Rise Above

Do you ever feel the need to punctuate a difficult situation by doing something super poignant? Do you ever feel as though the words coming from your mouth aren't nearly as eloquent as you'd like, and a couple minutes after everything dies down, you just want to jump in your car and drive over to their house and hold up a boombox and press play?

I think that might be the movie lover in me that wants to do things like that. Or maybe it's just the hormones. Hey, hold on for a second and think about it. Ever since those little friends of ours got to jumpin' around in our bodies, they've caused us nothing but heartache. I blame them for making people scream into the phone things like "You never loved me!" and "So go ahead and raise goats on a farm in New Zealand with HER, if that's what you really want!" Estrogen and testosterone has sent more than one person to that dark place where hanging up the phone is a solid bargaining tactic, and where throwing things (preferably breakable things like teacups, kitchen appliances, or a cherished record collection) is the solution to all disagreements.

I feel the need to do something unforgettable that changes all the things that are happening right now.

I want to take back everything I said. I was trying to be a big badass and get my bluff called. I was trying to hold my head high and do the noble thing that my mom would have done. Well, apparently my mom is just as much of a wreck as I am, because my bluff wasn't called and now I'm left cursing my big fat mouth. Sure, it was probably the right thing to do. But that isn't stopping me from wishing I hadn't done it.

I've had some really genius ideas in the past few hours. Seriously, some of these are gems. I got rid of the crappy, cliche ideas like text messaging and sappy emails right away. Those were noted and discarded immediately. I have since moved on to things like skywriting, sending dirty pictures in the mail, and fasting. Dumping mountains of greeting cards on the front stoop. Candygrams. Sending organic beef from the midwest. Anything to make this change. Anything.

I started thinking about these things when I realized that lying face down on my kitchen floor with nothing on but a terry cloth robe on was the worst way to accomplish...anything, really. Except dehydrating myself with all the crying and toweling off my body atfer a particularly wet shower. That was the only part of it that was going pretty well.

Truth is, I've gotten what was coming to me. I made one certain turn on this road of life, and now that turn is coming back to haunt me. I think I purposely got myself lost. Who said roadtrips were harmless fun? I feel like hiding right now. My car is both literally and figuratively fucked, and I just want to hit a rest stop and eat something decent from a vending machine.

Keep on driving is the only answer. Sure, I get a bathroom break here and there, and the satellite radio fills the silence. But I have to accept all of this, since I asked for it. I signed up for the trip, and pull my credit card out at every gas station to refill the tank. But damned if I couldn't use a night in a nice motel.

hit on all 6 cylinders. g