Options and choices

Earlier this week I was packing for my trip to Colorado.  I heard this song.  Which doesn't really apply to this post but its dancy and allowed me to go ham on my air tambourine.

 

I was really looking forward to this trip as I was going to see Janice -THE bff.  I did, somewhere in the back of my mind, worry about the fact that if I chose to do this mini vacay, I would miss out on studio time.  With Thanksgiving 3 days after I got back, I could kiss the studio goodbye for another week.  I ignored that little worry because, man, you gotta live, right?

I was only going for 3 days and I packed a huge suitcase.   My husband was all, "Why?"  My answer was "options".  We had plans for dinner in Lodo where I might be in the mood for a dress and heels or maybe jeans and my cool, new boots.  Hiking means boots and jeans but not the good going out jeans and different boots.  B-day party for her dad -again with the dress and heels or leggings and boots issue.  Plus, what to travel in.  Since Janice and I wear close to the same size, I also brought her some options; as well as my clothes that would fit her better.

I hate flying, terrified really, I think of terrorists, dying (which I can't because my kids still need me) and imagined plane malfunctions.  I'm not sure if you've ever flown into Denver when the weather report says 'gusty' with a little wind emoji, but it really makes you think about the last time you were in rough turbulence -you had no idea what rough turbulence was.  I felt like a paint can that the Home Depot person puts into that shake machine.  Janice, I have to add, knew it was going to be rough and purposely withheld this info.  She did however, send me this text.

After a harrowing ride, a good friend buys you a drink, the bff has 3 shots waiting for you in a flask.

The first night we opted to drink too much while we were out to dinner with her dad and husband.  While sitting in this fabulous restaurant, drinking too much, we had a really inappropriate conversation.  Really.  Inappropriate.  Also, seems like when we start losing sobriety we make up for it in volume.  Here we are in Lodo leaving the restaurant.

The next night her dad celebrated his 70th birthday.  This man, does more hiking, traveling and shenanigans than anyone I know.  He looks more like 50.  Janice and I were trying to rally for the event because of our bad behavior in Lodo.  It should be noted that her father needed no rally efforts.  He even took the kids and the dog hiking that next morning.

As we decorated for the party, we opted to take a shot, hair of the dog, if you will, 'cause we were struggling.   Janice, ever the trooper, says, "If I'm not feeling any better in 30 minutes, I'm taking another shot."  I kind of shuddered as the first shot had to go down with a deep breath and a little prayer (Please, little baby Jesus, make it stay down).  I responded with, "Where you go, I go."  She laughed as I think she noticed the shudder, I also may have turned a shade of green.  Needless to say we had that second shot.

Right as the guests started to show I realized that those shots were starting to hit me.  Mighta been when I opted to introduce myself as "Hi, I'm Tonya Jean."  Tonya Jean?  I never use my middle name, verbally; as in never ever.  Janice looks at me and says, "Wow, are those shots hitting you too?" We burst into laughter and I realized we had fully rallied.  We did more drinking as we made our way through the guests and dinner.  I kinda got stuck at the wrong table at one point with an aunt who was of a mind to reminisce.  I love that, I do, so I stayed with her.  Then, I was talking to my other new favorite person, the sister-in-law, until I look over at Janice at the cousins table.  Note to self: always sit at the cousins table.  My sides still hurt.  At one point, I think it was a cousins husband (?), anyway he flipped me off, so I explained to him that he'd have to try harder if he wanted to offend me 'cause I will say it 'til I die, "Go Big Red!"

The next day we decided to go hiking with the kids, including teeny tiny Tabitha, of I Don't Care.  She is still tiny and at 2 still figuring out the concept of "hiking".  Sort of a 2 steps forward, 1 step backward kind of hike.  It was the perfect way to recover from the party the night before.  Eventually, Janice and I had to split from the rest of the family to head to Red Rocks so she could do a photo shoot.  I was the "assistant".  Pretty cool watching the bff do her thing in person.  I got a John Denver T-shirt.

Sadly, Monday morning came so I had to go.  Janice sent me off with a Xanax and a hug.  When her dad was loading me up, lugging my huge suitcase into his truck, he says, "You were only here for 3 days, right?!" Again, my only defense was "options".  Sitting in my window seat on the way back home, I was thinking about how awesome Xanax is, particularly for terrified flyers, as I was not scared at all.  I was also thinking about options, should I have a Bloody Mary while on Xanax?  Should we do our next trip together in Nevada or somewhere in between CO and SC?  Husbands?  If this lady next to me with the heart glasses tries to talk to me should I be a tired traveler and feign sleep or just dive into her brand of crazy?

While we do our thing, we may struggle with the options, choices and decisions presented to us.  I like to think of the example Janice's dad has always been for us, live every moment of your life.  Be still when you have to, say like, when opting to hike with a 2 year old.  Have fun -choose to misbehave in Lodo.  Work hard, like when having to split from family time to do work.  Mistakes will be made but they are also opportunities, like having wardrobe options after lugging a huge suitcase across the country.