Getting out of dodge.
June and July are my least favorite months. I find myself bored w the world around me and the weather is too hot for me to engage effectively with summer activities.
I walked out, the sun blaring down-all this to get bacon? Really? I do not even like bacon. Fine. I will go just to get out. I drove 6 hours w 2 16 year olds and 2 cats. For sure I want to get outta here! ‘Well’, my inner monologue tells me, ‘sunlight it is’. (FUCK) I left my sunglasses in my truck. AGGH! Fine. I am focussed. I wanna get out! This is my free to be me weekend. Each minute, second, millisecond counts. Gotta get outta DODGE! SMH, bacon in the sunlight it is. (very sad face)!
Step outside for the second time today. Hm. Wow. Nice. The teens are lounging on the hide-a-bed, he is sleeping (as usual). Gotta get outta Dodge. ‘HURRY, before you get sucked back in.’ This time the temperature is cool outside. Welcoming. I quicken my step as if I am being hunted and in a strong evasion of the law. Ahead of me I see 2 gals at the intersection-I look across at the timer on the cross-walk. Ooo. ‘14 seconds. Can I make it?’ My inner monologue observes, well, those ladies are not the fittest runners in this marathon at the crosswalk-surely I can make it WITH them if I rush. NICE. (Smiley face) I made it. I have escaped (realistically, I not even a block away however my spirit feels a chasm has been circumnavigated just to get here.). The adventure has started. I am giddy with anticipation and adventure. Hurry. DO not look back. Hurry. FO-CUS!
I hear music now. What is going on down there? Hm, k, ‘let’s make a plan’, ‘hurry I admonish myself-think quicker’, I have a little disposable income. I will go there after I do this ‘thing’ first. I will make it a temporary priority to check that music out after I do this first. I wonder what it is. Is it music slipping out of the Gay 90’s? OR music from a street band? Is there a festival? DO they serve wine? Is it socially acceptable to have wine right now (I did have wine with breakfast today-did not expect eggs and bacon to pair well w Malbec wine I remind myself-yep, let’s go for a second glass (smile arises).
I step into one of my utmost favorite places. No matter what city, what state-I adore places like this. The folks here speak a common language that I share. Curiosity and comforting conversations with our inner monologues. I speak w the woman at the desk, did not even ask me to get a new card-she shared a pre-generated login and password. I’m in! I am out. AGGHHH!! I log into my Pandora account, put on the headphones and liquid wine melts into my soul. Disclosure radio is my go to selection. (Dance Electronica). My teen and I share a love for this genre. So strange I often thing. I did not expect that truth to unfold. Another person who fits my skin as well as I do. NICE.
OOOoo. I am getting outta dodge I remind myself. With a furrowed brow and a terse redirection to FOCUS, finish this thing and part 2 is just down the street.. A smile forms. I crinkly my nose. Grit my teeth and bit the tip of my tongue w silly joy. I begin to roll my head from side to side to the rhythm of the music. Yes. There it is. The joy I have been running to; the objective to get outta dodge.
‘HERE I AM I SHOUT’ to myself. I am right here, I calmly wisher back. ‘I never left you’. You have been doing something I assure her-and now WE are here. U and I together again as we have been meant to be. IN this private escape-with the smell of books, the sound of turning pages and tap-tapping of keyboards, the coolness for the air conditioner. We are here!
Yes Monica- I speak again. ‘Welcome. How you have changed. The years have been kind to you. Your accolades are tremendous. Welcome little lady.’ I hope you do not go away again. Fight to stay and be and breath and live.
The music slows, the ‘blank space’ and darkness of silence ensues, with a deep visceral and cathartic breath.
This is perfect; a simply perfect moment in time, ‘this is just one of the many adventures for you as you continue to get outta dodge.’ I whisper to myself.
Author: Monica Ibirra