personal

My how time flies…

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One year ago I fell in love. It wasn’t a conventional love but it was hard and true. March 6th was the one year anniversary of seeing and choosing Large Marge.

I remember it as if it was yesterday. The first time I climbed up into her cab. That new vehicle smell of the VOCs tingling my nose. It really was love at first sight. She and I have traversed this country (and Canada too) numerous times and she’s never let me down.

After a small break in Chicago (more on that in a bit) we are sitting in the shop having our yearly inspection done and its a good thing we are. I’m pretty good at checking my truck while I’m on the road, it’s part of my job after all. Even then, sometimes you can’t catch everything. Today this little gem was caught.

This is wear on my steer tire in the front of my truck. That’s a nice bald spot and it’s not usual wear by any means. It seems as if the belt inside has broken apart and that is what’s caused the wear. This is kinda a big deal. Steer tire failures can be fatal especially if you’re traveling at full speed. I’m hoping my Road Assist people will be able to argue defect but it’s up to the field rep for the manufacturer to agree and they rarely do.

Large Marge passed the rest of her inspection with just a few minor things needed like new reflective tape. I want to celebrate by getting her a bath because the girl sorely needs it but I’ve got more winter weather to drive in so it’s almost a waste of money.

This last weekend I took some time off to head home to Chicago to celebrate the 50th birthday of one of my favorite people in the world; My good fried Keith.

He’s not short, I’m just wearing 4″ heels. Something I haven’t done for ages. Also, sometimes I just don’t know where to look in selfies.

Living full time in a truck doesn’t afford many opportunities to get dressed up so when I get a chance I tend to go all out.

Besides seeing some of my favorite people, I got to see one of my favorite local bands Dec8de.

These guys put on a great show and they also played all of my favorite 80’s songs. If you’re in the Chicagoland area and they are playing, do yourself a favor and go see them. Tell them I sent you.

I sang, I danced, I sweat my ass off, I drank all the gin (or tried) and I reveled in being out of my truck and around some of my favorite people. Earlier in the day I had someone who tried to bring me down and argue nonsense, but screw that noise, this night was Keith’s. I was there to have all the fun and I did it all in heels. RAWR!

As the night wore on, I started to feel a bit tired and that’s when the boys in the band gave me the wake up I needed. They played In A Big Country by Big Country, which has kinda become my personal anthem of late. There was no sitting for this song so back on the dance floor I went.

I also got to spend time with one of my oldest and dearest friends, Stef. She and I go all the way back to my freshman year in high school and oh the stories I could tell (but won’t).

She is the jelly to my peanut butter (because she’s sweet and I’m nutty) and one of the people I easily love unconditionally. She understands me and accepts me for exactly who I am and for that she has my undying loyalty.

I also got to spend the weekend with my son and Frobebe.

Tbis kid is an amazing person and I’m lucky to have him in my life.

This weekend was exactly what I needed. The last couple of weeks saw me letting someone treat me poorly and I needed a kick in the ass and a reminder of who I am. I needed my family around me and to have their love and belief in me. It helped to reinforce the fact that I am a very loved person and that I have people in my life who no matter how long between seeing one another we go, we always end up in a loving embrace like no time has ever passed and pick up where we left off. Of course social media helps as well as the occasional phone call, but there is nothing like being able to hug someone you love and tell them how much they mean to you.

This. This is why I do what I do.

Before being a driver, it had been over 10 years since I had seen my t-town girls. Now I see them a couple of times a year. The same goes with friends I have all over the country. This living allows me the time and ability to see all the people who mean so much to me. (Washington peeps, I’ll see you later this year.)

Until next time my lovelies.

Lingering death of the fireflies…

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When I was a child growing up in Chicago, one of the greatest things about the summer (besides no school, shorts, bike riding, cook outs, and swimming at the lake) was catching fireflies. The magic of hunting and searching for them as they slowly floated around is something I think about whenever I see fireflies to this day.

Childhood was a simple time because the world was nothing but possibility and everything had a touch of magic to it. Catching those floating lights always felt, to me, like I was capturing a bit of magic with every one I snatched and carefully stored in my cleaned out Peter Pan peanut butter jar.

The boys I knew took a different view of the lights. They reveled in smashing them on the sidewalk and smearing them to see the trail of light that was left on the pavement. They didn’t seem to be content to let them live and exist; to stare at them in wonder on their bedside table as sleep over took them as I do often did. No, they loved the instant gratification of death and the stark evidence of it shining up on them from the pavement.

I remember one particular boy who danced around me as I looked for fireflies one June evening. He was trying to find them first and kill them so I would go home empty handed. He laughed every time he found one before I did, and then with a look of glee he would toss it to the pavement to smash and smear it with his shoe. After the third or fourth one, I was filled with an overload of rage of indignation. My body shook and my small hands balled into fists until I couldn’t control myself; I launched at him and bloodied his nose. This, unfortunately, was not the first nor the last time that I took to fists to vent my anger.

Fast forward to now and driving through the back hills of Pennsylvania. The twists and turns sometime making me break until I was only crawling ahead and making me wonder if I was really supposed to be on this particular road. The hills and fields showed me such beautiful sights as well as hiding the setting sun behind hills and painting the sky in oranges and pinks. The beauty seemed unreal at times and my favorite site was when I saw a doe eating placidly while her fawn jumped and played next to the road (all the while I was yelling “Baby Deer” and hoping it didn’t get spooked and run in front of me). Pennsylvania has the highest incidence of Lyme Disease and usually when I saw deer it was every 1/2 to 3/4 mile laying dead at the side of the road, so for me to see this little ball of ish happily frolicking while his mother looked and ate on was a beautiful site.

As the sun snuggled in for the night I started noticing slight flashes of lights in the trees on the side of the road. Knowing that I was tired after nearly 9 hours of driving and a restless sleep the night before, I didn’t pay them much attention; I had a hard enough time just trying to navigate these twisting and turning roads. All of a sudden, right in front of my eyes, I hear the splat and see the bioluminescence shining from my windshield.

No, please no…

I know it’s silly to mourn the loss of anything as insignificant as an insect, but these aren’t just insects to me. These are moments, memories, and bits of magic wrapped in a small flying case. Yes, I know its just the way they mate but I don’t care. That wide eyed child inside of me was yelling and screaming that I was a big meanie. She was fighting that boy again but that boy was now me. I was losing my grasp on reality and it was over fireflies. However these weren’t fireflies to me, these were my memories that I was watching splatter on my windshield time and time again. That’s because where there is one firefly there are bound to be more.

Splat! Splat! Splat!

With each sound came an explosion of neon green on my windshield. I didn’t dare try to wash them off knowing that it usually just results in smears and more of a mess than it’s worth. As one splatter of color would fade, two more would take its place. My nerves frayed as I gripped the steering wheel tight while I willed the torment to end.

A few hours later, I finally got to my delivery point and stopped for the night. Shaking and crying I sat transfixed at my windshield. At this point the evidence of the crimes on my childhood had faded but the memories still lingered.

While I was not that boy from long ago who delighted in the destruction he waged on the fireflies of our neighborhood, I still felt that something broke inside of me with every death. I tried to honor the light which glowed on my windshield for as long as possible, but I also had to be safe and keep my eyes on the ever turning and twisting road.

I don’t know if it was those memories or if it was something else, but I’ve been in the worst funk. It took a few days to realize that part of it is that I’m not taking very good care of myself either physically or mentally. I would say this was my first wall. I had more than one moment of thinking “I can’t do this anymore” and more than a moment or two of darker thoughts.

I’ve pushed through those feelings and I’ve made a plan for myself to take more time off. The industry standard is you get one day off for every seven driving. Unfortunately, I haven’t been taking even that. That type of behavior ends now.

I’m currently in Springfield and set to take my business course. I know, isn’t that kind of backwards since I already have my business? Well, yes and no. This class is all about maximizing profits. They schedule this about three months after you’ve been on the road as a way of using your previous data and telling you how you could have optimized your trips. I already know what they will say which is “slow down and drive 55 mph”. My sanity isn’t worth the extra savings to be honest, so we’ll see how much I actually get out of it. I will go in with an open mind but I don’t know about this whole 55 mph thing. I personally tend to think that slow trucks are a danger on the road. When so many roads are 70mph and 80mph, coming up on a driver doing 55mph can be a shock.

One of the nicest things I’ve come across was finding a rainbow in my side mirror. I tried to catch a picture of it and you can kinda see it…

I had to up the color and contrast but if you look closely it’s there.

Until next time my lovelies. Peace, love, and Godzilla.