I'm in between houses now. Having just left my beloved Austin, I'm staying with the folks for a spell, until I can situate my next living space somewhere up north perhaps. I've had a really fantastic time being home. The town my parents raised me in is the cutest, safest, most quaint little city you've ever laid your eyes upon. So much peace and quiet, the exact opposite of life on tour.
Too much "peace", and "safe", and "quiet" isn't great for everyone though. I've noticed my dad catching my blank stares over my morning cheerios and my longing, droopy eyelids as I'm folding my laundry in the living room. I'm not really one to open up much about concerning issues I'm having with life, unless I'm talking to Nick. Poor Nick. He gets an earful every morning, evening, and afternoon. Fortunately, when we are apart, we communicate via text message, and my thumbs don't jabber on as much as my mouth.
The other morning, I found myself stepping outside of my comfort zone and sharing a few of my thoughts, aware that my dad sat near me at a bar stool at the kitchen counter and would most likely respond to my musings. I figured I'd just throw the old subconscious out there and see what happened. (Sometimes I'm quite the daring woman!)
"I just love it here. Staying with you guys has been great." I began. My dad looked up from the newspaper, concern spreading across his face. I could see the wheels turning in his head cautiously, deciding if this might be the morning that he should conveniently decide the kids needed to be dropped off at school, or the dog needed immediate attending to. He must have sensed a new tone in my voice. "I'm not quite sure what to do. The tour is over. I have a lot of free time. Still haven't found a place yet." Any father always treads on thin ice when their twenty-something adult child begins the "I need to find myself." convo.
"I'm just not sure what I'm doing right now..."
He probably had one of his fatherly concerned looks on his face, but I didn't take the moment to look over. I simply floated up to my jeweler's studio and continued on with the day.
I had all but forgotten about my strange admissions, but my father hadn't. He wasted no time in helping his daughter out of her quandaries.
The very next morning my parents took me to view a house down the street, a beautiful, charming, perfect little house. "Do you think there's even a one in a million chance you might want to live here?" squeaked my mother in excitement, looking up at me with her kind slanted eyes. "Well, yes, I mean, I can certainly do one in a million" I admitted, as I ran my fingers across the shiny marble countertops and along the mahogany sage green cupboards that still smelled of fresh paint.
Homeownership. Exhilarating. Exhilarating and lovely.
The very next morning, after dreaming about that perfect house, while staring groggy eyed into the mirror and foaming up my mouth with crest toothpaste, my dad's cheerful grin popped up from behind the bathroom door. "I have an idea."
Did I mention my dad's an inventor.
|(This is not my father. This is a "mad scientist" dude I found on google.)|
His past inventions include (drum roll please!):
- "The Movie Melt", a sticker placed on VHS videos with a chemical component which changes color when the tape reaches a temperature which will damage said video.
- "The Super Soaker", a neon yellow squirt gun with a rubber tube inside you fill up with a household hose
- "The Back Attacker", a full length body sponge with two handles used to cleanse oneself in the shower in all those "hard-to-reach" spots. Tagline: If you scrub my back, I'll scrub yours.
- "The pomegranate deseeder", a plastic apparatus designed to deseed an entire pomegranate with a mere tap of a spoon in under 60 seconds!
Hmm…I spit into the sink and rinse wondering if perhaps this time he had solved every mother's lament with potty-training their children with a plastic talking doll? But, no. He said, "Travel." I stared at him blankly and blinked. Travel. "Travel!" he repeated this time with more gusto, swooping up both of his arms creating an imaginary globe. "What other time in your life will you be able to do this? You're young. You're not tied down. Don't worry about the money! If I could go back and do it again, I would travel when I was YOUNG!"
I couldn't help but feel butterflies in my stomach and a smile forming on my face as his contagious excitement lurched toward me. He blurted out foreign countries: Panama, South America, the Phillipenes. In my head I mentally corrected him: Paris, Barcelona, Rome. I forgot to wipe the water dripping down my chin at this point as I stepped back from the sink and began jumping up and down with him.
Travel. What do you think? Yes, yes, I know. "But Meg" you point out, "All you do is travel!" Yes, that may be so, but have I ever traveled outside of the country extensively to the places I have alway wanted to visit with no agenda other than to explore and have great adventures?" The answer is no!
Has anyone ever been backpacking in Europe or been to any foreign countries? What are your life changing experiences?