Travels
Queen of Trades; Travel and Photography

I write poems and stories as well. I want to share some with you every now and then. This was one of my spur of the moment poems and I honestly wansn't sure where I was gong with it. It makes it mysterious in a way that I love in all good writings and I think this is open to the imagination. What do you think?

And She Falls

 

She's tired of thinking till the sun comes up, her body aches when she’s awake, yet she tries, tries, and tries, the addiction to lose still strong, She walks with a little fire in her eyes, trying, trying, trying to understand where she turned wrong, oh but how her body aches, It hurts, moving hurts, thinking hurts, staying still hurts, 

Slowly that walk moves into a fast pace walk, then a slow jog, then a sprint, to a full blown run, the world is a blur, a blur that goes by so fast she won’t remember it when she finally lays down to sleep, 

She runs until her lungs are hurting her chest, her heart pounding, her eyes blurring, her head throbbing, 

She runs until it gets dark, too dark to see anything but the stars,

Slowing down she feels her body filling with pain, exhaustion, and a numbness, there she stands blinking and staring ahead of her, hoping, waiting for something, her body shakes as she stares, recovers, and thinks, 

Finally looking around she sees the water ahead of her, the sun rising, the ocean still, she stares and finally sees it, sees the answer, the answer is there, the answer is just a leap away, So she walks, walks to the waters edge, 

and she falls.

 

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Every Year when we go up to Mackinaw Island we make sure to stay at a campground in Mackinac City. We go to the same one and we always love it. There are a ton of bugs but not too man bite. The weather is incredible and something to be recognized. The people are nice and seem to enjoy what time they have to chat with those of us who visit. Lastly, it’s just so calming. They have just enough to do in the area that you’re not worried about what to do for a few days. If getting drunk for the day is your plan then you can do that in a safe environment with a wonderful view of the water. When you go into town there are a few little shops that you can explore. They have a tiny plaza that has a movie theater, several fudge locations, haunted house, music, and some places to eat. One of my favorite shops is a weapons shop called Enchanted Knights. They have all forms of items that I enjoy. From sculptures of fairies and gargoyles to t-shirts with graphics on them. There’s also some necklaces with your astrology sign and wands from harry potter world that you can purchase. In the corner of the store though is my favorite section. Weapons. They have swords, knives, Zippos, arrows, Lord of the Rings crafted items, and throwing stars. 

The first time I discovered this little place of wondrously dangerous items I became entranced in the idea of owning swords. So I of course asked the guy about what was real and what was fake. He quickly gave me an answer with a smile and a clear description of everything I wanted to know. He gave demonstrations of certain ways people of the past used to fight with certain weapons that had a history. He told you how to hold the weapon in the correct fashion. He even sounded like a person who just was generally interested and cared about his job. No rather, someone who loved their job. Once we went through an hour of shopping I had made a decision on my first weapon. A sword and I got one that was of course, functional. I’m not going to own a weapon that doesn’t work. For weeks I messed around with it and carried it around when nobody was looking. I enjoyed the feel of it in my hands and I enjoyed showing it to people and educating them on what weaponry looked like when it was real. People were interested and it made a good conversation starter. 

So of course ive continued to go to him for the past three years and this past year I got to buy a little more than normal. We got very deep about functionality for when I travel. I like to be safe in those situations and so with his enthusiasm he lead me in the direction I wanted to go. I really do enjoy being able to see him and have him help me make my collection expand. Ever year he steps it up and surprises me with something I hadn’t seen yet. He always remembers me and treats me like I am a local who isn’t there once a year but all the time. It’s awesome to have someone remember what you like, who you are, and be respectful of you as a human. 

I can’t wait to see what this guy has for me next year. Until then my friend. 

 

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I remember the first time I had driven the car out into town. I had my drivers permit and we were going to pick up my old best friend from her neighborhood which was all the way across town. About a twenty minutes drive from home. With much persistence and patience I had somehow managed to get him to agree to letting me be taught how to drive. Admittedly we had some communication problems and I was unsure if we would ever survive. It was me being to quick with the clutch or not shifting at the right time. Sometimes I stalled out while we're were on the road and I remember all the terror in my mind. I just didn't understand how people did it then. There was so much you had to feel and hear and move just to move a vehicle on wheels. It needed fixing sometimes, gas. And you had to know which was the brake, clutch and the speed racing peddle. I really wanted to go go go in my dreams but on the road it was a different story. 

I remember the time when I had to first learn to drive on their highway. I had never done it before and it was a big vast world when it came to the people and who Lived in it. I was facing death out there, possible crashing, crazies, and homeless people. The worst though, semis. **** this big ass mother****ers trucks. Every time I drive to a new city I get so paranoid I'll be squashed under one and suffocate. It's honestly very nerve wracking. I'm already tiny, I don't need to be any tinier. 

So of course I get behind them wheel, drive forward and manage to get to second gear (forgot to mention that I'm learning to drive a manual car, no easy shortcuts in this family) and make my way to fourth. My dad then tells me faster so I can get to fifth before I merge. Quickly I get nervous. You have to push down and go all the way to the right side and not mess up or you will stall out in the middle of the highway and probably die. With much determination I managed to make it work but the wheel had jumped left and right when I did it from the nerves. 

That day I had thought we were gonna crash and I was gonna kill us both but I needed to learn. That's the thing about life, you have to learn to do new things somehow and sometimes you just have to jump right into it. Maybe you live, maybe not but it is the world and it's dumb luck that gets us sometimes. 

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For most of my life I’ve been told that I’m older then I actually look. When I was fourteen I got told that I looked seventeen. When I was fifteen I got eighteen. So on and so forth. Rally it became one of my good features. To look older then I actually am and it got me into some interesting situations. Mostly just with guys taking an interest but nothing too crazy. For the most part it was just random and it seemed to happen a lot. I just wasn’t interested in those who took a second glance. 

When I turned eighteen though it took a turn. I started coloring my hair more often and I found my own style of clothes. From time to time though I do wear very simplistic things that make me look like I’m a tomboy. From there it can be difficult to tell how old I am. I remember one day specifically. I was in Walmart buying my cell phone card. That day I had decided to go to my local Walmart in flip-flops, shorts that I used for sleeping, a baggy shirt and had my hair in a bun. Wallet in one hand and phone in the other and I waited patiently for my turn. I happened to have dyed my hair blue and I was off for the day. So of course I decided lazy day was in order. I just didn’t want to get dressed up for a trip to freaking Walmart, of all places. I don’t care how I look, I’m here to shop and then go home. No hassle, no extra time spent, just me in my lazy day clothes doing my errand for the day. 

While I’m waiting in line this older man takes a turn in his spot and looks around the store. His eyes land on me and he sits and stares for a solid thirty seconds. Nodding slightly to himself he then turns around and steps a single step forward and stops. There were a few other people in front of him so we both knew it was gonna be a little bit longer. Dismissing that solid thirty second look I go to unlock my phone when he suddenly turns around and smiles slightly. I can see the question in his eyes. "Do your parents allow you to dye your hair?" I stared at him confused by the question. It was random and being an adult it seemed out of place. So of course with the nicest tone of voice I could muster I asked "My hair?" he smiles a little more and I can tell that I’ve made him confused. "Yes, its blue. Do your parents allow that?". I almost took a look around me right then and there to see if this guy was really talking to me. Like what is happening at this moment? He takes a breath in and then asks "Aren’t you twelve? You look Twelve?" There was a solid minute of shock the second that sentence came out of his mouth. I looked twelve? 

This poor old guy was so lost by my reaction that he nervously laughs and leans towards me with his arms behind his back and a look of concern on his face, "My grand-kids dye their hair and there twelve and thirteen.....How old are you?". I almost bust out laughing at this. Like I was really in this moment. I laugh nervously and answer back "No, I’m eighteen". The shock on his face was surreal. If he looked harder at me it was obvious that I had tattoos and piercings that a twelve year old should not have. Not only that but, I had car keys in my hand and a credit card. I earned the right to have both of those and one is the power to go where I want, when I want and a card with my hard earned money on it so I can spend it at my own leisure. No twelve year old will have that unless if it’s under rich or rare circumstances. The old man shakes his head at me and says "I am so sorry" and turns around and proceeds to head up to the counter laughing nervously the whole way. Me? I’m just trying to shake it off and take it as a compliment because hey, maybe I will look twenty five at seventy. Good luck to me I guess. 

In honesty though I do feel like this happens a lot and maybe it’s a sign our genetics are getting better and that there are things that work to keep up looking youthful out there in the world. Maybe its luck? Who knows. All I know is that it happened and its ok. Sometimes I look twelve, sometimes I look twenty five. Luck of the draw on certain days. 

 

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I’ve talked a little bit about another person called Sarah on my blog before. I thought I’d share one of our little adventures that we did. My neighborhood has a nice park in the center. You can take little dirt paths from different areas on the road and when you went down them they happened to have houses that would be on the other side of a fence until you got a bit into the forest and then it would form a big field where a soccer goal sits as well as an area with a baseball cage. It’s pretty nice, you can walk your dog’s there, go for a nice soccer game, or take that section to get to someone’s house faster. IT really is a handy tool to have for a neighborhood with so many side roads. Plus it gives some shade. 

Well one night when Sarah and I were having a sleepover we decided to go out on a new moon. There as this old oak tree in the woods that I liked to climb and a few of the neighborhood kids and I had climbed the trees before and had carved our names into the trunks. So I wanted to show Sarah. Trouble was, we didn’t want to be seen so we set up a plan. We decided to wait till Midnight, take the bikes, have no flashlights and go out for only half an hour, and then return back. We didn’t want to make too much noise so we had made sure to include the back door in the garage in the plan. For most of the night we played guitar hero and waited until my dad went to sleep. We decided that if he chooses to check up on us to make a sign so that he would maybe not open the door. Of course, I’m sure he knew we sneaked out but if not...well he’s hearing about it now (sorry dad)

When midnight rolled around we packed a bag, got into nice warm jackets (it was in the middle of winter here) and went on our way to the garage where we quietly got the bikes, opened the back door and kept it open by a crack so that we could get back in easily. With much determination and our hearts beating a thousand miles a minute we set off to the road and made our way to the nearest entrance to the forest area. Sarah was feeling the adrenaline wearing off and was worried about being seen so we made way to the side of the road and didn’t say anything to one another. Once we got on the pathway though we may have gotten a little louder than normal. We were excited and we didn’t know what it would be like to climb such a tall tree at night. So off we went into the night. 

Of course once we got to the first limb we quieted down and swung up on the lowest branch. Using all our strength we propelled ourselves up and made a steady pace towards the top of the tree. Honestly it was quite fun and we both were feeling a rush of adrenaline. After all we weren’t supposed to be out and it was late. Once we got where we wanted to be we settled on the branches and started chatting. Talking about silly things and singing a little. There was a solid ten minutes until someone heard us. The branch we happened to be on was over the fence between the park and his backyard and he could see us. We tried so hard to get out of his view and sneak down but the trunk wasn’t wide enough and we were standing out with our choices of clothing. He started yelling and screaming for us to get down or he was calling the police and within minutes we were scrambling and trying not to get caught by him. Sarah was freaking out a little bit and was slipping on the branches. Luckily she got on the ground and once I met her we took off. The guy was held back by the fence so we didn’t waste time getting out of there. We were not going to get stopped and in trouble

That night we raced home and once we were inside we locked all the doors and let out a laugh. We had escaped the inevitable and for some reason we did well. It was insane and we could have died if one of us slipped but, we did it and were both still alive today. 

 

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