When Thank You Makes You Hurl

I’m getting nervous.  I’ll admit it.  It’s going to be the first time I’ve been overseas since I was a teenager and then I went with my parents and went to a country where I spoke the language and had relatives who we were visiting.  But this is the real shit.

Before I got married, all those years ago, this man I would come to unknow and I agreed that we would not have children.  We agreed that we would travel and see the world together.  But things changed when we got married.  Apparently travel meant, going to Vegas over and over again and him gambling while I sat by the pool and read and got an ulcer over the money he was spending while I was the only one working.  I was the one who needed a vacation; but, vacation for me was not without stress.

To be fair, everytime we went to Vegas we did do something that I got to choose.  We took a helicopter ride to the Grand Canyon.  We took a bus trip into the desert and I got to walk the Salt Flats in Death Valley.  I saw Spamalot and Blue Man Group and every Cirque du Soliel show out there.  It wasn’t without fun.  But sometimes what I remember is being ignored to the point of drinking Cuervo alone until I passed out; being literally sick when I found out there was a cash withdrawal made on a credit card of a significant amount of money—I didn’t know they let you get that much at once—and being yelled at for wanting some passion on my vacation and being told there was something wrong with me for wanting it.  And I remember being ashamed of my life and feeling trapped.  I remember watching a white tiger pacing in a hot glass cage and thinking that I knew exactly what it was feeling.

About a year ago, I finally got all my divorce debt paid off.  When I got divorced, I made a bucket list.  Some people go to therapy, but most of those people don’t have banker genes and $10,000 worth of gambling debt to pay off.  I’ve checked off all those things on the list:  do some home remodeling by myself, get a dog, make friends, don’t be such a loner, do the things you planned to do but couldn’t because someone else pulled the strings of your emotions  (“I have a headache, you go ahead by yourself.”), cook some new stuff, try new things, try things outside of your comfort zone.

The last item on the bucket list was:  travel like you said you were going to before you got married.  It’s been fourteen years since I said that was what I was going to do.  I’ve been writing a story that takes place in Thailand.  I’ve always wanted to see the Far East, I’ve always wanted to see the jungle.  And DAMMIT, I’m going to.  A year ago, I got my passport.  I started doing searches for group trips.  I figured I’d go and find some group of three widows who were looking for a fourth person to save on some expenses.  In some group tour.

But when I told my mortal enemy of my plans—well, I think her first reaction was a horrified “YOU CAN’T GO TO THAILAND BY YOURSELF!!!”  But then she said, “Because I want to go with you.”

And we found a tour to do all the things I wanted to do and see the things she wants to see as well.  She’s up for the adventure.  I am really, really grateful that I get to share this final bucket list check off with Nancy.

Once we were great friends—but then it got complicated and I’m not talking Facebook complicated.  We terminated our friendship and signed the pact of termination in blood.  THANK GOODNESS we both believe in keeping our enemies close.  I also am probably going to have to thank her for the photos she’s going to take.  She’s so much better with a camera than I am.  Oh, and I’m going to have to thank her for her frequent flyer miles that saved me big time money.  And I’m going to have to thank her---I’m starting to feel a little nauseous—I’m going to have to thank her for always being there when I needed someone.

I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not a great friend.  I’m moody.  I whine some.  I need space and alone time, I’m not a real social creature by nature.  I could easily live in a cabin by myself in the middle of nowhere as long as I had food and flushing toilets.  But I would give my last dollar to Nancy or her daughter or her grandson—if they needed it more than me and I know I could get to the bank soon.

I really expect this trip to be life –changing and transforming.  Symbolic of moving on and leaving the past behind.  I’ll blog.  Nancy will take the pictures.  When I win the lottery, we’re going to make a great team when we start doing travel blogs—even though we hate each other.