Car Troubles?

Rain has a very strong, earthy scent to me. Sometimes it smells like how a headache feels. And for reasons unknown to me, it always draws me back to my first car, a Jeep Cherokee, which was the love of my life, even though it had about 6,000 problems with it. 

That car is what my mother would call a "hoopdie" which is slang for a car that is basically just a hunk of junk on wheels. But it was mine and I loved it dearly. I didn't do many favors for it either. Between scratching it on a fence, having the radiator bust, and having the brakes completely break, I wasn't exactly the most gentle caregiver. But it did the job and got me to and from school. And I miss driving it around town. It was no pride of mine, but simply my second home. I kept second pairs of shoes and various other clothing options just in case I was situation that called for a quick change of clothing, you know, like a superhero. 

I loved driving it. But I did not like driving other people around in it. It made a lot of noises that I was able to tune out but often scared my passengers. They'd be like, "is your car supposed to make that sound?" And I'd have to reassure them that even though it sounded like animals were clawing their way through the inside of my car, it was just the engine doing it's thang. Nothing to worry about. 

I miss my car now that I'm stuck here without one. When I was sad or needed to think, I would often jump in my car and go for drives. Maybe I'd even cry in the car. It was just nice to have alone time, and I loved being able to dictate where I was going to go. Here, I can't go more than a few miles on foot. And forget about public transportation. I don't just want to be moving, I want to be doing the moving. You know, if that makes sense to you. 

Another thing I didn't realize I would miss until I couldn't do it anymore is singing in the car. I really miss belting out hardcore in the car. I sounded good. At least I thought I did. Jamming out to 98.7 or 100.3 Jack FM (playing what YOU want), oh those were the good days. Now anytime I want to sing, I have to make sure my roommate is gone. I also make sure my door is shut and locked, and I still don't even sing that loud. Sorry about it, but I'm super embarrassed by my singing. 

I don't miss traffic, and I don't miss commuting across town to try and hop from my mom's house to my dad's house. I don't miss stressful drives in the morning or long drives at night when all I want more than anything is to be home and NOT IN THE CAR.

But there's a reason why parents put their babies in the car to try and lull them to sleep. There's a reason it works. Being in the car is peaceful man, and right now, I'm counting down the days until I'm back in my hoopdie, praying that it would break down, and rocking out to oldies on the radio. 

Big Bend National Park (I'm tired I can't think of anything good)

"Guys give me something to write about. What do I miss about Texas?"
"The grass!"
"The dirt!"

For this post I was honestly thinking about going down the easy Buzzfeed-esque route I like so much.
"Huh, maybe today I will make a list where I rank all my family members in order of how much I like them. But that also makes no sense."
Nah, I'll spare you that awful blog post that might make an appearance in the future if I absolutely run out of things from Texas I miss.
Let's get down to nature.
I don't know if you guys know this place, but it's called Big Bend National Park. Yes, I too thought this was the clock in England the first time I heard it. But alas, it is not the big clock from England.

Thanks

So Big Bend National Park is this super large, protected area of land that covers about 801,163 acres in South Texas. Like South-west Texas (think Rio Grande and Mexico!!) Anyway it's super beautiful and it's also super fun to go camping there.

Santa Elena Canyon

I've been camping here about four times. I came the first time with my dad and a bunch of his friends when I was about ten years old. It was super boring because I was the only kid there and I was too young to appreciate the raw beauty of it. Plus we only stayed like three days.

That is a picture of me and my dad chilling in some sleeping bags because it gets super freaking cold in November, which is also the month we go camping in. So anyway, the first time was sort of lame and I was like, I guess it's okay because I can climb rocks but all this sitting around the fire by myself stuff is kind of butt.

We went again a year later. This time my dad's best friend since elementary school came with us. He brought his daughter, Ashley, with him. Ashely was usually my friend out of proximity. She was a year and a half older than me but we still got along and talked. We also brought my cousin, Jamey, with us. Jamey was four years older and also a boy. So naturally Ashley had a crush on him almost instantaneously. And he of course was naturally uninterested and also a little embarrassed. My job was to relay messages between them.

There we are again. I have almost the same haircut. It is slightly better. But only slightly. Whatever, this trip proved way more fun, also I was older, so therefore more wiser and able to enjoy the hiking and nature stuff. Plus this was the year I learned the art of rock stacking. Which is just where you get a bunch of little rocks and try and balance them on top of each other. It's crazy fun and looks super cool. Like a message an alien would send.

Not as cool as I remember it looking

We went again two years later. 

By then I was a teenager. This type of camping was fun, but I wanted more independence and time on my own. I started hiking the trails by myself more. The easy stuff, nothing too dangerous or too long. I just wanted time to think and to take in the landscape. It's not a lot of color, and everything looks dry. But I always liked how untouched by man it was. 

We went one last time a few years ago. My junior year. I remember that time because my dad had brought my step-mom with us. We also brought my other cousin, Jayla, with us. She's a year younger than me but we're super close. William came along too, but he brought his wife and Ashley and her boyfriend. 

There was a lot of tension that trip. I think I remember something along the lines of William smoking pot with his wife and Ashley and her boyfriend, and I don't think my step-mom approved. I honestly don't know the full story. All I know is that trip was my absolute favorite one. Even though I was way older and I had missed most of my Thanksgiving break to come do this camping trip, I didn't really mind it. Even though there was weird tension and we brought way too much stuff with us, I'm glad I went. 

My dad and I had been not as close as of late and I felt that coming on this trip was a really nice way to connect with him. We hiked together and we talked, not argued, which at that point, we had been doing a lot of. It was really nice to have my cousin there also, because she's great and also because I almost fell off a giant rock and she caught me before I felt to a certain broken-arm future

Last Picture

So I guess this week, considering how groovy the weather has been, I'm just missing the vibes of hiking. Of eating chili that tastes like heaven because it's super duper cold and you haven't eaten since that bologna sandwich. And I especially miss all the funny stories that I come home with. Because something funny always happens. 

I'm not sure when I'll get to go hiking here again. I'm sure soon since I don't like to go too many years between Big Bend visits. Camping is good for the soul. Especially Texan camping.

Here's the thing, this week I'm not really missing Texas. The weather has been nice, we only have like sevenish weeks left of school, and I'm able to go running again. So like, I'm pretty good here. Yeah sure, I haven't seen my parents since January and I sort of miss them, and yeah, I can't wait to see my old school friends at the end of May. But for the moment, Penn State is keeping me occupied. So this week, instead of focusing on what I miss about Texas, I've decided to write about what I don't miss about Texas. Haha Plot twist.

Texas isn't perfect, it's far from perfect. I spent the better part of my life wishing for the day I could leave Texas and never go back. So here's a list of things that I don't miss about Texas

1. Traffic.

Wow if you feel me raise your hand. In highschool, every morning of my senior year, I spent an hour in the morning driving to school, and an hour in the afternoon driving back from it.  I remember my head falling to the side, eyes closing, as I drowned in the background noise of sports radio. And I'm a pretty optimistic person, I try and look at things with a good attitude. So I would try and lie to myself. I would say, oh I like traffic, it gives me time to think. Time to be alone and listen to music. But that's a lie. I don't like traffic. Nobody likes traffic. It sucks. And Dallas always has traffic. And I'm the kind of person that never leaves enough time to get somewhere if traffic is bad. So if I hit it and I'm supposed to be at work in fifteen minutes, the entire time I'm just one ball of stress trying to get there one time.
Oh Traffic, how I loathe thee.

2. Cowboy Boots
We don't all ride horses. I've said it before and I'll say it again. I think the last time I rode a horse was when I turned eight and got it into my head that a horse-back riding birthday party was what I wanted. It was cool but honestly not even the best part of my birthday that year.

So we don't horseback ride. And yet, cowboy boots are a staple in every girl and boy's closet. How many themed-events did I go to that needed cowboy boots? Too many too count. And did I ever invest in a pair of really uncomfortable, really not my style footwear? No because I'm not a poser and I hate cowboy boots. I don't like the way I look in them and I don't like how everyone has a pair. It's just so Texan. It makes me want to heave.

3. Not getting to pick the music in the car
This is such a weird and specific thing but it's absolutely true. I never get to pick music if I'm riding in anyone else's car. Sometimes I don't even get to choose in my car. My friends and family basically strong-arm control of the radio dials and very rarely do I get to choose what tunes I want to play. While I do admit being in charge of the background music holds an important job, I think I'd be up for the task if given the opportunity.

Ha ha, 90 points if you can guess what that botched attempt at a reference is from. Yesterday, I saw a rainbow lighting up the sky and I thought, wow, it's gonna be spring!!!
Eh, sort of, because then today it was snowing dandruff. 
Well, at least it's gonna be March!

I know I already talked about weather for one of my posts, so this is not going to be a post about Texas weather, but specifically about how much I miss spring time in Texas right now, as I wait patiently for Pennsylvania to reward me for putting up with its winter season. It's the whole seasonal vibe. 

The only spring I can remember hating was in the 7th grade when I got put on academic probation by my headmistress and I wasn't allowed to play softball. You may ask yourself, how does a twelve year old get put on academic probation? You know because middle school matters so much in the long run. Probably had something to do with my To Kill a Mockingbird Project, which was just a poster-board that I drew lots of mockingbirds on. I didn't really understand the assignment. 

But every spring since then, I have absolutely loved. I mentioned that I played softball four sentences ago. Ah yes, softball=spring. It's one of the few sports I've ever excelled at. I've been playing it for years, since I was about nine. And you know how some families have a certain sport that they gravitate around? My family gravitates around softball. Everyone in my family plays. Even my step-brother. 

I remember in the 8th grade, I was the short-stop. Oh those days. I remember this time I caught the ball with my backhand and the crowd was cheering. I remember playing it up a little bit, because I did not think I was going to get the ball. Divine intervention. The sun was in my eyes, I couldn't see a GD thing. I just stuck my glove out, and I miraculously caught it. Of course I didn't tell anyone that. My dad asked me, "Did you mean to do that?" And I go, "Duh, I'm the shortstop, it's kind of my job."

Another spring that sticks out in my mind? Tenth grade. My friend got her license at the very beginning of March. I discovered a lot of my favorite bands in her car that year. I remember the time she kidnapped me from my house and told me we were going to the movies. We did not go to the movies. She took me to the neighborhood of this boy she liked and we stalked his house for two hours. She cried most of the two hours because he didn't like her and thought she was weird, and I said it was probably because she did stuff like this. We were listening to this album, Crazy for You, by Best Coast, for the the first time. A band that is forever my favorite now, and I always smile a little when I listen to them because I remember comforting my friend and making her laugh even though she was so sad about this dumb boy who is still dumb to this day.

Last spring was pretty phenomenal too. Did I have a blast at prom even though I hated my dress and forgot to bring a bra to the afterparty so I was stuck wearing a friend of mine's 'sticky-boobs'? Heck yeah. Will my reign as captain of the softball team go down in history (*similar to the Queen of England, I was simply a figurehead, but whatever)? You bet your lunch money it will. Did I get into college? I DON'T KNOW, DID I?
I mean, you guys all graduated from high-school too, right? Best moment of my life. Walking across the stage, hearing cheers and the satisfyingly loud bellows from blow-horns that aren't and never will be allowed at these ceremonies (who follows that rule? nerds?) from some friends of mine. Taking pictures with everyone you've ever been sort of friends with. I even got a picture with my high-school crush. Thems the small victories.

And then going to our graduation party later that night. I had work the following morning, but I didn't want to sleep that night. My friend and I went straight from our graduation party to a friend's house and then after that, we just walked around his neighborhood with blankets on our shoulders, laughing and crying. Well she was crying, as per usual. She cries a lot. At about six in the morning we decided to take a quick nap in her car. I was so exhausted at work later that day, but it was worth it.

The funny thing is that I won't spend another spring in Texas for about four years. Maybe even longer, depending on what I decide to do after graduation. I'm still trying to decide if working on a cruise ship will be as fun as it sounds. Hey maybe later in life, instead of missing spring time in Texas, I'll miss springtime in Pennsylvania. Who knows? I don't!

mosquitos

It's nine thirty. And you're in your dad's truck, your head resting lightly on the window. It's summer, so he's got the air conditioner on full blast, and you're wondering how much longer till you're there. 

Back then an hour drive was a lifetime and you didn't really appreciate the countryside or understand what nostalgia was.

So you're wondering and then you pull into a little driveway and there's a gate, and you smile because you know that your dad's going to get out of the truck and pull that gate open and then you'll drive on a dirt road for a minute and then you'll see it there, behind the sticky trees. Just waiting. It's blue and white, and compact. Doesn't seem like that much house. But your grandfather put his work and sweat and hard-earned money into this cabin. Felix's Cabin.

So you love it with all your heart because everything about childhood bliss happened here. Before you were old enough to miss it.

It's this cabin out West of Dallas. It's one of my favorite places in the world. When I was a kid, we'd go there a lot in the summer. I remember spending days at the nearby lake, getting stickers caught in my foot and eating fried chicken on a beach towel. I remember my aunt and uncle and grandparents getting drunker and drunker, my cousins and I sitting on the floor of the living room, laughing at our parents making fools of themselves.

It was a safe place, protected by cactus and rattlesnakes that hid under sheds and beneath old boats. As we got older, our dynamics changed. My cousin started bringing some of his friends along, and we wanted to sit on the front porch, talking about other things while our parents sat on the back porch, cursing or yelling or maybe even crying. I had a crush on my cousin's friend Julio, and I remember he came along with us to the cabin for my thirteenth birthday. And I always thought that was one my favorite birthdays because Julio had teased and talked to me. I felt sixteen.

More years go by. I am sixteen now. I'll start senior year in the fall. And we haven't stayed in the cabin for a long time. For a while, Nellie, my grandfather's sister, was living there. And then after that, the pipes needed to be fixed. And after that, the porch needed to be repaired.

So I don't get to come out as often. And I keep thinking that I'll get a chance to create vivid memories here. But more often than not, the cabin is just a story I keep telling everyone about, not one I get to live.

But dad says that he needs help with the mowing. It's a good size piece of land. I go out there with him in May. I'm going through old photo albums, and I'm so young in most of them. There are fewer and fewer of us past the age of ten. And it makes me so sad to think about all these photos just sitting here with dust and cobwebs their only company. Swiss Family Robinson is still in the DVD player. I guess we forgot to put it away the last time we were here.

I ask my dad how long until we can all come out here again. He says soon. He always says soon. Soon is just a way of getting me off his ass.

More years.

A few days ago my dad called me and told me that my grandparents had finally got around to trying to sell the cabin. He says it like I won't start tearing up. Like I won't start protesting, asking if there's anything that can be done to keep that from happening. I, like most people, have forged more emotional connections to houses than other people.

"We all gotta keep moving on. You'll leave a lot of houses in your life Victoria, you can't cry about every single one."

What do I miss about Texas this week? I miss that country air and the smell of river water. The smell of moss and of dirt in all your shoes and between your toes. I miss birthday parties and Fourth of July celebrations.

I left a lot of houses, just like my dad said. I've lived in seven different homes, said a lot of goodbyes. I just never thought I would have to say goodbye to this home.

why i miss working

The words that I am about to write are going to shock you and me both. I actually miss working. I miss my old job.
I was a lifeguard, and it was one of the sweetest gigs I ever had, and I never expected it to be that way. And I'm hesitant to work as a lifeguard here just because I assume that every other lifeguarding program cares WAAYYY more than the City of Grand Prairie did. I'm not saying that we were bad life-guards or that our pools were unsafe to swim in, but I am saying that the amount of people that were hired and fired just last summer would astound you.

I mostly just miss the fact that I could work 14 hour days or 3 hour days. I miss getting up at 7:15 in the morning and going into a mostly empty natatorium, where I worked with three other guards. Where I could be found reading a book or humming a tune on the guard stand while the regulars did breast-stroke for an hour. If you want to know what peace sounds like, it's that quiet ripple water makes when it's being disturbed, but not too much.

Open swim was another story. I miss it too. The City of Grand Prairie is responsible for four pools. Bowles is the good pool. It's relatively free of crime and neighborhood drama. Kirby is the natatorium, and by far the most clean and the nicest. It's also the most work. McFalls is my favorite to work at, because anything could happen!! I'm not joking! The last pool, Tyre, scares me just a little bit. I've worked there once.

Anyway Open Swim is the time when the pool is open exclusively for the public. No swim lessons or water areobics. And there is always something that I see or witness that makes for a good and interesting story. That's why I like McFalls. Every time I work there, I know. I just know.

There's this gang of kids that we dubbed "pool rats." They're good kids mostly. They come early and we let them help us clean, free of charge of course. And then we open the pool and they get to swim for free (off the books). They all have nicknames, ala the Sandlot. Taco, Critter, Michael, La-lo. One time I was working at McFalls, which is not my home pool, and as I was walking up to the stand, I heard a large explosion, like a firework explosion (don't freak out lol) and I thought, it's the middle of June. Why are we popping firecrackers off now? And further more, WHY ARE WE POPPING FIRECRACKERS OFF NOW? THAT SCARED ME.

And as that happened, my fellow lifeguard, Tatiana, poked her head out of the gaurd office, and she goes "Was that Critter?" She had this smile on her face, like it was just this hilarious, cute little thing that Critter did. I'm like, does Critter do this often? And she's like laughing and nods her head. I'd tell her that's abnormal, but I don't think she'd understand.

I don't have a job here. And I'm starting to go a a little crazy because I'm not exactly busy all the time here.

one time, it was sort of hot.

Let's talk about Texas.

Today was a day for nostalgia. I often fall back onto summer memories of warmth dissolving into my clothes and draping softly on my legs on days like today.

And I have to say that when I check Dallas weather on my weather app and see that it's 75 degrees in February, and we're getting maybe to 40, you know, on the average day, I can't help but feel a little bitter.
So that's been fun for me.

 Do you wanna know an interesting factoid about Dallas? It has the #1 Riskiest Weather. I just learned that today. So if you can't handle a little danger in your life, don't move to Dallas. I'm kidding. Don't move to Dallas for other reasons.

Name a disaster. Earthquakes, Tornados, Hurricanes, Severe Flooding, Droughts. Come on down to Texas, we'll git ya fixed up.  And my god, I'm not over-exaggerating about how brutal the summers are. I'm not just being a giant grouch.  There's a great Texan game: is today going to be picture perfect, like a crisp, spring afternoon, or is today the day we all see if our sidewalks are hot enough to fry eggs on (spoiler alert, it was once I think).

The heat lasts till October and November. I used to "run" cross country.
And for some reason, these dipwads that were in charge of our cross-country meets decided to schedule our races at 4 pm in the afternoon.

Fellas, this isn't your grandmother's September afternoon. In Texas, the saying goes that September is the "less hot version of August" which tons of younger siblings everywhere can relate to. But it's still like 85 degrees and HUMID on a typical afternoon in September. So yeah, then they made a bunch of, granted, very stupid middle schoolers run up and down a terrible and evil hill for two miles and then were kind of surprised when most of us peed on ourselves or passed out. Honestly, we were all terrified that each race, we'd be "that" person, you know, the one who fainted about a mile in from dehydration and heat exhaustion.

But anyway, on days like today, I just crave a little sunlight. And I think my favorite warm days I like to think back on are the ones where I'm lifeguarding and there's nobody in the pool, and I can close my eyes behind my favorite heart-shaped sunglasses, and irresponsibly forget where I am. My skin is absolutely radiating in that point, like I can actually feel that sweet sweet Vitamin D.

I think about that one day when I was six and my cousin and I were racing on a boardwalk at the beach and she was so much faster than me, and she ran into a pole and busted her lip open. I saw her first because our parents were lagging behind, and I start freaking out. My face is all flushed in the picture my Aunt Ida has. I have a little bit of sand in my hair. That was in July I think.

I think I might love falls in Pennsylvania more. You guys don't realize how much color nature is letting you see.  Ya'll are lucky you have so many trees and such green grass that is all healthy and soft. It's just perfect Easter Egg hunting grass.


But I guess when it's warm, I just feel better. I associate warmth with the end of school. The beginning of freedom. My best stories are 9/10 times from the summer.

And soon, I will be home. And I'm going to freaking hate it. I'll be the first one complaining to my mom and dad, telling them how much I miss being a temporary Northerner. How much I miss the cool weather. You know what they say though, the grass is always greener.

But I actually do think the grass here is greener.