Day 36 - Road Trip

I heart road trips. And for the first time in a long time, I'm driving alone--from ocean to desert. While the frantic morning zips by, the promise of grey road and blue sky beckons. In the car, the stereo sounds the steady voice of an audiobook gifted to me by my wonderful mother-in-law. As an audiobook first-timer, I'm pleasantly surprised by how quickly I am absolutely ensconced in the true story account of the humanitarian hero Greg Mortenson in the book "Three Cups of Tea."

I listen and choke back tears as the story of his fantastical struggles to build schools and medical centers in remote regions of Pakistan unfolds during the picturesque drive. It reminds me of my yet-to-be-tackled volunteering goal. My spirit renewed, I promise to follow through. One of the things I find the most heart-breaking and unnecessary in today's modern world, is the extreme poverty, hunger, and lack of medical help of our Third World countries.

As if by divine "coincidence", I turn on my lap top to check my email when I reach Phoenix, and a message awaits from one of my first and fave organizations to volunteer for, "Planting Peace," which provides medical treatments and education and sustainable solutions to some of the world's most impoverished regions. I am ecstatic to hear from them, as I sent several emails (as explained, the address was unmanned, oops) a few weeks ago. I hope to help soon.

So, in Phoenix, I immediately traveled to a nearby fave hip and arty wine bar to meet two of my best girl friends for pinot noir and bruschetta in celebration of B's last night as a single girl. Their pitch-perfect company, rift with our smart girl humor and airtight analyzations (of course we're right, guys), rendered me happy and blessed. This much-needed night wiped away my recent loneliness. Sigh of relief. Sigh of relief.

But sadly, and I'm just going to say this (I'm really just hoping no one's reading this far down): Like an animal out of a cage, my bliss led me--right before returning home in a half-drunk happy stupor--to smoke one half of one cigarette. Arg.

So there it is. I said it. Am I disappointed? yes. Crushed? yes. Self-mad? yes. Is there anything I can do to change it? no. Is there anything I can do to change the future? yes.

I contemplate some form of self-punishment, or implementation of road blocks to this result. No drinking? No celebration attendance? No vacations? Kidding, but kinda seriously, these are my i-want-to-smoke Achilles heels. I need suggestions/ideas...how to make-it-right and not slip again? Prevent unraveling?

Sigh. And then slap my own face.

Anyhoo...let's end with pictures from the long drive into the desert...