A Real Weekend Escape

Gas is expensive. And it takes quite a bit of gas to drive to Kentucky. That was unfortunate. However, for a weekend, it was worth it.

I stress myself out. All the time, I sit at my apartment, in class, at home-home, at a coffee-shop, in the quad, in the shower (oh my god, in the shower), while walking around, while sitting around, anywhere really, I freak myself out. I worry. About what? About the immediate future, about the distant future, about the moments ahead, about the moments farther ahead. My biggest fear (beyond insects of all shapes and sizes) is the indistinct, looming monster of the future. Well, in the past months, these fears have grabbed a hold of me, specifically in the form of upcoming exams and hectic work schedules. No matter what I am doing, I am still, at least partially, worrying.

Well, for the weekend, after finishing a Spanish exam, I drove down to Kentucky. Four hours, behind the wheel, listening to anything that came on the radio (which shamelessly included Enrique Iglesias' "Hero," which, although meant to be ironic, was sung quite loudly by all passengers in the car). I saw a friend that I had not seen for over a year, and I went to a town that I honestly did not think I would ever see again. After investing a sizable amount in gasoline, however, I spent very little extra money.

The irony of the entire trip was that I did exactly what I do every weekend I go home. I sat around, I drank no alcohol, I watched plenty of television, I stayed up late talking with friends, I saw a movie (try to guess which HUGE BLOCKBUSTER OSCAR-BUZZ MOVIE I'm talking about!) but it was a vacation.

At first, I assumed it felt so much like a vacation because I was gone, away, in a different place. But then I thought about it, I spent all my time in either Allison's actual apartment, in the halogenated barn that is a Wal-Mart, or in a relative's living room parked infront of a television. These weren't vacation locales, and yet, somehow, I felt more far away from my worries than I have been ever before.

I realized it, when we were driving around during Saturday, what it was. Allison, describing her family, mentioned her grandfather's motto, and although I am TERRIBLE at quoting things, I do remember this: "Everyday is a holiday." I realized at that moment, that Allison wasn't just a friend, she was a tour guide, leading us not to the lame traditional tourist places, but instead teaching us all about the inner heart of a culture. Just as any tour guide, she taught us the history (of her and her family) and she also lead us into a new place. Being with a local we were introduced to the real lifestyle of Kentucky, a very different lifestyle, a lifestyle that saw every day not as a chore, but as a celebration.

That is the lifestyle of Louisville, or at least that of the people we met there. Everyday is a holiday, and if we don't celebrate it, well, then its not much fun is it? We did nothing special, and yet, somehow, I have never felt more free. All those worries, all those fears? Gone. Now, these people, like anyone really, have worries. Allison, even I will admit, has more legitimate worries than I do, and yet, somehow, its not scribbled all over her face. Instead, she is smiling. Reality is there, its definitely not all ice cream and rainbows, but instead of focusing on the harder terms of life, they embrace the moments of joy and freedom. Why? Because she lives life by a very different motto, one that actually keeps her....wait for it....HAPPY!