I haven’t written in quite some time. Every day I periodically log things away in my head as I think of them or as they happen to me—“Oh, I need to remember to write about this later…” Unfortunately, by the time I get home from work or wherever I’ve been that day, I’m more concerned with plopping into my bed and I’m often asleep before my head hits the pillow. So I apologize for my absence. My sister scolded me today for not updating my blog recently enough, so here I am, for those of you who are actually reading my lil’ stream of consciousness here.
Yesterday deserves to be written about. It started out as a fairly boring, run o’ the mill, long day at work. I worked in the box office until 8pm. And at the ripe old age of 22, I still don’t have a car, so I get dropped off and picked up from work most days. However, on this day, the family forgot about me. Eight o’clock rolled around and I called my mom’s cell phone to see where she was and make sure she was en route.
The phone rang and I was greeted with, “Oh crap, we totally forgot!” Roughly eighteen minutes later, my sister rolled up to the curb in our family’s maroon Buick and took me home.
I had late, laid-back dinner of leftovers with my family. We hadn’t eaten together in a long time and it was nice. There was a lot of laughing—hearty, belly laughter that makes your milk come out your nose. I don’t remember what we laughed about, just that it was funny.
After dinner and dishes with the family, I headed back to Plano to see my friend Nicole. It was her birthday and we’d planned to hang out after she had a birthday dinner out with her own family. We didn’t have any real plans; we just knew we wanted to spend some time together. Some other friends from work wanted us to join up with them for the evening, but we ended up just keeping to ourselves.
We sprawled on her huge, pink bed, talking for a while. I felt like I was at a sleepover. I’d been craving a Sonic chocolate milkshake all day, and I asked Nicole if she was interested.
“Well, sure!” she all but shouted and sat up and leapt off her bed in one smooth motion. (Last summer, we got to know the Sonic down the road a little too well, as we’d go there after work when we’d both close together.) We both ordered our favorite drinks; I slurped my chocolate milkshake and Nicole her Diet Coke with vanilla. I rolled the windows down, we leaned our seats back and propped our feet on the dashboard. I finished my drink and suggested we just drive around for a bit. I felt like seeing somewhere new.
So we drove and drove and drove until we were out of Plano and finally out of the familiar. Soon the roads were dark and dusty and we found ourselves in remote towns I’d only heard of. For a Texas night in late July, it was actually quite pleasant outside and there was a bit of a wispy breeze every now and then, so we kept the windows down. We talked a lot as we drove, but there were times where we were just silent too, and there was nothing but the sound of the car and the faint background music of my Amber Rubarth cd in the stereo. Even the sky helped make it a perfect night. The moon wasn’t completely full, but it was so bright and surrounded by fluffy, moving clouds. That sky made me wish I was a painter.
We found ourselves in Prosper and finally, Celina, Texas. Nicole spotted a thin, brown sign for the “Old Celina Cemetery.” She got really excited and insisted we at least find it and drive around. So we did just that; my huge Buick rocked from side to side a little as we slowly rolled up the gravel road and found the wrought iron fence and gate surrounding the headstones from generations of Celina citizens. As soon as we found the place, Nicole was petrified that we were going to happen upon some backwoods, cult gathering or ritual. I am here to say that the short drive through the Celina cemetery was quite uneventful.
When we finished our tour of the cemetery, we decided to turn around and head back the way we came and back to Nicole’s house.
All in all, it was a night that made me wish I knew how to paint and made me want to write. So… better late than never….
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