Come Away With Me

Norah Jones - "Come Away With Me"

Aaaahhhh...That woman's voice, makes me gasp and swoon a little. Maybe even a lot.

So, we were back on the road to Albuquerque. After locking us out of the car, we duct-taped the dogs to the roof. NO! Now I was just saying how I was taking responsibility for my own actions, wasn't I? I didn't yell at Gomez - after all, it wasn't his fault, the little bastard, but I didn't want him on my lap either. I needed some time to calm down after freaking out at the gas station. My eyeballs were back in their sockets - although a bit grainy from some dirt, sand and gravel.

Like I said, I was encouraged. We were only going to be 4 hours late picking up Mom and Dad, instead of...I don't know...50. 4 HOURS LATE!! I tried to calm myself. I tried to breathe deeply, to think serene thoughts. I tried to imagine walking at the Ocean with the dogs - but then I just ended up seeing Santa blowing everyone, the dogs eating and rolling in shit and all things dead, and yelling at inconsiderate dog owners.

Okay, I needed to imagine something else, something really peaceful. I thought of lying in the sun with the dogs. Sitting out by the pool with the luffing of the leaves of the palm trees rustling against one another. I would close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun holding me, kissing my face...and then the dogs would start to go ballistic - barking at him. And he would waddle over trying to rub his penis on me and ask me if I wanted to come over to his place and have some coffee or a martini, where he'd then slip me a ruffie and I'd awake hanging from the ceiling in a sling with an audience.

Now, not only was I perturbed, but nauseated.

Then I started thinking about Clay Aiken and a recent interview I read and how I wanted to punch him in the face and push him down a flight of stairs. But, that's for another post.

Damnit! Nothing was calming me. I continued driving just hoping that nothing else would slow us down. I just wanted to get my folks in the car safe and sound. The sun started setting and the New Mexico landscape took on brilliant colors of yellow, orange and red that I've never seen before. I thought of Clay Aiken's hair and became even more nauseated and agitated.

The lights of Albuquerque were beginning to shimmer in the distance. When we finally arrived into the city limits, I wondered why the hell there was so much traffic. It felt like it was midnight. Will turned to me as the colors of the New Mexico landscape had melted into brake lights and said with a resignation in his voice, "It's rush hour."

I looked at the clock on the dashboard and realized that it was 5:30. The sea of brake lights in front of us brought everything to a grinding halt and the rest of my spirits sank. I turned to Will and said, "I know that in the scheme of things, we're really lucky, but I think that I'm going to blow a gasket."

Right before we left Santa Barbara, I had packed a LOT of food. I packed our bags in the trunk, but had also grabbed cereal bars, fruit, sesame sticks and other snack food and wine from our favorite winery. Will had told me that I had packed too much and that even though I have a mid-sized car, the trunk is relatively small. He said that we weren't going to have room once we picked up Mom and Dad. Ever the delusional optimist that I am I assured him that all would be fine - that I'd make it work.

When we finally arrived at a VERY cold airport and laid eyes on my exhausted parents, the moment of relief was stolen by...too much stuff in the trunk. I started ripping things out of bags and boxes and stuffing here and there and folding and rolling and squashing. Will stood there shaking his head while my folks watched in disbelief wondering where the hell I was going to put everything.

I told everyone to get in the car and that I would take care of it. By the tone of my voice and the chill in the air, no one argued. The only thing that we couldn't fit was an over-ripe pear. And hating to waste food, it killed me to leave it, but I did...that poor lonely pear. I just about had to sit on the trunk to get the damn thing to shut, but it did. I locked it for fear of it flying open on the freeway exploding our things all over the place.

Mom and Dad were safely in the car and we were off again, back into traffic. My brothers kept calling on my parent's cell phones; "THE DOGS DID WHAT??? WHERE?? GALLUP??? HAHAHAHA!!" So, while I was trying to find our way, two cell phones would be ringing alternately, then simultaneously, then Mom and Dad would be talking in them loud enough for the hearing impaired. Between, that, the traffic and the dogs, I thought that I may just try and walk the rest of the way.

The rest of the trip to Taos was uneventful...certainly in comparison. The lights of Albuquerque fell away and were replaced by the lights of Santa Fe and Taos respectively. We were worn out, but when we pulled into that fantastic little home in Taos (that wasn't so little) that we rented, it was such an unbelievably welcome site. It was clean and bigger than we imagined. There were homemade cookies and a note waiting for us. Firewood ready to go into the fireplace to add to the warmth of the adobe.

We brought our bags in and picked our bedrooms. My father was designated "Grand Firestarter" and there was a crackling of burning wood in no time. Wine was poured and pizza and salads ordered.

And Taos waited for us to wake up in the morning rested and refreshed.

It waited.

And waited.

While we slept.