Thank you, Canada.

It was November and I’d completely forgotten about this concert when a Canadian co-worker pointed to The Walkmen poster above my desk and asked if I were going. The shows sold out less than a week after that conversation.

I’d planned to meet up with that same co-worker and his friends at the show but we never managed to cross paths. Instead, I stood in silence next to what the corner of my eye perceived to be a nice-looking man, also alone at the show. Thirty minutes passed before a waitress showed up and he gestured my way during his order saying, “and whatever she’d like.” *Swoon* In all the years I’ve been traveling solo to concerts, I’ve secretly hoped for a man to offer me a drink. Okay, that’s not entirely true. I’d hoped for a handsome man to offer me a drink. And he was indeed handsome. I passed on the drink out of consideration for the full drink already in my hand and my bladder that was already going to struggle to survive the whole show. (Getting to the bathrooms & back to your spot in this venue, especially at a sold out show, is a nightmare.)

Anyway, I struck up conversation after a long pause in the wake of the waitresses departure. He was in town from Calgary and joked that I probably had no idea where that was. (I knew but only because a character on the hit Canadian drama “Heartland”, my guilty pleasure, works in Calgary. I didn’t share this qualifier with him.) He’d also been at the show the night before and mentioned they’d barely played any songs from Bows+Arrows, which happens to be my favorite album. I was counting on a different setlist for tonight. While we waited on the show, we talked about our jobs a bit. His job often lands him in northern US states like Montana & Wyoming. I mentioned I’d just been there in September and it turns out, he was too. We’d both been in Whitefish, MT and Glacier within a few days of each other. He shares my love of Wyoming and knew of Beartooth Highway. Amazing.

After two almost-fights happened right in front of us, I told him, “When I see stuff like that, it makes me think I’m getting too old for this.” He boldly asked, “So how old are you?” followed by how close I was to 30 hah. Turns out he had just turned 30 in November. He didn’t feel any different because of it. I asked. We talked a bit about SF. He mentioned, “So this is like your winter? 60s?”. “Actually,” I clarified, “it’s been in the 50s and raining.” Poor San Franciscans. It was -15 F when he departed Calgary. I tried to hide my disappointment when he said his favorite spots had been Union Square and Fisherman’s Wharf. We all know I’m terrible at hiding my feelings, though, so he quickly added, “I know they’re probably really touristy.”

He leaned a little “financial district” in his fitted polo clearly showing a chiseled chest but he was nice. I even noticed that he sort of angled his 6’3+ stature in front of me when violence picked up in front of us. It made me feel like a lady ;) I half-regret not asking him to grab a drink after the show instead of the semi-awkward “have a nice life” goodbye. But I wanted to leave the evening on a high note and no need to pursue a foreigner, even if he did share my views on smoking pot at concerts and loved Wyoming.

So yes, thank you, Canada, for coming through on so many levels.

The Show

Run-in’s with fate aside, The Walkmen did not disappoint on their 10th Anniversary show. They opened with 3 songs from Bows+Arrows. I was in heaven. I was about 6 rows back with a perfect view and aside from some annoying crowd things, I couldn’t have asked for a better concert. Within the first few songs, the whole row in front of me literally slid out. One guy was dragging another guy. I’m not totally sure what happened, but the singer moved to that side of the stage and said, “We must have a birthday in the audience….everybody mellow out, it’s okay. Let him stay. *pause* Oh fine, take him out of here!” After the song ended, he added, “Rue the Day [song] seemed to ruffle a few feathers.” We all laughed because we’re all friends like that.

I never let myself listen to a band’s music on the day of a concert. I’d had the lyrics to “The Rat” stuck in my head all day, so it felt sooo good to have that craving filled by the second song of the show. They played every single one of my favorite songs.  I only wish everyone else would just lip sync like me. None of us want to hear your off-key version, friends. Oh well.

I’ve wanted to see The Walkmen in a proper venue for so many years but they never came to Indiana. It was worth the wait. I was so happy.

There was a horn quartet for a quarter of the show. I love brass. Vocals were dead-on. The crowd was mostly quiet during quiet songs. They played 4 new songs which gave me promise for the next album. Other highlights were “We’ve Been Had”, closing my eyes and swaying to “Hang on, Siobhan”, Leithauser [lead singer] bent over backwards wailing during “On the Water”, and having a real Canadian nudge me and yell the name of the song, “Canadian Girl!”. Near the end, they took requests for 3-4 songs, before starting to wrap up the night. The second-to-last song was an epic rendition of “Thinking of a Dream I Had”, a song I have screamed along to many a times in my car. It’s just great to be part of a celebratory show. Leithauser told us, “We’re so happy to be spending our birthday at this place. We love it here and knew it’s where we wanted to celebrate. Hell, I’m happy to spending it with this band. It’s been a great 10 years.” It was pretty adorable. It’s nice to see a band stay together so long and still look like they’re having a great time. The ballerina photo behind the stage was taken by one of the dad of one of the band members at Bimbo’s [a great venue in SF] about 40 years ago. That was a righteous touch.

Setlist coming soon… setlist.fm

Rural Idaho

The road narrowed as I neared Sandpoint and suddenly, I was on a bridge. It looked more like a dock than a bridge. Looking out left or right, one could think they were driving directly on the water itself. It was pretty magical. With some research, I found the nearly 2-mile bridge is appropriately named The Long Bridge. I stopped in downtown Sandpoint, but I couldn’t seem to find a place from which I could spot the bridge for a photo. I got a call from my friend in Whitefish as I was about to pull out of my spot. While I was trying to talk to her, I noticed a lady sitting by the window in the Starbucks trying to get my attention. It was hard to read her lips while having a separate phone conversation but I laughed when I finally decoded her message and pointing. She was saying, “I like your car”. All I could do was smile and give her a thumb’s up as thanks. Too funny.

As soon as I turned on to US-200, I was instantly struck by the beauty of the marshes of Lake Pend Oreille. The road traced the edge of the water nearly to the state line.

Lake Pend Oreille

Lake Pend Oreille

Lake Pend Oreille

Just before Montana, I followed signs to the Cabinet Gorge Dam. There was a great view, made better by being the only one there. Apparently there used to be gigantic ice dams keeping the water from leaving western Montana. When those melted, water flooded across Idaho and Washington, in the largest flood known to have occurred on Earth (at least according to the sign posted at the viewpoint).

Cabinet Gorge Dam

I followed a tip I read online and cut up Bull River Rd. Best advice ever. The cabinet mountains were nestled behind a crystal blue stream lined the entire road. It was so serene. Montana really was the treasure state.

Cabinet Mountain wilderness

Once I rejoined US-2, I pulled over at Kootenai Falls. It said it was only a half mile walk to the falls lookout. When I got to said lookout, I couldn’t see anything, so I decided to explore further. I ended up following a trail over some railroad tracks and down a dirt trail. I still wasn’t close enough, so I climbed down until I was right at the water. At last I had the view I was looking for. The water was rushing down the river bed with waterfalls and cascades and there I stood in the middle of it on a jutting rock. Perfection.

Kootenai Falls

Kootenai Falls

The rest of the drive to Whitefish was full of wide open spaces. There were large paved bike & pedestrian trails along all the highways. I bet that’s an amazing bike ride. I finally arrived to Whitefish and checked in to the Cheap Sleep Motel. There was a shy, mild-mannered man working the front desk. Turns out, he had lived around the Bay area for 8 years, the same amount of time he’d lived there in Whitefish. I asked his preference. Without hesitation, he said, “Here. But there are getting to be too many people.” I expected him to have some kind of debate but no.

I wasn’t sure what to expect from the motel but my room was large & clean. It was a great stay for only $50 a night.

Cheap Sleep Motel, Whitefish, MT

Coincidentally, I found out after booking my trip that my high school best friend’s older sister, Melissa, lived in Whitefish. I headed to her house to have dinner with her family. They had the most adorable arts & crafts bungalow. I loved it. Though I didn’t know them well, it was nice to see a familiar face after 3 days of strangers. I had a really nice time hanging out with them and luckily, they warned me about the curfew bell that sounds at 10 PM. It sounded on my way home and I would have been really confused otherwise.

While I was stopped for gas near my motel, I heard a man’s voice somewhere behind me. “Excuse me, lil’ ladee.” I turned around and saw a man standing in the shadows by his truck (watch horror movies much, mindy?) and realized he was talking to me. No other little ladies at the pump. He was curious about my car’s gas mileage. It was only funnier because I’d just told Melissa that my car had become sort of spectacle on this trip. Therefore, this conversation seemed to happen almost on cue. He wished me a safe journey and I left knowing I would be described as “some city girl from San Francisco in a tiny car” at a local coffee shop the next morning. Classic.

I enjoyed my morning breakfast with Sherry, the owner, the next morning. I had a bowl full of fresh raspberries, stuffed french toast, sausage, and hashbrowns. It was so much food and all so good! She was asking about San Francisco and told me about the last time she was there in the heart of the 60s. I noticed the state plates that decorated the kitchen/dining area. My grandma was a collector of those same plates so I recognized a few. It was such a tiny coincidence but made me feel like I knew her. I really enjoyed our chat. She directed me to check out Pilot Butte on my way out of town. It was a huge hill with a road that spiraled to the top, offering a 360-degree view of the city and surrounding mountains.

View from Pilot Butte

Then came the low-point of my trip: Oregon gas stations. Dear Oregon, if you have weird laws that other states don’t, you should post them at the state line. I pulled up to the gas station and started going about my business of filling up. Two people came up offering to help and I politely declined. The third guy showed up and explained that it’s against the law for me to pump my own gas. I thought he must be joking. He wasn’t. It was awkward. I’d already entered my card and pushed the necessary buttons, so all that was left for him to do was put the hose in the tank. It was silly. What a weird and unhelpful way to provide jobs. They are self-service pumps my friends. It’s like having a bank teller at ATM’s. They were nice about it, but really, it should be posted. I no idea. In protest, I vowed to never buy gas in Oregon for the rest of the trip.

My moment of redemption came on the road as I was leaving town. I met another Mini on the road and gave a friendly wave. The woman looked at me confused but waved back anyway. I’ll take it!

Mountain Marker between Madras & Shaniko

As I headed north, I saw miles of nothing. Just grasslands as far as I could see. I’d always imagined Oregon as consisting entirely of coniferous forests, which I guess is descriptive of the west side I’ve never seen. If someone had blindfolded me and dropped me in this place, Oregon is the last place I would have guessed as my location. I randomly came upon a sign for a “Mountain Marker” and pulled over to check it out. I was in the middle of nowhere and yet, there was this place pointing to all the different mountains viewable from that point. It was a neat discovery. Mount Hood was the only one I could actually see.

Halfway to the Equator, outside Shaniko

Outside Shaniko, I finally encountered the 45th Parallel Marker, halfway point between the equator and the north pole. It was a major downer, which in retrospect, I should have photographed the full sad scene. Across the street from the sign was a broken down semi. Thirty feet beyond the sign was a deer carcass. Rigor mortis had set in. I debated not stopping, half out of respect for the dead animal and half out of fear of that a crazy truck driver would jump out and kidnap me. I took my chances but felt like I was taking pictures at a funeral, so I didn’t stay long.

It was smalltown after smalltown for the rest of Oregon. These towns were more ghost towns. The buildings were completely dilapidated but I saw signs in the window noting they were “open”. In between these towns were huge fields. The tractors working the ground were kicking up huge clouds of dust. They looked like mini tornadoes. I was curious what would grow somewhere that’s so dry. They keep all their straw bales under side-less sheds with no concerns of them getting wet, whereas in Indiana, we had to postpone bailing until the forecast called for enough days to let the bails dry in the sun before storing.

Miles of gold

Holiday, just outside Biggs Junction

Near the Washington border, I noticed a semi that might need to change lanes soon so I backed off a bit and sure enough, he flipped on his turn signal. As soon as he was able to get back in the right lane and let me pass, he flashed all his truck lights and gave me a big friendly wave. I wish I’d had one of those happy sounding horns to signal in return. I do my best to keep Holiday’s road reputation positive. Good motoring karma.

I stopped in Biggs Junction for gas and a Dr. Pepper (my drug of choice for the trip). Just as I was about to pull out of my parking spot, a lady got out of the truck that just pulled in next to me and tapped on my driver’s window. I rolled down my window, instantly fearing I’d done something wrong. All she wanted to say was, “I love your car!”. I’d forgotten that Mini’s were such a novelty outside of SF. We were becoming celebrities.

John Day Dam

I continued along the Columbia River and passed the John Day Dam. Over on the Washington side were rows of wind turbines lining the river. I stopped in Umatilla to check out a large cowboy sign listed as a roadside attraction. Not only was it underwhelming but full of awkward. Turns out it was part of a grocery store sign and as I pulled into the parking lot, 3 small unaccompanied children ran across the highway and through the lot. The little girl fell and started crying. All this happened as I was trying to find a place to park. I was so distracted by wondering where their parents were to really focus on the task at hand. I ended up parking right under the sign. Roadside America sort of let me down on this one.

Cowboy sign in Umatilla

Welcome to Washington

As I crossed the river into Washington, the scene changed again. It looked like green cornfields as far as I could see. I never associated corn with Washington. Maybe it was just a similar looking crop. Once I got further from the river, it changed to vineyards and finally back to the dry grasslands I’d seen in Oregon.

Marianna Stoltz House

“The Green Room”

My B&B in Spokane was coincidentally located on Indiana Ave. The Marianna Stoltz House was beautifully decorated in a Victorian theme and had a lovely wrap-around porch. The only other people staying in the house were leaving for South Africa at the crack of dawn the next morning. I think they were afraid of being robbed because they moved all of their several pieces of huge luggage out of the car and up the stairs to their room. They weren’t very social. The lady running the B&B in the owner’s absence (they were in SF, oddly enough) was very friendly. She basically tried setting me up with both of her sons while I stood in the yard taking pictures of the place.

Gonzaga University

It was so hot that I had to change into cooler clothes before venturing out to explore Spokane. Gonzaga University was only a few blocks away, so I walked there in search of food. It was Sunday and everything was closed. And in all my travels, I’d forgotten what day it was…the 10th anniversary of Sept 11. It seems it would have been a day impossible to overlook had I been anywhere but the open road. My meandering for food led me through campus and by some old industrial buildings that gained intrigue in the evening sun. A Jimmy John’s provided sustenance and a pink sky entertained my walk back to the B&B.

Beautiful evening sky

I had an amazing sleep because my bed was so comfortable. It’s a little embarrassing to admit, but I actually told the woman the next morning at breakfast that it felt like the bed was giving me a hug. I took off the sheets to discover the source of such comfort. It was a 5” foam topper. Heaven.

Morning in Spokane

Breakfast was a little awkward. I was the only guest and the lady overseeing the place decided to sit and talk to me while I ate. It started out pleasant enough but talk of God & politics made me feel a little upset. Luckily, I had an excuse to hit the road and leave the tension of the moment. She had at least advised me on an alternate route to Montana, so our conversations weren’t a complete wash.

800 W Garland Ave, Spokane

I did a quick stop at one of the two milk bottle buildings in Spokane before ending up lost in my attempt to find the Riverfront park. At last I found it. It was quite pretty with a bell tower, sculptures, and amusements (not open for me to partake). I bet it’s lovely to work downtown and have that as a lunchtime escape.

Riverfront Park

“The Childhood Express”

The main reason I stopped at the park was to check out The Childhood Express, a 12-foot, 26-ton Radio Flyer wagon/slide. I waited until I didn’t see anyone around and climbed to the top. My attempts to film myself failed, so I had to go for the first-person angle.

And with that public humiliation, I headed back for the car, but not before stopping for a bathroom break. The bathroom happened to be under an outdoor auditorium where a random group of men were jamming. I basically got a free concert while I peed. That was cool. And with that, I was finally on my way to Montana.

Sunrise along I-5

Glass Sundial Bridge

I stopped in Redding to visit the Glass Sundial bridge. It was much more magnificent than the small pedestrian bridge I expected. The stroll across it was an enjoyable break for my legs after driving for almost 4 hours. I explored the grounds just enough to see how the sundial components were laid out over a huge area.

Sundial Glass Bridge

Sundial Glass Bridge

The scenery took a drastic change as I continued north out of the flat plains of the valley toward the mountains. It was impossible to snap photos but the drive through Shasta Lake was gorgeous: pristine lakes and curving roads with Mount Shasta rising in the distance.

Entering Oregon

I veered off the interstate at Weed, CA. I had a little chuckle at the sign and continued on my way. Just before Oregon, I passed through a sleepy little town called Dorris. It had so many photo opps that I couldn’t let myself stop for fear I’d miss the rest of my stops. It felt a lot like the town of Marshall I used to drive through on the way to school every morning, complete with the highway making right-angle turns all through town. It was a glimpse back in time with the grain elevator and all the gas stations & motels looking untouched since the 1960’s. As I curved out of town, I saw the state line up ahead. It was poetic timing as a John Deere tractor & semi-trailer passed just as I snapped my photo of the welcome sign. It was such an Indiana moment. As a kid, I would have sighed in frustration if I ended up behind a tractor on the highway but now they’re a welcome reminder of home.

The landscape evolved yet again as I went further into Oregon. It was high desert country with miles of shrubs dotting the otherwise barren landscape framed by rolling hills in the distance. They were repaving the road so I got delayed almost an hour by road construction. It was such a nice day, though, that I just rolled down the windows and breathed in the desert air. I drew some stares from passersby when I parked just shy of the train tracks running parallel to the highway to snap some photos. If only there had been a train! I wanted a photo of Holiday in front of one. Next time.

High desert in Oregon

Train tracks along US-97N

As I neared Crater Lake, everything seemed more green and lush with cattle dotting the pastures. As I stopped to photograph, I couldn’t help but picture myself in front of a tiny little house situated in this scene. Even the barbed wire fence made me feel at home.

Crater Lake

Entering a national park is like entering a magical land. It’s as if they drew a line and put everything kind of amazing on one side and everything crazy amazing on the other. I knew I was within bounds of Crater Lake before I even saw the sign. My entry was marked by the sudden appearance of towering trees between which I caught glimpses of massive ravines. The anticipation was literally killing me. I’d been waiting to see Crater Lake since I first heard about it a few years ago. As soon as I pulled on to Rim Drive, the road which circles the lake, I pulled off at the first turnout, aptly named Discovery Point. I had to walk up a few feet before the water came into view. My first sight was of the image below. It took my breath away. Even though I was by myself, I blurted, “holy shit that’s amazing!” before nervously glancing around to see if I’d offended anyone. I hadn’t but I bonded with the lady nearby, who was equally awestruck. In that moment, I decided that this trip was amazing regardless of how the rest of it played out.

Discovery Point at Crater Lake

The water seemed too blue to be real. Pictures hardly did it justice. I wished I could have been there for sunrise/sunset, a desire I knew would continue for every location, but I had blue skies and nice weather so I couldn’t complain. Even better were all the nice people. Away from the stresses of life and work, nearly everyone said hello or smiled. As I pulled out of the Wizard Island outlook, a motorcyclist driving by gave Holiday the “good work” pistol-like hand gesture (I imagined he made the click sound with it). Holiday & I were both flattered by the shout-out so I gave a friendly return wave. Made my day.

I went down to Cleetwood Cove, which was the only spot from which you could access the water. It was a steep one-mile hike which literally zig-zagged down the side of a cliff. I was barely halfway down before I began dreading the trip back up. I came across an older man, maybe early 60s, trying to take a photo of himself on the trail. I offered to help but he politely declined saying, “nah, I’m just trying to give my friends proof that I’m alive.” I laughed because I was in the same situation.

I opted out of taking the boat ride and instead clamored down some rocks until I was sitting on a rock at the water’s edge. I took my shoes off and let my feet soak in the cool waters. It felt almost 80 degrees in the sun, so the water was refreshing. I felt something nibble at my feet and looked down to discover a crayfish living under the rock. The water was so clear that I could see pretty much everything. As soon as I broke out my snack, I was joined by a friendly chipmunk as well. He was just about to break into my bag when I turned around and caught him in the act. He had apparently been harassing the group of people nearby. I minded his presence less than they did. I absorbed the serenity of the lake, hoping it would make the hike back up that hill slightly less exhausting.

Crater Lake from Cleetwood Cove

On the return hike, I got behind two elderly couples. We all stopped for a breather at the same corner and one of the men joked, “Are we there yet?”. He read my mind. I was enjoying eavesdropping on their conversations. I assumed they were all traveling together but the couples were perfect strangers, just comparing travel stories and recommendations, inter-mixed with “complaints” about the choices of their children. I imagined my grandparents had had similar conversations on their travels.

As I continued along Rim Drive, I saw numerous towers of smoke out in the valley of forests. Signs were posted, “Natural fires. Do not report.” Many of the trees appeared inverted from the wind. All of their branches were stripped on the side facing the wind. It’s easy to overlook the harsh conditions such a breathtaking place experiences, as well as forget the incredible volcanic force that initially created it. I didn’t make it over to the spires where volcanic ash had left rock formations.

Crater Lake

As soon as I left the park, I found myself in the Pumice Desert. It contained miles of nothing. It looked more desert-like than Death Valley. It only lasted a few miles and the rest of the drive to Bend would be through corners of national forests, a welcome contrast.

Bend

Bend was a cute town. It smelled of wood chips, which wasn’t a bad thing just unexpected. I suppose there was a saw mill nearby. The main road had exits instead of intersections. It seemed like a good idea for locals, but it made it a little difficult for me to backtrack after I realized I missed a turn. I made it to my B&B with a little help from my iPhone. I didn’t know what to expect from The Country Inn the City. Despite having no online reviews, I couldn’t beat their price of $47.50. I was met at the gated drive by the owner and her 2 dogs. She was a friendly woman, just shy of 60, who had the personality of a retired elementary school teacher (it’s a good thing). We’d barely said hello before the conversation shifted to my car. It was love at first sight. As soon as I parked, she was asking all about it. I opened the door and invited her to have a seat. She’d always admired them from a distance, but this was her first time sitting in one. She was delighted and immediately started planning her life with a MINI. I love watching the childlike wonder that flashes over so many people’s eyes in the presence of my car.

She introduced me to the dogs dancing around and one of the women who lives in a separate apartment building behind the house. It’s a neat concept actually. She rents the rooms to single women who don’t want to live alone. They get the independence of having their own place without the loneliness. It felt like a big extended family and they have a huge backyard to share.

The Country Inn the City B&B, Bend, OR

I got a tour of the house. It was a large, historic home so it had little quirks that I appreciated. My room was upstairs and the bed was situated under a very sloped ceiling. I definitely hit my head on it during my stay. It was inevitable. The room was large & cozy, though. I felt like I was staying with some distant relatives I’d just found out existed but without the awkward expectation of staying in touch with them. Hah.

Room in the B&B

After settling in to my room, I took off for dinner downtown. I was surprised how easy it was to find free parking on a Saturday night. I put my name in at Deschutes Brewery and strolled around “Old Bend” to pass the time. It was really clean but kind of empty. I saw a theater and passed a bunch of closed shops.

Downtown Bend

I was so hungry by the time I got a table. It had been 600 miles & 15 hours since I’d had an official meal. I literally devoured the beer braised pork shoulder, tillamook cheddar mashed potatoes, and green beans. It was so good. Even though I’m not at all a beer person, I thought I should embrace the spirit of my adventure, so I got a glass of The Stoic. It was unlike anything I’d ever had, so I don’t know if I actually liked it as much as I was just intrigued by the flavors. It had hints of citrus, vanilla, pepper, and toasted caramel. It had 11% alcohol, so even with only drinking half, I was incredibly paranoid driving the few miles back to the B&B.

The Stoic at Deschutes Brewery

It was probably the most I had ever crammed into a single day. I was exhausted but excited that my trip was starting off on such a high note.

I fell asleep to the sound of train whistles, a sound that initially made me jump, the same way fog horns did my first night in my SF apartment. I’m sure it’s a sound everyone in Bend has learned to tune out, so it was funny to think how something as ordinary as a train whistle could sound so foreign to me.

And I have to end with the dream I had that night:

In the dream, I was in my room at the B&B. The owner came in and asked when I wanted to get up. I thought I was still sleeping when she came in so I was confused when I realized I was standing there in my PJs holding a razor shaving my legs. I walked out of the room and my parents were there. I said, “Wait, I’m feeling a little strange…it’s like I just woke up from a dream.” I drilled them about the events of yesterday. I knew I’d left on my drive and spent the day at Crater Lake. I tried to prove to them that whatever *this* was, it wasn’t reality. I said, “I really hope this is the dream. I know I was on a great trip and I had a perfect day yesterday. I know that was real.” They were all trying to convince me it wasn’t.

My parents were still together in the dream so it was pretty powerful for me to choose the reality that included my trip over the false one. It made me happy to know that my subconscious was so onboard with this adventure. Maybe I was on more of a spirit quest than I realized.

Friday night I went out for after work drinks for the first time in months. There was plenty of good laughs and conversation. I called it an early night because I had my first horseback trail ride the next morning. It was a very gray day for my trail ride. The horse, Cash, was new to me and we struggled a bit. It was slow-going as he didn’t seem to feel motivated, so my instructor had to keep waiting for me to catch up. It was a great experience, even though it showed me how much I have yet to learn about riding. There wasn’t a level part of the trail and riding up/downhill was completely different from riding in a circle. I saw a covey of quail and a coyote along the way. As we climbed, we had a view of the whole Tamalpais Valley and would have seen the ocean were it not for the fog. It was intense, climbing through the visibly blowing fog. I hurt so much afterward. I finally understood the warnings of pain everyone had given me before I took up riding. The ride was just around 2 hours and I was so tired afterward.

I had already committed myself to going out Saturday night, though, so out I went. It was a nightmare. The bus never came so I ended up walking 1.5 miles uphill until I found one. I met up with some people at The Knockout and ended up running into several other people. It was a fun couple hours until I tried to go home, which turned into another series of bus fails and 3 miles of walking. That paired with the horseback riding yielded me an unusable back the next morning. It was slow moving.

Work continued with intensity throughout this week. Sallie gave us a welcome break by scheduling an afternoon tea. We had pasties, tea, and a bunch of English treats. It was the highlight of the week. We even watched a bit of an English soap, East Enders. Perfectly lovely disruption of the day.

I managed to squeeze in a phone call with Kali Thursday night, even though I should have been sleeping. It was good to talk to her, though. It was a summer half day on Friday and I had plans to go to a barbeque later but I was so tired that I ended up finding a quiet corner of the office and falling asleep. Sallie & I finally made it over. It was a pre-burning man party. Everyone knows that I tend to be a burning man hater, so it made for an interesting night. I got to see a Creative Director hula hoop for the first time. People from all around the world who had flown in for the festival showed up. France, Australia, Morocco, Brazil, and England were all represented. I even met a girl named Ocean. I did my best not to feel out of place. I realized they weren’t judging me for not being a burner. I had so many conversations that I can’t even recall most of them. I know I had to list my top 3 bands I’d want to see live, dead or alive, and that Aussies don’t think Silverchair is a guilty pleasure band.

I was up until 6:30am. People came & went and the ratio of burners to non-burners kept getting greater and greater. I found myself in an intense discussion about the festival and drugs. It’s safe to assume I was greatly out-numbered. Everyone was pretty cool, though. It didn’t turn into a fight. We just talked about it and one of the Aussies thanked me for such a good debate when they left. It was the perfect grand finale to my socializing quest. I argued something I felt strongly about to a group of people, only 1 of which I’d met before that night.

I hope I’m not around that much cigarette smoke again anytime soon, but it was great to have such varied company & conversation.

Thursday night, I managed to catch Kali while she was in town. I met up with her & some of Caio’s friends in North Beach. It was nice to see her. I still seem to forget she doesn’t live here. We capped off the night with some delicious philly cheesesteaks at Buster’s (and now I want one…dang).

I had an underwhelming date Friday but managed to pull off an exciting night with Tim & Emily and their friend’s last night in SF.

I took Ryan to my horseback riding lesson. The ladies were a fan of having a male spectator. They didn’t need to know he’s gay. Afterward we went up to the Marin Co. Fair. It was a crazy hot day (95-degrees), so the walk from the parking lot to the fair felt like an epic journey. I went with the intention of fulfilling my hometown fair fix, but it became immediately obvious, this place wasn’t going to do that. Large, clean bathrooms and well-dressed families. You call this a fair? I think I only saw two goth kids roaming the carnival.

I settled my foot long corn dog craving with a regular sized chicken corn dog :-/ And the snocone guy I picked didn’t even have multiple flavors and he served it in a cup. Minor setbacks. We walked around the so-called barnyard, which was a little sad. There were about 3-4 animals representing each of the large animal species. No sign of 4-H kids and their livestock. I got to see a litter of potbelly piglets, so it wasn’t a total wash.

We took a ride on the Scrambler in prep for The Zipper, which was Ryan’s one request for the day. No amount of mental preparation can prep a person for the first roll. He made an attempt to film us. I tried keeping my eyes open but decided I couldn’t risk it. It’d been so long since I’d been on an intense ride, I didn’t know what skills I’d lost with age. His snippet doesn’t fully capture how much we screamed like little girls. We out-screamed every person on the ride.

It was so hot that we decided a trip on the swings would be refreshing. It was like 5 minutes of heaven. My bare feet dangling as we spun in the breeze. I will say it’s the most scenic view I’ve ever had from a carnival ride with the Frank Lloyd Wright-designed civic building and rolling hills in the distance.

We walked through the exhibit hall to soak up some A/C. Scott Weaver’s Rolling through the Bay toothpick contraption was center stage. We walked up just as he was about to do a demonstration with the ping pong balls. That was cool to see it run in person.

Since Golden Gate Bridge’s 75th anniversary is next year, that was the theme of this year’s fair. They had a competition for making a replica bridge using chairs, which had some pretty good submissions. There were also walls of photography/paintings on display. I thought this painting was particularly striking…standing in front of it, you literally felt as if you were staring down the side. The judges seemed to agree based on the purple ribbon.

Also, there was a big exhibit devoted to artifacts, timelines, and historic photos/info about the building of the bridge. We only read some highlights. I think we were both too tired to take the hour it would have taken to read it all. But still, seeing photos like this was pretty awesome. I’m a total nerd for old photos and trying to figure out the vantage point from which they were taken, especially when they’re town/city images.

I wrapped up the holiday weekend watching fireworks from my sofa. I never remember how much they rattle my place each year.

Gillian Welch

This show was officially the first time I’d paid for a concert ticket without having ever heard the artist’s music. I was pretty sure Gillian had performed with Bright Eyes on a track, but that was all I knew of her. Well, I left a complete fan. There were no openers or any of that business, just her & David Rawlings, a couple guitars, and a banjo & harmonica. They were a charming duo with just the right amount of banter and good humor. Watching David play guitar was pretty incredible. She took his guitar from him and played a bit on it. “See, it’s just a regular guitar. He makes it sound that way.” They played at The Warfield. It was my first time there and it was really pretty & ornate…but nearly every medium-sized venue in SF seems to be. It’s sad because it makes them seem slightly less spectacular with each one you attend. Anyway, she said she was at The Pixies show at that venue when they danced so hard they collapsed the balcony. Kind of cool to hear stories like that. She was one of the most humble & genuine & plain (I mean that as a compliment) people I’ve ever seen perform. Great show!

Buck

Last Sunday, I ventured down to Lumiere Theatre to see Buck. It was a really tiny room, but I was finally able to check another local theatre off my list. The film was great, though. The people came across as very genuine and the honest dialogue made me laugh. It was also quite emotional from the sense that you saw a man who had truly found his passion/gift. It naturally hit me on another level seeing the country life, father/daughter bonding, & way in which some horses used to be treated. I walked away feeling inspired about a number of things.

It made for a great Sunday. It was such a pretty day that I decided to walk home from the theatre with a stroll up Polk. I always forget about that street and the cool places it seems to house.

Casablanca

This Friday, I went with Tim, Emily, & Ryan to see Casablanca at Davies Symphony Hall. They were screening the film while the symphony played live accompaniment. I can’t decide what would have made it better, but it wasn’t quite as awesome as I hoped. The music sounded so good that the film’s dialogue seemed less good and at times, they didn’t quite balance out with levels. However, I love the movie and I’d never seen it on the big screen, so I still thoroughly enjoyed the night. They had a man at a piano doing sing-a-long’s in the lobby, which the old people were totally participating in. It made me smile.

Riding

I can’t believe I’m already through 7 of my 10 horseback riding lessons. They’re flying by. I suppose they haven’t really gotten me as far as I expected, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I tend to be cocky about thinking I can do things, so it’s been humbling to be critiqued and limited in what I’m allowed to do. The last few lessons, I’ve been riding an 18-year-old mare, Merri Silver (in the pic). She fights me a little but I don’t mind it. The other geldings I rode fought me in a different way…by not wanting to move. Merri likes to go. Getting her to stop is the hard part. I’ve felt a total difference riding her, though. With the dudes, I was so focused on trying to get them to go that I couldn’t focus on my form and everything else.

I felt really good about today’s lesson. Merri didn’t even try to creep once we halted and our trotting plus turning went pretty well. Merri shares a paddock with a more rambunctious horse, so I can’t put her away by myself. It’s fun, though, because the last two weeks it’s given me a chance to chat with the instructor’s wife, Teresa. She’s a lovely woman, even though she never remembers my name. She takes Merri in while I hold the gate and handle throwing in the hay. Merri always acts a little weird at the end of the ride, and I fear it’s because she hates me. Though, I think it’s because she’s hungry (all the other horses get some hay before our ride, she gets it after).

Anyway, I was sharing my concerns with Teresa and she assured me that I’m doing really well with Merri. Apparently, my personality is complementary to Merri’s. She needs someone who is quiet and attentive, which is why I was picked to ride her. I was glad she shared that tidbit with me, as I was genuinely convinced Merri didn’t like me. She further explained that you have to be pretty terrible for a horse to hate you haha. I suppose that’s reassuring. It’s just that I feel extra pressure to keep Merri happy because I know she’s the favorite of the barn’s manager. I can understand why. I think she’s pretty close to the personality of the horse I’d like to have some day. I’ve been taken mental notes of characteristics to look for.

The time between lessons seems to go so slowly. I’ve taken my Wii Fit back up and hope to do it at least every other day. So many of the balance & core strength exercises directly relate to riding. I think I felt a difference today just from doing the few yoga exercises the night before. You have to be extremely loose to ride well, and I think that’s half the appeal of riding. I would stay in a constant state of tension otherwise. I will save the great realizations about the life lessons learned from this experience for another post.

Having only been away for three years, I didn’t expect these sensations to strike on my first summer visit back to Indiana since my move. And yet, the night I arrived, I was walking to pick up pizza with Amy and I noticed a glow. The lightning bugs were just starting to make their appearance in the dusk. Soon, they were all around and one landed on Amy’s hand. Suddenly, I was a little girl running around the backyard trying to hold these little creatures in my hand to marvel at their glowing bodies. A part of me wanted to cry at how happy I felt having them surround me. It was a wonderful feeling to have back what I hadn’t consciously realized I missed.

The next morning, the cutest thing happened. Amy & Fi came downstairs and Fi was happily going about her energetic morning routine, until I said “hi” from the couch. She froze in her tracks and turned like she’d been caught stealing candy. We cracked up. I spent the rest of the day talking with Amy and helping bake a birthday cake for Adam. It was perfectly chill.

We spent the night at Scott & Steph’s. I barely knew them before I moved away, but somehow from 2,500 miles away, they’ve become two of my favorites! Scott gave a tour of their brewing setup and garden. Somehow I’m friends with highly motivated people but none of that rubs off on me. Anyway, I couldn’t have planned a better way to see all my friends. We had 5 dogs running around the yard and a vintage projection screen was setup outside for our viewing of Back to the Future. Naturally, Scott & Alex planned some elaborate introduction for the whole thing…I wish I could remember who filmed that… With a background of lightning bugs in the surrounding field and snacks in-hand, it was the perfect night. We all started tweeting about the experience in a futile attempt to make it the trending topic on Twitter hehe. Nerds.

I slept on the couch in the basement and was awoken in the middle of the night by footsteps on my body. There was definitely a moment of panic, but soon I heard purring. Apparently a cat had been shut-in with me. She curled up beside me and I fell back asleep. (I wish I could remember the crazy dream I had. I remember sharing it in the morning because it was so absurd. I think my brain had tried to communicate the presence of the cat by casting it as a crazy robot or something.) I was feeling spoiled by all the 4-legged attention. I became best friends with their boxer the following morning while we watched the premiere of Wilfred (loved it, btw). We finally decided we should leave the house, so a trip to Chick-filet was in order before hitting up an antique mall. We didn’t get far before the children lost patience with the whole thing. We were all kind of tired.

A nap was in order before Amy & I headed out for the night. We started with dinner at Saffron Cafe. I had an amazing lamb tajine, with the sweetness of prunes, apricots, pears, & cinnamon. It was so delicious and the atmosphere was so pretty with the stacks of tajines and colored glass fixtures. The sitar player right behind us completed the greatness.

We split the rest of the night between two spots. First, we had a table by the open window at Ball & Biscuit, a vintage meets modern lounge where we each had a cocktail containing St. Germaine Elderflower Liqueur. It was new since I moved. We closed the evening at an old favorite, The Rathskellar, where a cover band played on the outdoor stage. We just enjoyed the still-warm weather and talked until we decided we were tired. A hilarious foot story happened in the midst, but I’ve promised not to speak of it.

The next morning I hit the road for home for a Father’s day lunch. Kyle brought over his girlfriend’s 3-pound yorkie poo, Harley, which seemed even tinier in context of the pitbull and bull terrier also running around. I convinced Kyle to let me puppy sit for the afternoon. Harley & I became great friends. I realized if I had a dog her size, my landlord would never be the wiser. Dad took me over to the farm to fetch the 4-wheeler, which I rode around the farm and back over to the house, cutting back to our cabin in the woods. The ride in the woods was a bit treacherous, crossing creeks and climbing eroded hills, but naturally, so much fun.

When I got back to the house, I took Harley to play outside. She looks a bit like a rabbit when she runs with her small frame and big ears. She wore me out. We walked all around the house and had some attempted games of fetch. She never quite mastered the bringing it back part. I couldn’t believe how fast she moved (see video below). It was pretty hilarious. She was such a good dog. Didn’t bark and just followed me around. I was sad when she had to go home, but Kyle did bring over his pitbull, Milo, who immediately clambered up on the chair with me. He was always my favorite, the 70lb lap dog.

I spent most of the next morning looking for things in my old room and (sadly) realizing items were missing. I talked to my dad’s girlfriend for a couple hours before helping prep lunch. She’s nice and it was good to finally have a chance to get to know her. In the afternoon I headed to Carmel to fetch Adam from work. We had dinner along The Monon at Detour. It was a pleasant evening, so we popped across the way to Bub’s for some birthday cake flavored ice cream cones and walked down The Monon. We checked out some real estate and laughed at how people must have assumed we were on a date or possibly newlyweds looking for a home hehe. It would have been a great date! He started a fire on the deck when we got back and we just talked into the night.

I met up with Adam & Rachel for lunch the next day over at Fort Ben. I got a tour of Adam’s workplace, Midwest Studios. I believe it was the old water treatment building. It was such a beautiful space (photo) and cool to see the prototyping machines and workshops. It seemed like such a fun place to work.

I dropped my clarinet off that afternoon to get it restored to playing condition (now, if only I could track down my sheet music). Then I met up with Mitch for a quick drink at Granite City. I had a tasty Hypno Cosmo. He ordered a pitcher of stout…for himself. It made financial sense haha. Always an adventure with that guy. Rachel hosted a dinner party that night, which worked out beautifully. I finally got to see Eric & Liz and baby Emma. We had some good laughs and we wound down the night by watching Secretariat (of course, I’m game for a horse movie!). And somehow, it was already my last night in Indiana.

I stopped for a visit with Patty before lunch, since Tyler was in Ukraine and I needed to see some member of the family! It so happened that I perfectly timed getting lunch with Adam & Andy at Pizza Hut buffet (oh, the memories there). Before I knew it, I was pulling into the airport and my whirlwind perfection of a visit was coming to an end.

The whole trip made me homesick, of course. It was nice being able to hop from place to place without worrying about finding (safe) parking or waiting for a bus. It was amazing just being able to sit outside in the evenings and talk. I had to remind myself that I was on vacation and if I lived there, I would have a job and stress and I wouldn’t be able to see friends everyday. Still, it’s nice to be somewhere you feel at home (and hang out with 9 different dogs!).

The Midwest will always be the best in my heart.

This week I officially reserved my spot at a ranch in Montana for the fall. In prep for the trip, I started my first horseback riding lesson today. I arrived 30 minutes early (because I’m like that when nervous) which left plenty time to browse the grounds. It felt like heaven from the moment I opened my car door. I changed into my riding boots and immediately breathed in the smell of fresh hay & manure melted in the muggy air. For a second, I thought I was back home on the farm. Smells are crazy like that. It was instantly relaxing. I walked around to each horse and petted any that meandered close enough. My first thought was, “I forgot horses were *this* big.” The more I did comparisons between the size of their features vs mine (their head being the size of my entire torso area, for instance), the more I started psyching myself out on the whole idea. To shut up my brain, I looked around the amazing setting of grass-covered hills and marveled at these magnificent animals. (And there were a bunch of quail scooting about through the paddocks which added +10 awesome.)

I fell in love with the above horse immediately. He was beautiful and likely way bigger than I would ever be comfortable riding. I think he’s a Morgan. He wasn’t all that social which just added to his appeal ;) It reminded me of walking through the stables at the county fair, taking in the different personalities of each horse and memorizing all their names. Any fears I had were shadowed by how happy I was to be around these animals and all the years I’d wondered what it was like to ride them.

This guy was hilarious. He was totally “in your face”. He seemed to hope my iphone was a snack. I was really made for a life consisting entirely of non-human mammals. I love trying to connect with them and time in their presence flies by.

Today’s lesson was mostly an orientation. The instructors are a husband/wife duo. They’re Irish and seem to be 55-65 in age. They’re an entertaining pair, but both genuinely interested in teaching, seemingly blessed with patience and good spirits. My class consists of 5 females. One of them seemed to be about my age and the other 3 are mid-40’s/50’s. They’re all very nice and encouraging…no egos at play, which is refreshing. I’m the only one with no riding experience and so in the small bit we did today, it was encouraging to feel like I was able to keep up. We went through the basics of approaching the horse and grooming, as well as touring the tack room and getting down the lingo.

We spent the last 20 min or so of the lesson learning about mounting/dismounting. The following basically sums up the neurosis of my personality but I was less afraid of falling off or being kicked by a horse than I was of being unable to pull myself up on to the saddle. *cough* pride *cough* We were using English saddles which don’t have the little “handle” but they at least had us start by using a step. I was the last one to go and so I watched one-by-one as each woman approached the horse with a look on her face that implied she was about to jump in a snake pit. The first woman took a series of deep breaths and yelped an “Oh shit!” once she actually got on. Recall. All of these women had ridden at some point in their lives. Their reactions were not reassuring. The woman right before me lost her balance and fell on the step. Thus, I mentally prepared myself for wiping out.

So, I stuck my foot in the stirrup, grabbed the reins and some hair with one hand and the saddle with the other, whispered some kind of “sink or swim” motivating words to myself, and went for it. Success! Got it on my first try. I attribute my year of biking to being able to keep my balance, because that really was the key. I thought it would require more strength but the trickiest part was not swiveling the wrong way in the stirrup.

They walked us around in a circle so we could start to get a feel for how the horse moved. That was the most amazing thing to me…I didn’t expect to be moved around so much. They made us keep our feet dangling and I was convinced I was going to slide off. Since I was the last one, I had to sit on the horse while he talked to wrap up the session and the horse kept nudging at the guy. And even though it was just his head moving, it made me feel extremely unsettled atop him. My brain was thinking, “this guy is going to be mid-sentence when he hears me crash to the ground.” I gripped the saddle for dear life and finally tried petting the horse a bit, hoping he would chill out. It seemed to help a little bit. It was cool how each of us cheered for the other after each successful mount/dismount. As the instructor stated, group lessons can actually be better because you get to watch other people and we can help/support each other.

I should document the first horse I technically “rode”. His name was Casino and I think he is a Paint. He was probably only about 5-7 hands but I still felt like I was so high up. It was magnificent. I imagined how in a few months I’d be sitting on a horse like this taking in the views of Montana. (Cue excitement.)

Seriously, that 10 min span of time where I was able to pop myself on top of that horse and stay there brought a whole new meaning to the phrase, “get back on the horse”. It was so empowering. That 10 min equaled (if not surpassed) the impact of my cross-country drive. It was full of “fuck yeah, go me!” These lessons were pretty expensive so my biggest fear was that I would regret the experience. But no regrets. Anything but. All of us left really excited for the next lesson!

Afterward, I met up with Sallie in Sausalito (after 3 years, I’d never been!). We had lunch at this great place, Bar Boccee. I can’t believe I didn’t snap any photos. It was nestled right on the water and lots of boats were out for a sail. We ate on the patio which had a firepit and bocce court. The pizza was amazing and reminded me of my favorite pizza at Macaroni Grill. It was a great time and something we had always talked about doing but had just never scheduled it. So, that’s the second perk of my lessons…I’ll be forced to leave the city for 9 more days. I’d like to spend afternoons exploring Marin more. I might carpool with another lady some days, so that won’t always be an option, but either way just being at the stables is going to be recharging/therapeutic on its own.

View from the top of Lombard St on my midnight climb of the street.

The Good

• Had a great catch up session with Carrie and baby Adelina on Skype
• A very fun & delicious Easter meal with Tim & Emily
• Emily’s birthday dinner at Velvet Cantina with Hallie, Sanjay, & Alice. S’mores nachos for the dessert!
• New Fleet Foxes record
• This awesome toothpick contraption was shared with me: Scott Weavers Rolling Through the Bay
• A friend shares a pen & ink version of a photo I took many years ago
• This animation made me cry (good, because it was a great story)
• Friday the 13th was the only work day I didn’t want to scream. Went to The View Lounge with Tori, Jeremy, and their friend who was in town and later joined up with Kali in the mission who happened to be 2 blocks away from me
• After work dinner date with Kali at E’ Tutto Qua where the waiters were cute and made us feel special. Gorgeous place, too.
• Really fun movie night at Ryan’s. In honor of our last night on Earth, we tried to watch an apocalyptic movie but ended up with Species.
• Rode on a Vespa for the first time when a co-worker offered me a ride home after a late work night. Some dudes yelled, “Hey ladies!” at us. It was petrifying & awesome all at once.
• It was a good last evening at the symphony. Great performance of Mahler’s Symphony No. 5 and the night ended early getting me home at a nice time.
• Five-hour phone convo with Adam.
• Went to HiDive for Kali’s going away party.

The Bad

• Sick…working 14 hour days from home…sick.
• A cyclist ran a redlight and T-boned me, also on a bike
• Shattered my bike pedal…a week later managed to get my seat post stuck in my bike frame
• I went to the museum where the toothpick contraption was on display only to find it was closed for the day.
• Work has been insanely busy and it was review month, which just added to the stress.
• Kali’s last day of work was yesterday.
• Kali is moving to Portland.
• Did I mention it sucks Kali is leaving? :(

The Neutral

• I bought 10 lessons of horseback riding lessons. Hopefully, this ends up on the “good” list.
• I went on a date and had a nice time but I don’t see it going anywhere and I have to tell the dude that (leaning toward “bad” list).

Scott Weavers Rolling Through the Bay at The Exploratorium

Keeping my fingers crossed for June.

Where do I begin? I remember watching you on Weekend Update and thinking, somehow you were like me, but I didn’t know how. Maybe it was the fact that you wore glasses so I cast you as an intellectual. It’s weird. That was so long ago. Back when I wanted to be a banker and (literally) own my hometown. I never obsessively kept up with you like Trent Reznor, but whenever you made an appearance in the world around me, you always felt relevant and real. I loved “Mean Girls” before I even knew you wrote it. And the premiere of 30 Rock bonded so many people in my office. I don’t know what we would have had to talk about it without it.

I never even thought I’d qualify for the Mark Twain Prize for American Humor…I mean maybe the Nathaniel Hawthorne award for judgmental behavior or the Judy Bloom award for awkward puberty or Harper Lee prize for small bodies of work…and yet, I hope, that like Mark Twain, in 100 years people will look at my work and think, “wow that is actually pretty racist.”

What I’m trying to say is I think you’re awesome. And if you ever need a stunt double in a movie, I think I have the hair and hips for the part.

Tonight was incredible. My front row seat in the loge section at the Orpheum Theatre couldn’t have been much better, especially considering this show had sold out and I only got a ticket because they changed venues, opening up a few more tickets. The evening opened with a series of clips spanning her career from Second City to 30 Rock. And, like Bill Cosby, I cried a little when she walked on stage as the screen disappeared out of sight. Watching the highlight reel of all the things she’d done to make me laugh right before seeing her in person just pushed me over an emotional edge, I guess. I was skeptical on how the interview would be run, but Steven Winn did a wonderful job. He kept it moving but covered a lot of ground. She talked a lot about what attracted her to comedy and acting and topics that I’m sure are all covered in her book. I was mostly interested in seeing her mannerisms in a candid setting and noticing how much Liz Lemon comes out. It started from the beginning when she sat in the wrong chair on stage and when Winn asked if she’d like to trade, she just said, “no, no, I’m fine here.” She kept trying to subtly tug up her top, finally asking, “Can you all see my boobs? I’m not used to having them.”

She talked about the season 2 finale of 30 Rock which ended with Liz wanting to adopt a baby. The way they originally wanted to end it was having a sort of flash forward for the whole cast, so Kenneth would be in a hotel room in China with a woman and a gun (at the Olympics) and due to Liz’s liberalism, she would have returned from eastern Europe, not with an adopted baby, but with an old woman and some herculean child that she was a little afraid of. The next season would have opened with her talking about the trials of this living situation with Jack. That would have been soooo hilarious.

Something else I hadn’t realized was that 30 Rock is shot on one camera, like Arrested Development, not multi-cam, like Seinfeld & Cheers, so it takes them a week to shoot an episode vs an afternoon like the other shows. And as an editor, her story about Alec Baldwin’s advice on how to “force a cut” was pretty funny. He told her that if there’s a line you really want to stay on camera for then just take your coat off halfway through delivery. They can’t cut back to you with your coat off. Awesome. A tip he got from Jack Nicholson allegedly.

In speaking about her Second City experience and explaining the rule of “yes” in improv, she mentioned something her mentor, Martin de Maat had always said:

The fun is on the other side of a ‘yes’.

It was something that she tried to apply to life, and I think it’s a great perspective.

She was asked how frightening it was to do improv, while knowing that the “yes” wouldn’t always lead somewhere funny. She said it usually didn’t but that you were always on stage with someone else so you’d go down together. And that the really scary thing is stand-up which she’d never done on anything more than an amateur level. “In stand-up, the highs are higher but the lows are lower.”, she said, “With improv, your comedy may have been killed but you are still physically alive (haha, the way she said it was great).” It made me feel better about the emotional traumas I’d endured as part of stand-up. Her description felt dead-on. It also put me back in regret-mode for not sticking with an open mic.

But really, I felt closest to Tina Fey when she read an excerpt in her book. It described how she felt Mexican in her college, because she wasn’t as white as everyone else (blonde hair/blue eyes). Her recount of an exchange with an attractive guy who approached her while she was with a group of friends and how she opened by insulting him, when it turned out he was coming over to ask her to his frat’s formal, spoke to me. But not quite as much as this…

During my First Year, I had a crush on a brainy, raven-haired boy from my dorm. ... He would ask me at least once a day if I had ever seen the movie Full Metal Jacket. I would remind him that I had not. He would then describe parts of it to me. After several weeks of mistaking this for flirtation, I tried to kiss him one night by the Monroe Hill dorms and he literally ran away. Not figuratively. Literally.

It didn’t take much effort for me to be sitting her in shoes for this story. No wonder I’ve always felt some connection to her. We are the same person. I felt like the only person that found herself in situations like that. And the more I felt related to Tina Fey, the more I hated myself for not doing more with my life, because it seemed we were cut from the same cloth. I mean, I don’t want her life, as cool as it may be, but I do want what she wants, what we all want, to do something people will remember. And to make people laugh.

She said in school, she wasn’t labeled as the “funny one” by any means, but she would get to know people by seeing what made them laugh. And she would judge their intelligence by it, too.

I know what you’re thinking. It’s natural to try to pick up on relations to people you admire, but seriously, I didn’t even have to try. Strip out circumstances of being at all these cool places and knowing famous people and I could be swapped into any of these scenarios with ease.

I don’t even know what to do with this newfound realization that I have all this potential not being channeled into anything productive. I left the show feeling so energized but the more that thought sunk in, the more it morphed to self-loathing. I don’t know what I’m going to do about it, but I bought her book. I’ll probably read it and realize it’s the exact kind of book I would have written so there’s no point in trying. I think I have my autobiography title ready though: “No One Special”. It’s going to be a best-seller…in the dream sequence I play out in my brain where I actually write it…

Regardless of what this inspires, I feel so damn great having gotten the opportunity to see her in person. These sort of opportunities make it hard to have any second-thoughts about living where I do. So many opportunities.