The cop took a U-turn at the light, following me in my lane.
“There is a police car behind me,” I explained to my sister on the phone. I put my blinker on and turned. “Oh no, they turned too.”
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Engrossed in a good movie, I didn’t want to leave. I cursed myself for chugging the large coke, waited until a spot in the movie that I could tolerate missing and sprinted to the bathroom. A line greeted me. I smiled at the people in front of me and tried to be patient. I was pretty desperate and didn’t want to miss any more of the film. What was taking so long? I didn’t want to appear pushy. So I waited just a little more.
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Outside of Austin, about an hour away in Smithville, on a lonely, remote road that leads to an even more lonely and remote plot of land, there is a magical place called Scream Hollow Wicked Halloween Park. Like the fairy land of Celtic lore that reveals itself at twilight, Scream Hollow is only open to visitors during the most magical month of all. October.
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Oh Patience. You are not just a word that belongs with musty hymnals and hard candies. You are fighting to stay relevant. Trying on hi-low dresses. Signing up for Twitter. You show me your Amazon Prime account…
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I am going to tell you something that I haven’t told very many people…
I recently had one of those trusted conversations. The “not many people know this” dialogue is precious. I realized, after we got off the phone, the moment of hearing my dear friend say “I want to tell you something…” prompted so many emotions. I was simultaneously excited, nervous, hopeful and full of love for my friend. In that millisecond I worried, “Oh no, I hope I react the right way.”
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My heart pounded.Sweat puddled on my arms. My legs were Jell-O. No, I wasn’t in a horror movie. Close. Spinning class.
I’ll level with you…
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On a Christmas break, I visited my college boyfriend and his family in Oregon. He made sure I experienced ALL that his state had to offer. At a Duck’s basketball game, they had a special halftime competition that still makes me smile!
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“Hey, I am going to steal your wallet now. See. I have my hands on it. Watch me take it.” —Said no robber ever.
It’s almost funny to think about, because it doesn’t happen. I thought about an announced robbery when I read these words, “Comparison is truly the thief of joy.” A student included them in a letter through Letters About Literature, a program where students write to authors about how their books made a personal impact.
With those words, I remembered our house being robbed...
In Galveston, I had a quirky tour guide with flowing blonde hair and sunglasses at night. He was off topic more than he was on and I didn’t mind. I was along for the ride, listening to his stories until the last stop. “Valentines Day: every woman’s favorite holiday. Am I right, men?” He elaborated on how women like to feel loved “yadda yadda yadda.” I don’t remember; I’d stopped listening. His glance returned to me, expecting more smiles and nodding. I shot him a stone face. He corrected, “Well maybe not all women.”
I wanted to jump in and explain that Valentine’s IS one of my favorite holidays, but not for the reasons you assume, Sir! I wanted to tell him the story about my dad and the balloons!
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