Stories

Everything has a story.

I don't know why this crossed my mind as I drove to work this morning.

Maybe it was because I was on a little adrenaline rush, having remembered my coffee before I drove out of the driveway (giving me an opportunity to run back inside, kiss the top of the Young Master's noggin one last time, grab my coffee and go) thus avoiding an unfortunate under-caffeination event.

Maybe it was because I had such a wonderful night's sleep, with the Young Master nestled on the bed (instead of wreaking havoc throughout the bedroom) and Boyfriend of Amazingness snuggled in next to me, the cool night air blowing on us through the fan in the bedroom window and the sound of rain pattering on the roof.

Maybe it was because it's hard to have a bad morning after you get a good night's sleep, and this morning didn't fail to deliver. The morning walk was brisk and pleasant. The coffee was flavorful and warm. I even got out the door (almost) on time, so that the hour-long lunch I took today won't leave me having to work extra-late to make up the time.

For any of these reasons - or perhaps even one that didn't cross my mind - the stories were littering my mind this morning.

The one that begs to be told, thought, is The Story of My White Sunglasses.

I'm an East-Coast lady. I grew up here. I went to school here. I met my man here. My home, my family, my love and my life are thoroughly rooted on the East Coast and that's where I spend my time.   So it's notable that I've traveled West only once.
It was with a former male counterpart that I Went Forth. We had both graduated from the local community college with our Associate's degrees. As a gift, his mother and her husband (so noted because he was not Ex's father) took us on a cruise.

In Alaska.

Like you do.**1

The cruise was lovely. After a rough start to our travels**3 , we embarked from Seattle and spent five days exploring the beautiful Alaskan coast and her cities. Ketchikan, Skagway and Juneau boasted adventures so very different from East Coast life.

The cruise ended in Seattle again, where we disembarked mid-morning and spent a day sightseeing before our flight home in the late evening.

We took in the sights on a double-decker bus, stopped at a plethora of little shops, rode to the top of the Space Needle and visited the local aquarium.

It was there that I got my White Sunglasses.

It was sunny and bright for a day in Seattle. "Only 70 days a year you can see Mount Rainier from here," boasted the tour guide on the bus. And indeed we could - she stood majestically on the horizon, clearly visible through the city haze.

Although the shops were lovely and full of beautiful trinkets, it was the aquarium that my travelling companions wanted to spend most of their time in.

(Noteable Note: It was the Space Needle that I most enjoyed. I got a keychain and everything. It was awesome.)

It should be said that I don't really like aquariums. I think sea life is icky, and it exists in a dark world where it's not nearly as glittery, bubbly and sparkly as The Little Mermaid had me believe. Octopi aren't cute, they're like enormous water-spiders. Sharks aren't fascinating, they're terrifying. Even dolphins weird me out. Sure, they're cute from afar... but I don't want to look into a tank and have one look back at me.

All that aside, the Seattle aquarium was one that I quite enjoyed.

It was the coastal wildlife exhibits that fascinated me most: The birds and other fauna that live at waters' edge and live solely on the fish therein.

The puffins in their enclosure nested comfortably, and had me homesick for my Mom, the puffin enthusiast. I had just spent more than a week away from her, and hadn't been able to even chat with her on the phone, much less actually check in and make sure she was okay. My father had passed away less than six months prior, and this was my first trip away since. I wasn't available by phone**4 and I definitely couldn't get home in any short order if she happened to need anything. It bothered me to be so disconnected, and so close to getting home but so far from being there.

So I did what any overwhelmed youngun (for indeed, I had only just turned twenty and was not yet a biological adult) would do:

I got the snuffles.

Not wanting to bring my travelling companions down at the end of a week spent indulging their son and his fiance (me), I hastened to the gift shop and found myself a pair of sunglasses.

Being a tourist shop, they offered only "in" styles. The pair that fit me were movie-star glasses: Large, facially-dominating and framed in white. But they hid my puffy eyes, so they were exactly what the day called for.

And now, they don't fit with  my wardrobe at all.

But I still keep them, and still use them from time to time.

Usually as a hairband...

But sometimes for their intended sun-shielding purpose.

And it's fun to remember their story.

**1 She says, tongue firmly planted in cheek. When I graduated with my Bachelor's degree, my loved ones and I went to Panera Bread. Because that's what I wanted.

My Besticle asked "When are you going to have a graduation party?!"

I didn't want one. I didn't have one. Plainly put, I just don't like people enough to party with them.**2

**2 Okay, no. That's not true. I just don't like having parties that focus on me. "Look over there!" is a more applicable status quo for me.

**3 Ever spent the night in the Baltimore airport with a cranky boyfriend, two crabby parents and a grandmother who doesn't want to make waves but is obviously in excruciating pain and just needs to lay down in a real bed? Don't. Somewhere there are pictures of my plight that night.

**4 A story for another time: How I almost got my mother arrested while I was on vacation...