St. Joe is the hour-in mark. Mound City has a Sinclair with a dinosaur outside. It's the last stop for a while, so if you think you might have to pee, don't chance it. When you see the billowing steam from the factory on your left, you know you've made it. Twenty five more minutes and you'll get to see his face.
I've made the drive from Lawrence, Kansas to Omaha, Nebraska a few times now. We're getting to know each other well. Sometimes it feels like I'll never make it, and other times I can sit back and enjoy the sparse radio Missouri and Iowa have to offer and enjoy the in-between of getting from here to there.
I've lived enough to know that I should relish this liminal space we're in. My natural tendency is to think thoughts that go towards darkness, sadness, discouragement. So far, the excitement and happiness have kept that part of me mostly at bay, though I also know that this kind of thing only gets harder as time goes on. Not thinking about it is a trick I'm learning to perfect. It helps that he's the opposite: positive, light, satisfied.
I said I didn't ever want to do long distance again, but life is not one to take requests or comply with demands. And honestly, I'm thankful. Meeting someone I actually liked was so far from my mind that I still can't believe it happened. You forget, what you would do to be with someone you care about. How three hours in the car is minute compared to the time you get together. I can't say I'm looking forward to an indefinite time period of being apart and all the joys that come with that, but what I am looking forward to makes it worth it.
And yes, I'm talking about going to the zoo. What else do you do in Omaha?
In other news, I lost my Steeler button and Hillary Clinton is stalking the ad space on the websites I visit. Waste of time, sister. Also, I found a bomb ass Princeton t-shirt at ATC today. It is paper-thin and everything you could ever want in a thrifted shirt. We are living happily ever after.
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