As we set out on the 3 hour drive I noticed that there was something a little different about this road trip than those of my past.
When did we cross the line from “young and carefree” to “old and dependent on medication?”
I was very unsettled at the thought of having left my carefree youth behind and in an attempt to stir some adolescent mischief I announced that I was going to- wait for it - take pictures of all of the passing cars. Yes. That was my idea of gettin’ a little crazy; snapping pictures of oncoming highway traffic with a camera. Cheyanna; on the other hand, has a wilder side and as soon as the words “take pictures of passing cars” left my mouth she was ready to up the ante.
With a glance upward at her sunroof she offered “Why don’t you hang out of the top of the car to take the picture.”
After all, this was a pretty precarious endeavor. Raising myself outside of a vehicle travelling 70 miles an hour? With a pricey electronic device in hand? What if the force of motion was too strong; plucking the camera out of my grasp and slamming it to its’ death on the pavement? What if, at the sight of a hefty mad-woman acting all “papparrazzi” from the top of a car, the driver of another vehicle crashes in a panic? What if a UFO descended upon us and beamed me into outerspace?
I decided to myself “well, that’s that. It’s simply too hazardous.” Just then I saw the medicine bottles from the corner of my eye; taunting me; reminding me that my formative years were long gone and I was a pair of bifocals away from middle aged. An impish grin slowly crept upon my face and a new resolution was made.
I threw caution to the wind, waited until I saw an 18 wheeler barreling down the pavement, grabbed my camera and hoisted myself out of the car. The wind blew my hair (and apparently my saliva) mercilessly as I snapped the picture; I then turned the camera on myself to document my brazen act of silliness. I collapsed, laughing hysterically into the passenger seat a new woman. A woman who had shown those medications who was boss and defeated old age
This is the victim:
Me at 70 mph = SCARY as hell:
Look closely and you'll see the slobber.. cute huh? (I apologize for the closeness of this picture; it's pretty gruesome..)
The wind had forced tears from my eyes and there wasn’t a tissue in sight; so I did what every resourceful woman would do:
Sara, darling – don’t send yourself into early labor. I will post the pics from the shower in a day or two; promise! Also in an effort to prevent the ever sweet Sara from delivering this child before he's done baking; let me clarify that Sara has been married for a few years - I use the term "knocked up" for dramatic effect only.