Roadtrip to Restore Sanity

Ok, let’s talk spontaneity. Have you ever decided on whim to go on a 1,019-mile road trip? Until today, I hadn’t. In fact, before today that kind of road trip probably would have scared me more than hanging out with a super mega redneck-eating worm.

Luckily, my co-conspirator, Matt, is not nearly so intimidating. During a serious digression from homework, we decided that it was time we seriously considered doing this thing. Ten minutes of serious thinking later, we were bouncing in our chairs like 4-year olds with a whole pillowcase of Halloween candy. Consequently, I *think* (read, ‘know’) me, @MATTVAS, and hopefully two others will be spending Oct 30 on the mall with 25,000 other Jon Stewart supporters.

Why? Good question. Here are the most rational answers I can come up with:

1. The Epic Factor. Let’s be honest. Senior year. Best of friends. 1,000 plus miles. Any questions?
2. Doability. With @MATTVAS‘s crazy cool new car, we get 36 miles to the gallon. We’re pretty sure we can get there and back for less than $200. We both have friends in DC to stay with, and we plan on eating PB&J’s all weekend. Four people. $50 each. WIN. Plus, Thursday night to Monday morning means we don’t miss any classes.
3. Satire. Yes. I’m in a satire class now, and have been studying the crap out of Stewart, Colbert, and the science of making fun of people. This is a flat-out satirical protest — the only one my teacher has ever heard of. Serious satire played out vastly public stage and a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

This just in! Robb is coming too! We are 75 percent ready to go. But yikes, we’ve done no homework. Ok. I officially declare this digression over. Let the countdown begin.

Rain (And welcome!)

Before I moved to Des Moines, rain was the most ephemeral thing I knew. Wyoming rain lasts about 13 minutes. (It can’t even make a whole quarter hour.) Little did I know. Real rain is NOT fleeting. Rivers (Tiber-esque rivers, people) were running down the street outside my apartment. I had to precariously jump over puddles with my 39-pound, pink-striped Andy Warhol Campbell’s soup can bag. And let me tell you, that is not easy to do and keep your shoes dry. And if it’s the first time you’ve worn them, you’re just one unlucky sonofabitch.

But actually, I loved it. Rain is still a novelty for me. I love waking up to an overcast sky and getting water on my rain shoes and umbrella. And the best part was this was not ordinary rain. It was warm rain. The BEST for standing in, running in, dancing in, etceraing in. I’m sad it’s over. But such is the nature of an ephemerism.

This blog is a collection of ephemerisms. Short-lived things that kill with their sheer awesomeness. Like rain, obvi (ew. I solemnly swear never to use “obvi” in a sentence ever again. So temporary.) I’m fascinated by the temporary. The most beautiful things are those we try to save –

Yawn, cheesefest. Done and done. It’s total crap when you have to explain your point. So just believe me when I say I have one. A point, that is. It’s probably short and sweet and cynical. But then again, everything’s made up and the points don’t matter are like rain. Ephemeral.

[image via dryicons]