I posted this story on digg.com: A taco connoisseur hits Highway 1 in California in search of the perfect taco. She has an adventurous stomach, open to trying anything – from cow eyes, pig intestines and other exotic makings for tacos. This story made me so hungry!
Mark and I talked about doing a motorcycle roadtrip down Highway 1. I guess he would do most of the driving, since I don’t know much about motorcycles. Highway 1 is a beautiful drive along the Pacific, but long. Maybe when my contract finishes up next year, we can take another road trip.
Last night, during a fab private dinner party at one of my favorite Topeka cafes, a reporter and I mused about the landlocked nature of Kansas. It makes it difficult to indugle in fish out here simply because we don’t know where it comes from or how long it’s been here.
Now I realize I have a physical need to be near the ocean. When I lived in Evanston, I had a beautiful view of Lake Michigan. But it wasn’t the same. The Lake felt awesome during the summertime but I knew it was surrounded by states and Canada. When I zipped around lake on a Coast Guard ride along, I knew the limits of that body of water…small compared to the Pacific.
When I sat on the beach in Newport and stared at the Pacific – it felt endless, timeless. Despite the stress of wedding planning, being unemployed and life-rocking events, I could stare at the Pacific that always was and always will be. That felt comforting and no matter what was going in my life…I knew the Pacific will be there long after I was gone. When I waded into the waves, I was touching something that was beyond my puny existence and I felt calm.