually met up with the Kurt’s at The Warehouse, which upon entry I finally understood why it had been described as “awkward”. Within moments of stepping out of the car, a cop pulled up and said we needed to get inside. We defensively replied, “We are. We just parked!” Soon, we realized we were one of few people who were able to drive. There were kids drinking in the parking lot, and we walked in to a literal warehouse, where a band full of high school size people played & watched. There were couches along the walls, and Liz immediately hit the concession stand where she announced the bottled water was only 50-cents. She happily added, “I had $4 ready.” There was also a pleasant selection of baked goods available for the same price. We all agreed it would have been awesome to have a place like this when we were in HS but also agreed we all felt terribly old being there. We were glad we had postponed our arrival until just before Tyler Bender Band took the stage. It was their all-ages CD release party, and 80 HS kids had RSVP’ed on Facebook. I said a quick hello to Tyler’s family and saw Jordan who had warned me he was surrounded by “small people.” (He also gave my blog a shout out, so this is my public thank you for reading, Jordan. It’s nice to hear some people think I’m funny :) While I was in the middle of buying some beverages for Adam & me, Tyler decided to fluster me by introducing me to his girlfriend. I was trying to say “hello” and ask “how much?” at the same time and it was hard. Thanks, Tyler. I only had about 10 minutes with her to completely embarrass Tyler by sharing stories about how I took sole responsibility for their relationship existing at all. I had him hiding his face behind his hands. It was a sweet and rare victory.

 

The guys played through a solid set, and Tara & I marveled at the row of boys jumping up & down. I spent a good part of the show labeling all the kids in front of me as people from my HS class. Nearly every role was filled. Incredible how that works. I also marveled that I hadn’t really grown height-wise since I first got my license and yet, all the people in front of me looked like babies. I still look like I did in HS, and yet I somehow felt much older than all these kids. Maybe it’s the bitterness that gives us the age distinction. I bought the new CD & poster immediately after the show, only to have Tyler walk over 15 minutes later and yell at me for buying a CD, shoving the cash back in my hand. Bandmate Ryan backed him, saying “If you show up to Nashville for the recording, you don’t have to buy it and if you get your name listed in the album, you also definitely don’t have to buy it.” I argued I wanted to provide financial support, but they refused me. Well, I had to stick around awhile to get all the guys to sign my poster, which meant I couldn’t join the Bancroft’s & Kurt’s at Dairy Queen, despite how wonderful that plan sounded. The guys begrudgingly signed the poster, as I tried to say it would be good practice for when they’re famous. Eventually, Andy, Danielle, and Adam piled in my car for a trip to Steak & Shake. Since Tyler had somehow mentioned it during the show, we all had it stuck in our brains and decided it was the perfect way to end our night as high schoolers. We had our shakes and talked about stuff that I can’t even remember now but had a nice time. I do miss late nights at Steak & Shake. (Though, 11pm can hardly be qualified as late in this context.) We went back to Adam’s and talked even more before calling it a night. I snuggled in to the guest room and despite my exhaustion, had trouble sleeping after such a big day reuniting with everyone who had occupied 3+ years of my life in a single day.

Day 1 - To Get Where I’m Going

After an awkward Asian man dropped me off at the airport (but not before asking me how many black & Asian people are in Indy), I greeted Friday morning somewhere over Missouri as I awoke for the last time during my interrupted attempts to sleep on the plane. The guy next to me (who was actually quite cute) was tall and his knee had strayed over in to my area, which left very few ways for me to sleep without having our legs touching. Yes, only in my brain would leg touching seem a terrible thing to which to expose a stranger. Either way, I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea. We pulled in to Cincinnati around 6 am, where I should have had a short layover before the quick flight to Indy, so I decided to shop for breakfast and not bother trying to sleep. I hit up the Dunkin Donuts cart and started passing the time on my iPhone. I exchanged music with a friend in Sweden, and tweeted about just about everything, including the country-ish man who had announced to the gate area that there was a Dunkin Donuts stand just a short walk away. At first, I thought he was talking to his travel companions, but as I looked at the people glancing up from their respective screens with confused expressions, I realized he was a stranger to all of us. It didn’t stop him from making sure we all realized how excited he was to have gotten a chance to have his “favorite coffee in the world.” Before that encounter, I walked by a group of middle-aged friends, one who said her husband was “tighter than bark on a tree” as he comparison shopped in the airport convenience store. No place does metaphors like the Midwest and I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a solid clue I was close to home. My short layover turned in to a really long layover, long enough that I could have driven to Indy during the wait. At last, the full crew arrived and they funneled us outside in the rain across the tarmac to walk up the stairs of a small jet. Two large black men in front of me jokingly said, “We payed $200 for *this*?” as they let me walk ahead of them, not wanting to be caught standing in the rain. It was a scary little flight as the plane wobbled about in the dense clouds.

By the time I got to the rental car line, I was already a couple hours behind schedule. There would be no time to buy a wedding gift before setting off on the 70-mile trek to Covington for my hair appointment. I stopped at Burger King in Crawfordsville. Since I seemed to be good on time, I dined in. As I stepped in to the bathroom, an older, petite woman with blond hair was stepping out of a stall. She said, “Oh…” and paused to turn around, and said “Just a minute.” She shut the door. I heard a flush, and she stepped out, saying “It’s all yours” with an embarrassed smile. She explained that she’s been spoiled by automatic toilets and expects them to flush as she opens the door. I tried to assure her I do the same thing all the time. After I stepped in the stall, she continued the conversation, noting “You’ll need to turn the water on yourself….and the paper towel…oh, wait, nope, it’s automatic.” I thanked her for the head’s up, hoping to end the conversation, as I hate talking while peeing, apparently unlike the rest of my gender. When I stepped out, she was leaving the bathroom and jokingly said, “You’re on your own.” I ended up standing in line right behind her and her man friend. I’ve been so Midwest-deprived that Burger King was like a filling station for my empty soul. Two blue collar guys ahead of us asked if they could change their order to go, and the woman at the register gave them a “you’re ruining my life” sigh. The guys cheerfully added that they usually never cause trouble like this. I leaned over to my bathroom lady friend and said, “Somehow I doubt that,” and she laughed. There was a table of 4 next to me. I think I was the only person there under 50, actually. The ladies at that table were telling a story about how they were at a store and couldn’t figure out where to pay and the employees kept sending them back and forth between two counters before one of the ladies finally snapped. I was completely eavesdropping and the men caught me laughing along at the story.

I made it to Covington just in time for the start of my appointment, or so I thought. It seems my Mom had told me the wrong time (twice). It had been a half hour earlier, but Angel managed to work me in and I was oh so thankful. I left 4 shades darker and feeling like a new person. I like that she knows who Trent Reznor is and could share in my excitement for meeting him. It helps me feel like a rockstar when I leave, since I know she’s done the hair of so many.

Due to some unfortunate scheduling, I immediately had to backtrack the 70 miles I had just traveled and continue another 50 down to Nashville, where Carrie was joining me from Louisville. I didn’t get within the proper reception area to hear Tyler’s on-air radio time. All I heard was, “We just had Tyler Bender in the studio.” They raved about his performance, so I’m sure he sounded great. As I passed through Columbus, some heavy fog was really setting in (which I spent 20 minutes trying to photograph with my point & shoot once I arrived at Jenna’s). When I was about 10 minutes from her place, I called to make sure she was home. She waited until this time to ask, “How would you feel about going to a Pampered Chef party tonight? Only for an hour! I already said I’d go.” It’s a very Midwest thing to be invited to such a party, but my sister had the perfect excuse. “My sister is in town from California, only for the night.” Did she use it? No. I told Carrie the bad news when she pulled in and Jenna towed us to the party. Without us, it wouldn’t have even been a party. It would have been 4 people, including the rep & host. The rep opened with an awkward story about how she was doing this job so she could quit her job at the bank. The host was a few years younger than me and pregnant with her second. The rep made horrible potato soup and two hours later, we were finally leaving. Still, we couldn’t go to dinner, because this was my only chance to buy a wedding gift. I had planned to put some effort in to finding just the right combo of items that morning, but the flight delay had really messed up my day and the wedding was in the morning. Instead, the 3 of us worked together to assemble a reasonable selection of items, some proper wrapping, and just the right card in a late night Target run. It was the best I could pull-off. By 9:30, we finally settled in at Texas Roadhouse for dinner. I was barely hungry at this point, and really wanted little more than to sleep. It was great, as always, getting to see Carrie, though, swapping stories of old classmates amongst the three of us. We talked a bit back at Jenna’s until we were all too tired to stay awake. Between Jenna’s run & my wedding, it was going to be an early morning for all of us.

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Fast forward to day 6, back to this plane ride, seated between two talkative men on a flight from Detroit to SF. My emotions are in an uproar. I’m afraid I’m going to have to yell at one of these men, and I hate everything in life for making me wave goodbye to Indiana yet again, this time feeling as though I’m leaving home instead heading there. Before my rage could get the better of me, the man to my right started talking about why he was going to San Francisco. He was on his way to visit his daughter who had moved there 8 years ago and had recently had her first child. His wife had flown out last week to help. Turns out, all three of his children scattered themselves across the west coast: Seattle, San Francisco, and San Diego. With the near hour it took us to leave the runway, I ended up being on that plane for nearly 7 hours and spent every one talking to this man. We talked about Hereford cows, farming, how his daughter became a math teacher like him but wants to work in advertising which I strongly advised against, and how technology jobs leave no time for relationships. I think he was trying to set me up with his son in Seattle, as I could sense the disappointment in his voice when he said, “So you probably don’t even have time to date, do you?” The other man joined in when I mentioned involvement with Nike. He shared the view of the other man’s daughter and her love of the Pegasus. She won’t run in any other shoe. We talked about moving away from home and the sense of obligation to spend vacation time returning home instead of exploring new places. We talked about alternative forms of energy and the lack of forward-thinking. We spent the better part of 3 hours working through the crossword puzzle, during which he offered a message to pass on to my Dad, hoping to encourage him to visit me. We literally talked about everything under the sun, and I’m still torn on whether he actually made me feel better or worse. He kept me from thinking about missing my friends, but he treated me like one of his students, encouraging me to take care of myself with this crazy job of mine, which made me recognize a bigger void in my new life: no one watching out for me in the day-to-day.

The same awkward Asian man dropped me back to my apartment that night, luckily without quizzing me on the race ratios of any specific place. Though, he did remember me. The next morning I would return to a series of work disasters and spend the next week digging myself into a deeper & deeper hole until at last I would hit my breaking point and a friend 2,300 miles away would call to talk me through it. Everything would become manageable again, and I would kindly be reminded that I have an army of people looking out for me wherever I am, sometimes in the form of strangers unknowingly providing counseling but most often as true friends who never have to be told when a friend is in need.