The drive

I decided I'm never going to want to write the mammoth "this is my new life and how I got here" post that no one will ever want to read, either, so we'll break it up into vignettes, whatcha say. If you're reading this one, I probably sent you the link in lieu of a full response to an e-mail you wrote me. Don't be offended. The best part of my new life is that it demands efficiency.

The first thing I remember is seeing the reflection of my dad leaning forward, gripping the U-Haul steering wheel with hands close together, in the sideview mirror over the laminated map of DC I was examining. We needed gas for the U-Haul. We didn't need the fifteen minute detour we took. While pumping, they sent me next door to the Caribbean/Greek (???) place for food. The guy behind the counter made conversation about Tennessee, Connecticut, soul food, and 80s ballads. As we finally readied to pull away, Mom kicked me out of her passenger seat to direct the backing up. So I rode two-thirds of the way in the U-Haul, without the security of my magazines or CDs. Scary thought, but I felt like I was coming back to the closeness my father and I had before I hit thirteen. We talked bikes, new places, post-undergrad academia, Mom's stress level, and classical music. Then we listened to the radio.

I remember looking up to see a billboard for "Princeton BMW" and thinking, that's a place I've never seen before. Or the Newark airport from the outside. There's a really beautiful bridge around there, too.


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