Somewhere Over the Rainbow

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tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…tick…KABOOM!

What was that, Jean?
Why it was my time-to-travel time bomb.
Do these explode often?
According to one of my friends, mine goes off when the month begins with "J" or "N," the moon is full (howling may or may not be heard), and when "Macy's" become a four-letter letter word when it's not a plural possessive!

When the going gets monotonous, the Bored go to NYC. So, I packed my bag, put my Hello Kitty gel pen in my purse, grabbed a notebook, and my travels became an open book.

Tonight, I’m going to see a musician whose music I have loved for the last ten years. (You might recall my adventures to NYC in July and November of last year if you jump in the wayback machine, Peabody.) If I’m on that deserted island with only ten CDs, I’ll have Elvis and Burt and definitely one or more CDs by this musician.

I kept thinking that I should wait until I get a job to make a break for it; however, as you’ve read, it would seem that the odds are more likely that I’ll get a job by chance in NYC than by staying home in front of my laptop. Note that the job in NYC will most likely not be a Macy’s!

When I went to leave this morning, Iz saw my suitcase.
She asked, “Where are you going?” as if she had just caught me sneaking out the basement door with a green Hefty trash full of clothing slung over my back.
I said, “Remember, I’m going to New York for the night.”
She said, “Aw, can I come?”
I said, “Not this time.”
She said, “But, I want to come.”
I said, “I will bring you a present.”
At the exact moment I mentioned the “p” word, her eyes lit up and she said, as if she’d just checked her “The Things I Didn’t Get from Santa” list, “I want Holly Moose!”
I said, “Well, I don’t know if I’ll be near a Build-A-Bear workshop, Iz.”
She thought for two seconds and then said, “Okay. I want a purse.”
I said, “But, you have a bunch of purses.”
She quickly shot back, “But, I don’t like any of them!”

I had to remind myself then that if I fought this, I would soon hear, “But, Mommy, you have all those purses.” Clearly, I had more purses than job offers, even if I was offered a job every day for the next four weeks. (Of course, most of them are vintage, which makes them a collection and makes me so not a purse-a-shopaholic!)

I said, “Okay.”
She said, “Pink. I’d like a pink purse.”
I kissed her good-bye, and she said, “I’ll miss you, Mommy.”

At that moment, I wanted to cancel my trip, because I would miss her, too. But, I was really looking forward to my little 24-hour get-a-away. Leaving home every now and then makes me appreciate home even more and, as of late, endure staying at home without a job more.

“If I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with! Is that right?” ~Dorothy

When at the train station, the woman sitting across from me asked me about seating on the train. She wanted to know if she’d have someone sitting next to her. I told her that even though we were only the second stop out of Boston, it was most likely she would have a seatmate when she got on and, if not, she would surely be making a new friend by Providence, Rhode Island.

I mentioned that I had never gotten on and been lucky enough to get a window seat. I then said, totally unaware of what I was saying or how I was saying it, “I like the window. I’m like a big golden retriever!” I then realized what I said and how I said it and quickly added, "Oh, that sounds so silly." She said, “No. I get it. I’m a psychologist!”

Why is it that whenever someone says "I'm a psychologist," I immediately feel like my every word will be analyzed?! Of course, for some reason, I work on the ridiculous assumption that psychologists are always working 24/7. Why do I think that being a psychologist isn't something you can't leave at the office? I've certainly thought that chefs left their spatulas at the restaurant and were not dispensing recipes to every stranger they bumped into when not at the restaurant.

She continued to ask me about what she should expect on the train. I felt, whether she was analyzing me or not, like the second-grader showing the first-grader around the cafeteria. "Never eat the tater-tots; they taste like cardboard. But, the chocolate cake that looks like a brown sponge is really good!" Anyway, it's good to feel knowledgable, especially when you don't feel that way most days of the week!

In the end, she was quite lovely, showing me pictures of her three handsome sons. She asked me why I was going to the city, and I told her I was music-motivated. I asked her why she was going to the city, and he said she was going to spend the weekend with an old college friend.

I found this all rather ironic, given that the last time I came home on the train, I sat across from and chatted to a very lovely psychologist. Today, I wondered briefly, after bumping into my second psychologist, if somebody was trying to tell me something. One of my friends asked me what I thought “they” were trying to tell me.

I answered that I didn’t have a clue as to what they were trying to tell me. Obviously, I’d rather listen to what the voices inside my head and the church billboards were trying to tell me anyway! (By the way, the next sermon at that church is "If I Could." I've got to check that place out.)

When our conversation ended, my phone beeped, and I saw that I had gotten email from a friend telling me to drive safely, stay warm, be safe, and not to talk to strangers. Oops. Well, psychologists aren’t really strangers, are they? They just talk to people like me who strangely identify with being a Golden Retriever with its nose pressed to window. Anyway, I wallowed in my friend's caring email for a moment or two.

Just then I felt something. It was an emotional epiphany. I felt it in my heart. And, I could sense that though I knew that feeling was there all along, suddenly, it became new again with each beat of my heart.

I felt loved by my friend. I felt loved by Iz. After a semi-challenging week, Macy's and documentation estimates went straight out of my head. And into my heart came love and knowing again that having people who love you is far more important than anything else; it is the rainbow. ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

“A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others.” ~Wizard of Oz

The Regional Train Versus the Acela Train Note: I’ve been on the Acela train a few times; it’s express to NYC, but it’s more expensive. I was on the regional (many stops) train today. I realized that even if I had the money, I’d still stay on the regional train. I like the slow pace, and the stops are like periods at the end of the sentences that comprise the paragraphs that become my journey.

As we slowly jostled back and forth over the tracks through New Haven, CT, I noticed a painted sign on the side of an old brick mill building that said, “Smoothie Foundation Garments.” Foundation garments? I immediately thought of those medieval lingerie torture devices like bullet bras and girdles, which made me laugh. I wondered what had become of Smoothie Foundation Garments. And, as we all know, where there’s a question, there’s bound to be a google.

When you travel slowly, you can see much better; when you’re zooming along, you miss a helluva lot for sure. ♥

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