Life Is But A Dream - Part One

Day one of two in Minneapolis.

We woke late yesterday morning. A comfortable bed will do that. I was able to talk Brandon into going to get food from the continental breakfast and he came back with a tray piled high with pastries, waffles, juice and cereal. Unfortunately, even though the food was free, neither of us were actually hungry. We moved slowly getting ready for the day. When check-out time came at 11:30am all I wanted to do was go back to sleep (which I did in the car…).

We had only been a few miles from the Minnesota border and the drive to Minneapolis was our shortest yet, three hours. We arrived in Minneapolis at 4pm. First stop? Mall of America (MOA). Holy shit, that place is the size of Milwaukie. We went on several of the rides in the Nickelodeon Universe park in the center of the mall and a few of them were definitely up to par with Disneyland. Log Ride? Yep. Four roller coasters? Only at MOA. We walked around the mall a bit and we found several things we wanted to buy but restrained. 

We left MOA after 7pm and sat by the trunk of the car in the parking garage eating PB&J sandwiches. After this trip is over I am so done with PB&J. We decided to explore downtown Minneapolis. We discovered the Walker Center and Sculpture Garden – so very neat. Afterwards we headed into downtown to try and find a café we could mooch wifi from. It took longer than expected to find a parking place on a Tuesday night and we drove for a while in circles, just hoping. We finally spotted one and quickly took it. We sat in the car for a moment, the rain tapping the windows. It was cold and I really didn’t want to get out of the car. I looked up and saw a bar. “I bet its warm in there. Lets go there,” I said.

“It’s a bar.”

“Yes, it is a bar.”

“What will we do if they card us?”

“We’ll figure that out if it happens.” Really, I had no idea what we’d do.

We walked inside and found a spot towards the back, away from the open doors. Our waitress walked up with a smile and got us water. “Hey, so do you have your ID’s on you?” she asked.

“Uhm, no. I don’t. Brandon, do you?”

“Uhm, me either.”

She looked like she knew and I was prepared to grab my things. “Well, do you promise you’re 21?”

“Pinky promise.”

“O.K., you can stay, but can’t drink.”

She knew, I was sure, but she was kind and let us stay in from the cold. She brought us fries and I asked her about where we should check out in Minneapolis.

“Well, It’s a Tuesday. Not much going on.” But she went on to tell us about some neat neighborhoods we could see. When she came back with our check she said, “I’m totally not trying to creep you out or anything, but I know the best way to experience a city is with a local. I wrote my number on your receipt. You don’t have to call, but it’d be cool.”

She left and I looked at the receipt. And into our lives came Laura.

“You know we’ll have to tell her we’re only 20, right?” Brandon said once we’d gotten back in the car.

“I suppose you’re right.” I pulled out my phone and her number and texted her.

‘Hey Laura, this is Mary from Portlandia. I guess we have to tell you that we’re only 20. Sorry for lying! If you’re going out to where that’s not a big deal, we’d like to tag along. But thanks for inviting us.’

She replied some time later with, ‘I knew it ha. You guys suck. I’m sorry, I can’t help you. Have a great trip though’

We both figured, well, that’s that. We found a parking lot on the East side, we mooched some wifi and we were settling down for a long night when a couple hours later Laura texted again. ‘Did you guys find a place to sleep?’

‘Well, we’re in a parking lot. We might find a new one though.’

‘Do you guys want to crash on my futon?’

Yes please!

We ended up at Laura’s around 1am. This is when we met Jacob, a free spirit from Madison, Wisconsin who she has also taken in.  “You guys wanna have a pow wow?” So there we were, all sitting in a circle on Laura’s floor, drinking beer and wine and listening to old records, talking about things that actually mattered. It seemed they did, anyways. We learned of Laura’s travels through Asia and of her experiences in Portland. Jacob, who is part of a band, told us about his adventures through America. Brandon named her piggy bank Gregory. Several hours and glasses later, Brandon and I decided to hit the futon. 

Before falling asleep Brandon looked at me and said, “What are the odds? That we happened to find that one parking spot right outside the bar? That you had the sudden and unrealistic urge to just sit in the bar? That she’d be our waitress, and that she’d be a traveler herself? What are the odds?”

What are the odds? 

Enjoy every minute,

Mary & Brandon

 <--Lego Land, MOA style.

 (Above) The aquarium below the mall. Fact: It would take eight-six hours to go through the mall in its entirety - only spending ten minutes in each store.

 (Above) Cherry on a spoon anyone?

(Above) The bar that started everything.

"Put a Bird On It"

Yesterday I woke up and for the first time in my life thought, “where the hell am I?” I sat the seat of the car up and looked around. There was a baseball field, three very old trucks and a whole lot of nothing.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“I don’t remember the name. I just pulled off the highway. Broadus, maybe.”

The window was cracked and we could hear the thousands of crickets in the tall grass (no exaggeration. The crickets will inherit the earth.) “I’ve been thinking…” Brandon said.

“Yeah?”

“About showering. I need to shower. There’s a camp ground nearby.”

We found the coin-op showers and took $.75 showers. Not bad, really. 

“Mary, before you go in there, I think I should warn you that it’s not the cleanest looking place.”

“How gross?”

“They look just as old as the town.”

Fresh smelling and in high spirits, we hit the road.

Fun facts:

-The mountain range through Montana is incredibly beautiful.

-Rapid City, MT has the best radio stations.

-Montana has a ridiculous number of license plate designs.

-There are no signs on the highway to give you a heads up that you’ve entered a new time zone.

-Interstates are 75mph everywhere else. Oregonians are wussy drivers.

-Brandon used the first band-aid.

-what the hell is Taco Johns? Because they are everywhere!

We got to Mount Rushmore around 1pm. It was a grand site. Smaller than I thought, which seems silly for saying because their faces are 60’ tall. Those are large faces. Even still, I just expected them to be bigger. The town below Rushmore was so adorable. The little shops and cafes were very old fashioned and if it hadn’t been raining and freezing, I would have liked to spend more time there.

I’d always wanted to go into a cave so we drove to the Rushmore cave. It was found in the 1800’s by a couple of minors and they’ve been expanding and discovering new rooms and tunnels since. In one part of the cave, known as the wedding chapel (yes, they really do have weddings down there) the minors found a large “chimney” in the ceiling and hung a rope to try and climb from the cave. When they got to the top, they were surprised to find the opening to the earth was just about the size of your fist. They climbed back down and found another way out but the rope remains hanging. Since they’ve began having weddings down there, the rope has gained the name of, “the grooms last chance.”

We left Keystone, South Dakota and set on towards Minneapolis. We saw advertisements for a place called Wall Drug “as soon on CMT”. They had a sign every half-mile for SO many miles. Of course we had to check it out. It was the biggest, strangest store. There were rooms upon rooms of merchandise. And I can’t forget to mention the $.05 cup of coffee. There was an art gallery for western art, a “backyard” and a restaurant. All of the stores around Wall Drug were definitely profiting from the tourism being brought in. Main street had the look of a strange western tourist town, whereas the rest of the town seemed in despair. I think Wall Drug was Wall’s last desperate act to save itself.

 The GPS said we would arrive around 2:30-3am. That was our goal. However, while messing with the GPS we discovered there to be a town 6 miles from the Minnesota border called Brandon. Brandon, South Dakota. How could we not stop? We found a motel room for the night at a Comfort Inn off the highway. When we were checking in the guy behind the counter smiled the guy asked, “Hey, do you guys watch Portlandia?”

“Yes! We love it!”

“Yeah, that show is rad.”

It’s awesome to know even people in South Dakota watch and love Portlandia.

We entered our room, 101, to find the most amazing of sites. Right there, across from the mini-fridge beside the bed was a huge Jacuzzi. Just placed there as if it were the most normal thing to have in a motel room in Brandon, South Dakota.

“It’s totally time to party.”

Of course, we spent most of the time sitting on the edge of the Jacuzzi because the water was way too uncomfortably hot. That’s not the point, though. The point is, there was a Jacuzzi in our cheap motel room and life is awesome.

Enjoy every minute,

Mary

P.S. Can you say “Nutter butter bloody burp” three times fast?

Keep Missoula Weird

August 29, 2011

We rolled into Kellog, Idaho around 2am yesterday. I’d been going in and out of sleep for some time when we decided to call it a day. Spending money on a motel or KOA seemed worthless, so we’d just sleep in the car.  As it was so late, or early, we couldn’t see much of anything in the darkness so we found an apartment complex and settled into our seats. Brandon with his elephant pillow pet and I with my Harry Potter quilt, it didn’t take long until we were oblivious to the world.

We woke around 7:30am and despite it only having been a night’s sleep of five hours, it seemed enough for us. We were ready to get to our original first destination, Missoula, MT. We sat up in our seats and, what do ya know? We were completely encircled by rolling hills and mountains, of sorts. It was beautiful, and a nice view for fresh eyes. Driving through town, in search of a gas station and mini-mart, we discovered a ski lift that cut right through town and a large ski and athletic center. I’d never seen anything like it. I’m sure if I knew how to ski or snowboard, I would have been home. After changing and Brandon showering in the gas station bathroom sink, we got back on the highway, a few hours from Missoula.

We entered Missoula in a new time zone at 11:30am and found their downtown area with little difficulty after taking the wrong exit. We found a delightful park to eat breakfast in (pictured) and then we went through to their Sunday Farmers Market, which also turned out to be the morning set-up of a special fair of theirs. Live music from several stages filled the streets and we wondered for hours. We checked out tiny shops, parks and got lost a time or two. It was a wonderful town and I was in love instantly. I didn’t want to leave. We drove through the University of Montana’s campus and I could imagine myself walking through on my way to class. I have it bad for Missoula. We also checked out a store that was suggested by a few of the locals called Rockin’ Rudys. If I didn’t have a reason to love Missoula before, I did now. It was massive, impressive and filled with amazing, bizarre things. Brandon bought quite a few stickers for his cargo box on his car (my favorite being “Mis[soul]a”) and I bought another shot glass for my growing collection.

We left Missoula sooner than I’d wanted to. Of course, as I said before, I never wanted to leave so I guess it had to come some time. Our next destination: Mount Rushmore. We drove for hours. Many, many hours. Montana, why do you have to be so huge? It felt we were never going to get out of Montana. It was a beautiful state, but we were ready for a change of scenery (as if Wyoming would be any different?). We saw the sign for the Little Big Horn battle and remembered we’d wanted to stop there. The only problem? It was way too early to stop and sleep. It might surprise you, but you have to actually be pretty tired to sleep in the car willingly and peacefully. So, 11pm was like 8pm. We sat in the car for a long while in a parking lot next to an old folks home in a town that I don’t think of us even bothered to remember the name of. We had the windows down until I said something along the lines of, “Brandon, if we have the windows down someone can just reach in and stab our eyes out.” I don’t know, something like that. The windows went up and then the heat rose. It was unbearable. 

“On a scale of 1-10 of tiredness, I’m a two,” I said.

“I’m a three,” he said.

So there it was. He started the car and we were off again. We’d decided to drive the remaining 15 miles to Little Big Horn. Maybe drive up to it, check it out, see if it was worth the $25 entry fee. Alas, we couldn’t reach it. We ended up driving around the town, if you could really call it that. A casino, police station, gas station and community center/community college that looked like a rest stop restroom building could hardly be called a town. We sat in the parking lot of the college (thing) until 1:09am, when we looked up pictures of LBH and called it good. We weren’t tired, we weren’t sleeping in a town infested with crickets and several dogs wondering the streets. And, by the way, a police station equipped like one in Portland. For a town smaller than Tygh Valley? No thanks, we’d pass. (Never heard of Tygh Valley? That just helps my point.)

So, we hit the road again. My Chemical Romance (the Black Parade) being the music of choice. And guess what? By 1:20am I was falling asleep.

Enjoy every minute,

Mary.

 

 In Kellog

 Where we decided to have lunch -->

 <--- Where I wrote yesterdays blog.

 This is in Missoula. They have prints all over but the only prints side by side are those of the human and the dog.

 We totally cheated and took this when we entered Wyoming. We just turned around and took a picture of that.

 Karen (Our Australian GPS guide) took us here when trying to get us back on the main road. Oh yeah, lets just go through that tunnel. .... Which, I got out of the car and did, by the way. Brandon watched as I sunk into about five inches of mud and then as I was outside of the car cleaning my feet, two dogs started charging the car, howling and barking.
Fuckin' Karen.

Gone. Poof.

August 27, 2011

Part One.

We left Portland last night. I should be writing, “we left Portland yesterday afternoon” but alas! Not many will be surprised that Mary made a blunder, yeah? You see, this is how it happened. Friday night Brandon and I switched cars so while he was working yesterday, I could prep the car. I was doing well too. The bags were in, the cooler was filled, and I was at Fred Meyer doing some last minute things for the trip. It was 1:51pm – nine minutes before we were set to leave.

Upon reaching the car I went digging through my purse for the keys. His keys. His keys to his car. The car we were taking. And they weren’t there. Gone. Poof. I checked every pocket of my purse, my shorts, one, two, three times. I hadn’t eaten all day but I was certain if there was anything in there, it would have ended up all over the pavement. I rushed back inside to retrace my steps, fairly certain I’d left the sitting on top of the ATM inside on the other side of the store. The whole run there I was repeating “there are more good people in the world than bad people. There are more good than bad.” 

Right?

They weren’t there. Not on top. Not beside. Not behind. Gone. Poof. Then the panic set in. My dad happened to be at the Starbucks in the same parking lot and what do I want when I’m in a panic? My dad.  So, with my dad in tow, we retraced my steps again. And nothing. The customer service desk hadn’t seen any keys, the self-check hadn’t. The bag boys, the cart boys, the deli, random people walking in and out. Gone. Poof. Brandon had to be called. In tears, I dialed. Strangely, the thing I was most worried about was his reaction being “God Damn it, Mary.” A term that can make me cry no matter, and as I was already blubbering I figured I could very well end up in the fetal position on the floor if he said it. Pathetic.

“Brandon. Do you have an extra set of keys.”

“Uhm. No. Oh my God. Really?”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Seriously Mary? Jeez.” (Hey, it was better than the term)

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t cry. It’s all right. I’ll call AAA. Be there in a second.”

“O.K.”

The wait seemed long for AAA Man. Brandon arrived and my dad left. We went back inside in search of the elusive keys. Then we hear, “Excuse me! Excuse me!” We turned to see a little girl running towards us. “Did you own that tiny white car outside?” (my car)

“Yes, why?”

“Here’s your keys.” And for a second I thought she’d hand Brandon’s keys over. But Brandon held out his hands and she dropped my car keys in his palm. Through my tears, I laughed. “They were sitting on top of your car.”

When AAA Man arrived it took a matter of seconds for him to open the car. I hoped that somehow they’d been left in the trunk. He popped the trunk and I waited a second before opening it. 3-2-1.  Open. Nothing. Then I heard what I was worried about. “It’ll be $225 for a new key.” Insides turning, I went back inside. I was going to find these keys. I asked more people, had them make an announcement. My dad had returned and texted me that AAA Man couldn’t wait forever, that they were making the key, and that he was paying for it.

Two hours later we were sitting in the back of my dads truck when AAA Man finally said “Done!” It was 5:30.  “AAA covered $100 of the cost,” he said. Delightful! My dad handed his card over, and the man handed the keys (we got two) over. Thank you dad!

We left Milwaukie at 6:00pm. Four hours later than our original time. We drove for eight hours before finally stopping in a small town in Idaho to sleep.  Had we left at 2:00pm, we would have already made it to Missoula.

God Damn it,

Mary.

 Called for back-up.

Mary Roney, your delinquent account is being prepared for collections.

I have to decide between having enough money for the roadtrip or school. This scares the hell out of myself, my family and my parents because I’ll choose traveling over anything. 

Fuck school, fuck money, fuck mono and fuck doing what everyone thinks I should be doing. All I want is to travel. I don’t want to take another creative writing class so I can read other apathetic, uninspired peoples work that sucks. I don’t want to take Math so I can stare blankly at the board while everyone else seems to know what the hell is going on. I don’t want to drive home in the pouring Portland rain and wonder what else is out there.

What I do want. I want miles. I want to claim the minutes, the seconds of my life. I want to see the worlds biggest ball of yarn. I want to put my feet in the Atlantic. I want to watch the sunset in Santorini, and I want to see the Northern Lights in the Netherlands. I want to get high as fuck in Amsterdam. I want to sit in the “classy” McDonalds in Germany and drink wine. I want to learn to surf in Hawaii and I want to eat at Cafe Gratitude in SoCal. I want to ride a donkey to the bottom of the Grand Canyon and I want to kayak the Colorado river. I want to go spelunking in Mexico and I want to scuba dive in the Great Barrier Reef. 

You can’t tell me I wouldn’t get an education from this - because I would learn more out there than I ever would inside a windowless classroom. The only difference is I wont get a piece of paper saying I have a degree.

I know what I want. I just don’t know how to get it.

/rant

Best,

Mary

Calling all people with ears.

Two weeks before we leave and it feels like the days are just crawling on.

I spent the weekend at my moms out in Tygh Valley, Oregon. It's O.K. if you've never heard of it, not many people have. On my drive home (about two hours) I found myself obsessing over the music we'd play on the trip. As I've been assigned the duty of playlist master, the music choices are entirely up to me....with a few check-ins with the others. Example:

Me: You DO like Jason Mraz, right?
Brandon: Yeah!
Me: Oh, good. I was working on the playlist and I was like, oh shit, every Jason song is on here.

Heres to hoping Alexandra still likes Mr. A-Z.

It seems a strange goal, but I've always aspired to being a "master mixer". When I was in eighth grade I visited Aberdeen, Washington, the hometown of Kurt Cobain - I was going through a bit of a phase. I met a man, known to locals as "music master", or something. I can't remember. Anyway, he'd had several thousand albums and he was known for it and for making the best music mixes for every occasion. I remember thinking, that'd be pretty rad. I'm a shitty musician, so this is the next best thing, right? Except maybe being a roadie. At least roadies get paid. Maybe not in dollars. Beer, maybe. Being a roadie for a new band would definitely get beer instead of money.

But I digress.

This is my chance to make the most epic mixes for the trip. The songs we'll remember this month by. As such, I'm obsessing. I'm writing down songs I hear on the radio or making note of those posted on my other blog site. I'm making playlist after playlist on my ipod and downloading countless songs.

 I've always believed music to be desperately important to the major moments in our lives. Songs are time machines. I listen to "Hold On" by Good Charlotte and I'm transported back to middle school. "I'm Not O.K." by My Chemical Romance takes me to my early high school years. "Make it Mine" by Jason Mraz brings me to the happiest time of my life, and "As Much As I Ever Could" by City and Colour can still break my heart like it was broken last year. My point is (yes, I do have a point), do you have any suggestions for songs? There's a whole world out there of songs I've never heard and would probably never find on my own. Do you know these songs?

Maybe this post was useless. It is 1:00am, after all. A long time ago I told myself never to post or send anything after 11:00pm. After 11, my brain starts shutting down and I ramble (no shit) and nothing good ever comes out of me. But alas! Here I am, at 1:04am. So I'll wrap it up.

Music is so important to our lives. It helps us to remember not only what happened, but how we felt.

-Mary

http://youtu.be/c_TgoMm4q3E

Ryan Adams -  To Be Young