Fried Okra and Flying Rolls

I have just spent the day being utterly decadent and finishing a novel that I picked up at the library last weekend with Dereck. It was fantastic and one of those types that you can't put down, and are also so sad to finish. Like a bitter battle that you, the reader, face the entire time, so badly wanting to know what happens next and not wanting the page to turn to the last sentence. Reading has been something that I came to love as a child in Germany. My memories, being what they were as a five-year old, hold onto a slower life where there was always time to sit still and read. And that is precisely something I in my crazy life have clung to, and in seasons lost. That feeling of being able to put all the "important" things in life on hold and selfishly read for no one but myself. I can remember distinct times when the clock and time would start to run on a parallel sliding scale of measure. It was particularly strong in the beginning of high school when I stumbled onto so many of the classics that I still love today, and I began that passionate affair with 19th century British authors, caught in their tales of love, heart-ache, inspiration, and woe. I worked through Jane Austen's stories wanting to wear a petticoat and wait months for one brief letter from Darcy, and then realized in my impatient manner that would stink. Plain and simple. I hit works like Thomas Hardy and cried at major losses of youth, innocence, and love, and only now can wonder if he was a happy man or if the weight of his work transpired into his personal life. But enough revelations of my secret, inner-nerd. I love to read, and today I realized just how much I missed it in the push and pull of college life and the rat race to have it all, be it all, and do it all in four years.

The long weekend I am happy to report was a rousing success for the Kennedys in terms of exploration and relaxation. I met up with Dereck on Friday for an impromptu lunch and decided I would go to Starbucks on post that afternoon as a treat for it being Friday (and for lack of a better reason!). So, I went there and read the book I finished today, and met Dereck. It was a beautiful moment of reading our respective books and simply enjoying each other's company. And then it came to me: this is what it's like to be around the person you love enough to spend small moments with. And I liked it! We spent so long waiting for rushed weekend visits where every minute was crammed-packed in compensation for the time that would be spent separate. The small moments have been some of the most enjoyable in the marriage, and I don't think enough people tell you that. Forget the wedding and all the planning, this is a million times better than living for the big events.

Saturday morning we had a wonderfully lazy start to the day, complete with a pancake breakfast, and then climbed into the car for St. Louis. I was excited about this trip because we were headed for Fleet Feet, my favorite running shoe store in the world. To some people this may seem like a mundane task, something to check off the errand list, but to me going to a running store is an event to look forward to. I walk into the store and all the shoes are there on the shelves, calling me to try them on, and the expensive running clothes promise to make me look faster. Price tags reveal numbers small in comparison to what the running gear promises: adventure, fun, and a chance to slow down the day. Forget the fact that I am on the injury list and can gimp out a mile at my best right now, the running store is like heaven. I did seriously need shoes with better support, and Dereck's looked they they went through WWIII, and that says a lot coming from a runner. After getting fitted for new gear and me leaving with Brooks (gasp!) and Dereck with Asics, we went through a baby store so I could grab something for a friend that is due soon. The look of shock on Dereck's face was priceless. It took a grand total of ten minutes in the store, around all the bellies and babies for us to look at each other and agree that is a loooonnnnnngggg time from now before we are ready. Dereck also commented that the swaddling wraps looked like baby straight-jackets, and I think that says it all about our thoughts on childbearing for the time being.

Next in my oh-so exciting chronological expose would be Sunday. We again went to a small local Baptist church, then ate lunch, and later hit the gym. Army people are obsessed with fitness, and while I realize that their jobs require them to be that way, I have the feeling that most of them there were there of their own volition. So I spent my time riding my bike and again watching MTV. I am embarrassed to admit this on my blog, but darn it, they make some interesting documentaries and shows, and they are just mindless enough to be followed while I bike, drink water, fiddle with my headphone wire, watch people in the mirrors like a creeper, and plot out my domination of the world. Never knew someone could do so much on a bike did you? I must have been extra persuasive on Sunday, because I managed to convince Dereck we need to watch Army Wives, which I found at the library thanks to Ft. Leonard Wood. So watch we did, and to my great delight, several episodes. My whole thought-train on that show should really be saved for another day. Suffice it to say that I really enjoy watching the drama and want the world to know it. I seem to have a secret-revealing trend writing this today, I must be feeling bold and spicy like a Wendy's chicken sandwich, the hot one, not the plain and boring one.

To cap off the great weekend, Dereck and I explored the world-famous and acclaimed Branson. People in Missouri like billboards and they like filling them with flashy names done in sequins and catchy slogans that stretch over five in succession. The whole drive down I found myself being pulled into the tourist-glaze where every billboard seemed to promise something bigger and better than the last one, and by the time we got near Branson, I found myself ready to see the butterfly house, some weird Russian guy and anything in between. Perhaps I missed my life-calling and should have been a billboard designer- there were some serious stinkers out there that could use a redo. Having been to Gatlinburg, Tennessee a few times, I had my comparisons in mind and ready to go. Branson is very similar and very different. Branson has a much bigger focus on variety shows and musical entertainment theaters, and a downtown that isn't layed out on a strip along the major highway like in Gatlinburg. And personally, I found Gatlinburg to be much more pretty, but to also be fair, I haven't seen the full extent of Branson. We did pass one place with a Taj Mahal feel and purple and gold towers, and much to my glee it was a variety show with tigers. Sadly they were not open on Mondays. Also, the golden towers of tigers was next to a church that also claimed to be an event center. Ponder the irony of that with me for a moment: the house of God was also willing to host your next Bar Mitzvah or Bachelor Party, or any event for that matter. The desire for profit on the part of the glitzy church made me feel pretty sad. They must be watching TBN and that pink hair lady too much.

To round out the adventure of Monday we went to a Lambert's Cafe, the place where they throw you dinner rolls! I had heard of Lambert's before from friends that went to the one in Foley, AL, and when I saw the signs, I knew we had to go. Apparently the Lambert brothers started in Missouri and then one of them went rogue and moved to Alabama. Being a marketing person, I really have to give them props on their "atomospherics," or the mood of the restaurant. Here they had people paying $12for a meatloaf dinner, and the customers were loving it! From the bright lighting to the funny decorations, balloons, and waiters walking around with huge tubs of veggies like fried okra, the whole place felt alive. Dereck immediately fell in love with the fried okra and I am proud to say that I tried it and reconfirmed my dislike of 99% of all veggies, fried or not. The guys tossing rolls also made things much more fun since I never knew when one might go whizzing over my head. The portions however are out-of-this-world huge. After my monster roll, and nibbles off my meatloaf, potatoes, corn, applesauce, and samples from the tubs, I felt ready to pop. This has to be a place that people only go every so often. All in all though, we had a great dinner and shared laughs over tons of small, inconsequential things, and I firmly believe that our brains needed it. From all the stress of moving paperwork, coordination, housing info, and transportation issues coming up, we needed that time to unwind and giggle about how much fried okra Dereck could possibly consume.

To round off this blog post, we have come to the conclusion that I am going to follow Dereck out to Washington State on a three day driving bonanza. We have been trying to avoid this since I thought I needed to go home and help with the packing and PCS on that side, and adding 18 hours of driving to Alabama and back to Missouri on top of the drive out West was a bridge too far. So we looked into the options of shipping my car from Alabama and me flying out to some point on the journey to meet up with Dereck, or even flying all the way to Seattle. Every way that we tried to arrange it came up with issues and big costs. Moving is expensive no matter how you slice it or how much the Army "reimburses." I knew we came to the decision of driving when my parents offered to PCS all of our junk without me coming home. I am so blessed to have parents who played that game for 20 plus years and know all the tricks to use with movers from buying their lunches and giving them drinks throughout the day, to stashing items so that they don't get "lost" like 20% will on every move (aka stolen for the black market or personal pockets). I am currently trying to psych myself up that I can make the drive alone in my car for three days straight following Dereck. And to that end I put out a plea- if you have ever loved me in our short lives, please call and entertain me on that journey. You can only look at so many cornstalks in Kansas before the insanity starts to creep in (or should I say barren crop fields of February). We leave on the morning of Feb 2- mark it down and start praying!