In the previous blog post, we had arrived in Texas and my friend had a plan for us. I had mentioned that emotionally I needed to talk about what had happened. So I'm going to start off with the plan my friend had that kept us busy and exhausted on the weekends.
First of all, Texas is not only different from Battle Creek, Michigan. It's said Texas is another country, and it's true. This place may be my first experience this far from home, but I know that's not the only reason it feels like a different country. As a person from a small town in Michigan, it seems like a foreign country to me. People here are nice. They are open and greet you simply because they are passing you in the park. The culture is different in that way, and I don't know why. It makes it a pleasant place to be. Maybe it's the economy down here. Even during bad times, their Sunday paper job ads are still four pages long. In Battle Creek, that would make us all happy!! It would definitely change the atmosphere in that little town.
So my awesome friend I'm staying with in Texas has a plan for us. This girl always has a plan. Making plans is not my special talent. So I'm glad it's hers. (She also has this terrific memory. She tells me things I did in high school, things other people did ten years ago, and I'm lucky if I remember their names or their face. Recollection is something I work at daily!) So what is her plan? Explore museums. Eat at different restaurants that Michigan doesn't have. Explore places we've never been.
Texas Road House- Restaurant. They play country music. I know it's not the defining thing about this place, but for me, I loved it. I love country music, even the dumb songs. The "thing" with this restaurant is this: they have an aluminum, metal type of bucket at the table. It's filled with peanuts. And you can throw the shells on the floor. Did I tell you what I've done most of my life? Did I mention that part? I clean. My mom is a clean-freak-she deep cleans the stove almost everyday. I'm not into it that extensively (and pray for me if I ever am!), but I've cleaned floors for the last 10 years.
Texas Road House, upon walking in, has crushed peanuts all over the floor. My first thought is, "Wow, do they have to clean this up every night? Poor employees. I hope they at least have a vacuum with powerful suction. That has to be a pain." (I forgot to ask them if they clean it up and how it's done...go figure, right?) My son is eight years old, and he's thinking, "Yay!! I get to throw peanuts on the floor!!" And I look at him, and tell him, um, "No, you're not." He wasn't happy about that. Sorry kiddo, just because Texas Road House lets you do it doesn't mean I will.
The other aspects I remember: people wore cowboy boots, and cowboy hats. Most people I am related to listen to country music, most of us don't wear the gear, but I love it when I see other people wearing the gear. I hate wearing hats, and I don't think cowboy boots would be comfortable at all, even for a short time. But I loved how it all went together there: cowboys, cowgirls, country music, and even cactus plants. Awesome. We need one of these in Michigan. Not sure if it would thrive, but I'd eat there!! As far as food, I don't remember exactly what their specialty was, but I bet it was something that included cows. Just saying!! This is Texas after all!
We ate at Dave & Buster's one night, and I wasn't impressed with the service we received. So I won't talk about that. The cool thing about Dave & Buster's is that in the back there is a complete area of games to play. Skee-ball (is that spelled correctly?), basketball games, arcade games. It reminded me of a pizza place in Battle Creek that is no longer open. Wonderful idea for parents, because we don't have to cook, and we all get to play some games. Pricey? Yes, but it's worth it if you go once in awhile. And by the way, I'm sure the service we received isn't always bad. It wouldn't be a successful business in that case.
One day we ate at the Hard Rock Cafe. I knew instantly upon walking in I would love to work there. I love music...rap, jazz, R&B, classical, country, hip-hop, pop, 80's, hard rock, alternative, soft, etc. I love music, it doesn't have to be a certain genre for me. It's all about what you're expressing, the beauty in it, and how music in itself can speak things words never will. So work at the Hard Rock Cafe? Yeah, it would be a blast. There was a TV on that had music videos on it, all kinds of different ones. I think while we were there, I noticed that it went from an 80's rock video to current hip-hop. Oh yes, let me feast on that! I loved that place, even if it was a short and sweet visit. I used to waitress in Battle Creek that had a live band named
Project 32 (look them up on Facebook, I promise you, they do not leave you disappointed!) and loved working there, simply because of the music. Everything else that could irritate me didn't matter once the music came on. So Hard Rock Cafe was definitely my favorite place to go, with Texas Road House coming in second, and Dave & Buster's last. (There were some other places we ate in Galveston while at the beach, but I can't remember the name. I'll ask my friend with the amazing memory and get back to you on that.)
So in the next post, I'll fill you in on other places we've eaten at, along with The Children's Museum, The Aquarium, and the Museum of Natural Science. All of which Zech loved.
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Road Trip to Texas
Driving to Texas from Michigan is a long drive. Let's just say I'm glad I lived in Southern Michigan...especially during the summer months. Texas was in the middle of having a drought on our way down. I've never had a car with air conditioning. It's never hot enough for long enough in Michigan to really worry about it. It was 90 degrees in the car when we left, and it was once we got into the southern part of Illinois. The hotel room that we slept in later that night had air, a clean bed and a shower. I felt like I was in heaven. I was also surprised to hear that they had a southern accent in that state. Really? And that's when I realized I'd never been anywhere in my life. Just good ol' Battle Creek, MI.
We seen amazing things on the drive down. We didn't stop to see anything, but on the road we seen the Mississippi River, and I seen a mountain (I think it was a mountain..?) for the first time ever. I am afraid of water, and while I'll swim in small lakes, you may as well know that going over a huge bridge (I can't remember the name of it now, darn!) that covers the San Jacinto Bay, scared the day lights out of me. Every time we went over a bridge that covered a large body of water, I held my breath for a few seconds. I've seen too many movies where the bridges collapse. In the movie Titanic, the ocean swallowed the Titanic like it was a snack. I think my eyes almost fell out of my head when I saw that movie, and I never watched it again. Enough horror for me. Have I gone swimming since I got to Texas six weeks ago? Nope. I don't plan on it, either.
On the way down, what was I thinking? Nothing. I was on auto pilot. I only thought when I needed to, and when a good song came on, I cried. It hadn't even hit me yet what moving to Texas or even leaving home would feel like. I was simply surviving, something I thought I was done doing a long time ago. I'm good at surviving, but I always wanted to move to the next level of my existence.
We finally arrived at my friend's apartment a bit after 11 pm on August 1, 2011. That would be a bit after midnight on August 2, 2011 according to Michigan time, as Michigan is an hour ahead of Texas. It was hard, and I had no idea what I was going to do. My life had been turned upside down. Thankfully, my friend had somewhat of a plan for us while we were here, and mostly kept her opinion to herself. She had one rule: we couldn't talk about my ex-boyfriend. I appreciated it in the beginning, but soon found myself needing to talk to someone about my experience with him.
We seen amazing things on the drive down. We didn't stop to see anything, but on the road we seen the Mississippi River, and I seen a mountain (I think it was a mountain..?) for the first time ever. I am afraid of water, and while I'll swim in small lakes, you may as well know that going over a huge bridge (I can't remember the name of it now, darn!) that covers the San Jacinto Bay, scared the day lights out of me. Every time we went over a bridge that covered a large body of water, I held my breath for a few seconds. I've seen too many movies where the bridges collapse. In the movie Titanic, the ocean swallowed the Titanic like it was a snack. I think my eyes almost fell out of my head when I saw that movie, and I never watched it again. Enough horror for me. Have I gone swimming since I got to Texas six weeks ago? Nope. I don't plan on it, either.
On the way down, what was I thinking? Nothing. I was on auto pilot. I only thought when I needed to, and when a good song came on, I cried. It hadn't even hit me yet what moving to Texas or even leaving home would feel like. I was simply surviving, something I thought I was done doing a long time ago. I'm good at surviving, but I always wanted to move to the next level of my existence.
We finally arrived at my friend's apartment a bit after 11 pm on August 1, 2011. That would be a bit after midnight on August 2, 2011 according to Michigan time, as Michigan is an hour ahead of Texas. It was hard, and I had no idea what I was going to do. My life had been turned upside down. Thankfully, my friend had somewhat of a plan for us while we were here, and mostly kept her opinion to herself. She had one rule: we couldn't talk about my ex-boyfriend. I appreciated it in the beginning, but soon found myself needing to talk to someone about my experience with him.
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Leaving Home
And so it happened that when I did finally leave, chaos erupted. I won't go into all of the details, but I had friends staying over night for protection, and one in particular had his tires slashed along with my own. So, to protect my family, I stayed with my brother for a week. It was a Thursday night and I was on the phone with a life long friend of mine. I filled her in on the situation and she offered to put my son and I up. I mean, after all, who would travel over a 1,000 miles for a woman anyway? I left on Sunday morning.
I signed off on my house, the one I'd worked so hard for through Habitat for Humanity. I loved that house, and there's not a day that goes by I don't miss something about it. My family packed up everything in my home for me, since I couldn't be there because I was still being followed and watched by friends of my ex's. My family members stored my things. I took what was the most important: legal documents, pictures, clothes, and basic necessities. I remember simply feeling as if I was in shock. This was my life, all wrapped up in boxes and bags. I looked at my family members, and I couldn't say or think of anything. I was frozen.
I remember saying goodbye, but not necessarily to my sister. I couldn't. Maybe because I knew she'd talk me into staying. It was hard to say goodbye to my mom, she hid in her room like she always has when life has been rough on her. One of my really good friends, like an older sister, saw me off. And I said goodbye to home.
I signed off on my house, the one I'd worked so hard for through Habitat for Humanity. I loved that house, and there's not a day that goes by I don't miss something about it. My family packed up everything in my home for me, since I couldn't be there because I was still being followed and watched by friends of my ex's. My family members stored my things. I took what was the most important: legal documents, pictures, clothes, and basic necessities. I remember simply feeling as if I was in shock. This was my life, all wrapped up in boxes and bags. I looked at my family members, and I couldn't say or think of anything. I was frozen.
I remember saying goodbye, but not necessarily to my sister. I couldn't. Maybe because I knew she'd talk me into staying. It was hard to say goodbye to my mom, she hid in her room like she always has when life has been rough on her. One of my really good friends, like an older sister, saw me off. And I said goodbye to home.
Monday, September 12, 2011
The Current Story
Now after all that has happened...I am in Texas. Texas is a long way from home. Leaving home, hurts. A lot. It's one of those things in life you go through that hurt no matter what, like someone dying. It's disconnection of what foundation you did have, of anything that you knew; you choose to leave it behind for one reason or another.
I left mine because it got really scary. I know most people don't talk about the details of these kinds of situations, but I've never been anyone else. Some secrets were meant to be told.
I was involved with a man I decided wasn't the best fit for my son and I. I was afraid to leave. He wasn't the outspoken controlling type. It was subtle...so very subtle...that it was hard to catch anything specific...and so I had to eventually trust my instincts. I went to see my therapist, whom I originally went to see over a suspicion of Attention Deficit Disorder more than a year ago. I'm glad I made that decision.
She asked me why I kept changing my mind about leaving him. I had broken it off twice in a month, she explained, and she asked me directly (and I so appreciate it when people are direct with me!) if I was afraid of leaving. Yeah, I was afraid. I was terrified in a way I had never been in my life. I didn't want to admit it to myself. I knew there was something different, something off or odd about him that was just under the surface. We'd only been involved for a few months, but I knew it didn't matter. He was dangerous if what was under his facade ever broke loose, and I was pretty sure leaving would break it.
I left mine because it got really scary. I know most people don't talk about the details of these kinds of situations, but I've never been anyone else. Some secrets were meant to be told.
I was involved with a man I decided wasn't the best fit for my son and I. I was afraid to leave. He wasn't the outspoken controlling type. It was subtle...so very subtle...that it was hard to catch anything specific...and so I had to eventually trust my instincts. I went to see my therapist, whom I originally went to see over a suspicion of Attention Deficit Disorder more than a year ago. I'm glad I made that decision.
She asked me why I kept changing my mind about leaving him. I had broken it off twice in a month, she explained, and she asked me directly (and I so appreciate it when people are direct with me!) if I was afraid of leaving. Yeah, I was afraid. I was terrified in a way I had never been in my life. I didn't want to admit it to myself. I knew there was something different, something off or odd about him that was just under the surface. We'd only been involved for a few months, but I knew it didn't matter. He was dangerous if what was under his facade ever broke loose, and I was pretty sure leaving would break it.
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