Sentimental

I've tried to explain it to my niece, but she just doesn't get it.  Not yet at least.  It will happen to her too some day.  How do I know?  Because I too was once young and naive.  I remember watching tv as a child and my mom tearing up during a Hallmark commercial.  I would roll my eyes and chuckle.  Little did I know that my time was coming.  Mom would also get choked up during the national anthem or reading a birthday card.  "Geez, mom, why do you always cry?"

The apple doesn't fall far from the tree.  I can barely see a person in military uniform without getting a knot in my throat.  And at my niece's high school graduation, with my hand over my heart, reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, the tears were falling.  I would have been embarrassed, but I looked over at mom, and her mascara was streaked as well.

In Azerbaijan, all young men had to serve in the military, unless they were able to bribe their way out.  We would routinely see Soviet-era infantry trucks transporting the young troops - very young.  I doubt many of them even needed to shave yet, but there they sat, bumping along the road, with machine guns slung over their shoulders.  I remember saying out loud, "I can't believe those boys are given guns."  And Kyle responded with, "Maybe it's the innocence of youth that makes them hungry for a fight."

And I think that might be true for all of us.  When we are young, we can't yet appreciate the fragility of life.  Maybe it's only with added years that we have grown emotionally enough to be sentimental.  So, it's something  you have to experience and live.  Get your kleenex out youngins', because if video games and reality tv doesn't desensitize you, you too will earn the honor of crying at the next Lifetime movie.

Keeping Up with the Joneses

We've all gone mad.

I thought I had officially "arrived" with the purchase of a stainless steel refrigerator.  But apparently, they were created solely to push border-line OCD people over the edge.  The fingerprints never stop.  Not to sound ungrateful and incredibly spoiled, but can't I go back to a black fridge?  It's hanging out in the garage, keeping the beer cold.  I'm sure it would be happy to get a promotion to the house.

And when did it become vogue to stain concrete?  I thought it would be enough to own a great house in a cool neighborhood.  But, I look out my front windows and we're about the only house without a stained driveway.  The anxiety level is rising.

While I'm ranting, the packaging of irrelevant items has gotten out of control.  At first, it was CDs that took a pair of scissors, teeth and a sharp fingernail to open.  It seems that everything has gone that same route.  It took me 5 minutes to free my eye drops from their box and safety seal.  My dry contacts had plum fallen out of my eyes by then.

We've become a society of ridiculous appliances and overly-processed, shrink wrapped groceries.  And, I still heart it more than Azerbaijan.

It's a Bike Thing

It could have been worse.  Much worse.  Thankfully, I only ended up with a strawberry on my chin, scrapes on my knee, ankle and palm and a very sore elbow.  We had been riding our road bikes for almost 2 hours through the Badlands National Park in South Dakota, when my brain drifted off to la-la land and consequently, my bike drifted off the pavement onto small pebbles.  Road bike tires are extremely skinny, and the bumpy surface made the bike slide right out from under me.  I skidded to a stop, chin first.  The hubby was quite a distance ahead of me, so instead of bursting into tears, like I really wanted to do, I had to get back on and keep riding - total of 34 miles.

We've rode bikes (although not always as vigorously as in the Badlands) all over the world.  One of our first indulgent purchases after college were mountain bikes and all of the accompanying gear - special pedals that special shoes clip in to, hydration packs, helmets, gloves, padded shorts and brightly-colored shirts.  After honing our skills on trails at several state parks in Oklahoma - Thunderbird, Draper, Roman Nose, Hefner - we rode true terrain in Canmore, Canada, and then Crested Butte, Colorado.

The mountain bikes were hung in the garage while we lived in Houston, as I was teaching several indoor cycling classes and just didn't have the energy to fight the oppressive outdoor humidity.  But the mountain bikes were granted a reprieve when we moved to Denver.  Those bad boys were never given a weekend off until the snow was too deep to pedal through.  They floated on the Atlantic to Kazakhstan and by train to Azerbaijan, but sadly, never made it on any foreign trails.

Brooke and Kyle in Munich

We did however rent bikes for a relaxing tour of Munich, Germany, before partaking in Oktoberfest.  We also explored the island of Corfu, Greece, on bikes.  And I ventured out solo along the mangrove swamps of Marathon Island in the Florida Keys.  It's a great way to take in all of the sights, smells and feeling emitting from a town and it's surrounding nature.  My family teases me, "Look!  There's a bike rental place.  We better drop Brooke off now!"  I think I'm addicted to the sweating, wind in the face, rhythmic pedaling and obtainable challenges that a bike can offer.

Brooke in Corfu, Greece

Brooke with a "townie bike" in the Florida Keys (love the basket!)

Happy Brooke, before the fall, in the Badlands of South Dakota

Spurred mostly by my sudden entry into a triathlon, we recently splurged on road bikes.  Until we left for South Dakota, we were toughening up our saddles on the country hills east of OKC.  And before my asphalt face-plant, the worst I had encountered was a chain caught between gears and a flat tire 2 blocks from home.  The hubby got wicked poison ivy on two separate occasions, but I think there's a saying (or at least there should be), you can't keep a good cyclist down.

Road Trip!

While living internationally, there were so many things about home that we missed and which have been discussed in-depth in this blog.  But the "road trip" was one that we didn't even know we were longing for.  The freedom to load up your own vehicle with junk food, a few changes of clothing and a full tank of gas, is taken for granted when you can do it any ole time.  It's only when you don't have access to a personal car and the countryside is deemed dangerous, that one might start thinking, "Why didn't I explore the states a bit more?"

Brooke at Mt. Rushmore

So, we are now at liberty to indulge in one of America's greatest past times.  Our Great American Road Trip was a spur-of-the-moment day's long drive to southwestern South Dakota. With our bicycles on the bumper and an ice chest packed full of Gatorade and soda, we drove straight north, up through Kansas and Nebraska, to enjoy the Black Hills.  Mount Rushmore, Crazy Horse, a plethora of national parks, Sturgis, Deadwood, all wrapped up in a nice little package.

Kyle running along the Mickelson Trail

Escaping a month-long heat wave in Oklahoma, we appreciated the 75 degree highs.  Afternoon rain storms were pleasant and the smell of "mountain air" was reviving.  We enjoyed buffalo meat at the Buglin' Bull Restaurant and rhubarb pie a la mode at a local bakery.  We worked off our calories with runs along the magnificent Mickelson Trail and bicycling in the Badlands.  We didn't even mind the drive home, which for 14 hours, it's hard not to notice that the only radio stations that always come in clearly are either Christian or in Spanish. And in true fashion, the whole way home, I repeatedly asked, "Where are we going next?" 

Fourth of July

Today is the day.  It's been a couple of months in the making.  No more procrastinating.  It simply has to be done.  I will update my "current city status" and "employment status" on Facebook. 

Only occassionally will I make comments like, "Remember where we were this time last year?"  or "Five years ago today..."  But, it's hard not to do that around this time of year.  I have always loved July 4.  It's the epitome of summertime.  Watermelon, fresh cut grass, smell of chlorine, sunburns, bleached-out hair and fireworks.  What's not to love?  Starting our last year of college, we spent the next 5 Fourths with our best friend Ryan.  Either floating down the Tahlequah River, boating or hanging out by a pool, it seemed we were always enjoying the holiday together.  Those were great times that I will always cherish.

But last year was certainly one to mention, because on July 2, the hubby, the two terriers and I were on a plane bound for Almaty, Kazakhstan.  We embarked on the craziest adventure of our lives and better yet, we lived to tell about it!  We spent Independence Day 2010 eating shashlick, drinking imported beers at a Kazak pub, feeling very much out of our element.   Over the past year, I have worn these random experiences as a badge of honor.  Maybe I thought it showed that I was tough enough to endure or open-minded enough to take it all in. I was proud of us for doing something so bold and a little unorthodox.

A year later, we're gratefully back in the USA, but I have been reluctant to change my Facebook statuses.  I ponder why....living internationally meant I couldn't officially have a job, because I didn't have a work permit.  It was perfectly acceptable to be an ex-pat wife.  But now, it seems a little lazy and spoiled of me to not have children and not work.  "Stay-at-home dog mom" sounds ridiculous.  And although I love Oklahoma and I'll always be an Okie at heart, I'd love to have my "current city" listed as some exotic locale.  It's an odd internal struggle. 

My remedy?  Buy an American flag and fly it patriotically.  We will also spend quality time with friends and family eating good ol' fashion American hamburgers and hotdogs.  And I will update my Facebook profile.