I goofed off in Ohio all weekend, starting in Ashland to visit Nikki and ending up as far south as Columbus, where I probably ran a couple of red lights while straining to re-visit the intersection of High and State where the State House and the Ohio Theatre are planted. I didn't even get out of the car in C-bus, mostly because I didn't want to deal with parking, but at any rate I simply wished to reminisce. Check check check.
But even before I made it to Ashland, and after trying to figure out the toll system on the Ohio Turnpike while laughing hysterically at my jar-lid of quarters and my own ignorance of tollways, I made friends with the tollbooth lady and promised to come back and see her someday. Then it was nearly sunset, and as I navigated the winding backroads of the Ohio countryside, I could barely keep my eyes on the road. Because Ohio is ripening in to autumn a few weeks before Michigan, and at sunset, everything was absolutely on fire. The trees and fields were so radiant that it was unbelievable, and I can't tell you how much this alone fed my soul. Sounds awfully poetic and simple, but I've realized lately that I am noticing the little things more, and concurrently realizing that those little things mean more to me.
Back at Ohio Wesleyan, I existed as an incognito, undercover Bishop for a while as Pam and I did homework at the library. I ate at Smith and slept in an old frat house on a bean bag. It was brilliant. Monday came and I finally experienced OWU with students and it was so alive that I almost didn't recognize it. I never thought I'd be so happy to be back there, and although autumn was coming, it was surprisingly warm there. I almost entertained the thought of just staying, because I'm very well acquainted with the quantum physics professor and all the rest down in the physics dungeon, but I bleed Spartan green too much.
While killing time in greater Columbus on Monday, I wandered around Polaris for a couple of hours and decided that Saks Fifth Avenue is and forever will be absolutely out of my price range. Also: I will always love Williams&Sonoma, though paying $36 for a muffin tin goes against my personal moral and frugal code. Either way, I thought about the fact that my 20th birthday is in a couple of weeks, but I feel as if I'm really turning 30 because of how all of the home furnishing and cookware stores have such a magnetic pull toward me.
Seriously. I live in a cube that is just big enough for me, but I can't wait until I have a home to decorate. There will be cupcakes in the kitchen and candles absolutely everywhere. It will be the joyful little suburbia that, actually, I've never really wanted before. But here's the thing: my entire life changed eleven weeks ago. My whole life changed. I love what I'm doing with a passion that was hard to find before. Even my seven year battle with the institution of marriage has begun to dissolve a bit. And I am absolutely fine with that. Absolutely.
I will never forget how depression felt, but I will never feel that way again. Instead, I think that I will live my life to the best of my ability. To the best of my intelligence. To the best of my radiance. To the best of my energy. To the best.
That will be all for today, because to turn a phrase, nuclear physics waits for no woman. Until next time, then.