Get Lost? Gladly.

So, I was driving up to my Grandma’s house yesterday, GPS suction cupped to the dashboard, chirping directions at me in an English Australian accent (at least I think that’s what I selected for the accent…Does that combination even exist in real life?). You would think that the drive would be a straight shot, no chance of getting lost. But, you should know something about me. I am notorious for getting lost, hence the GPS. My dad gave me the GPS this past Christmas. Initially, I think that my friends were more excited about it than I was because it meant that I would no longer be constantly asking and re-asking them for directions, getting lost, calling them for help, and needing to leave places ridiculously early to ensure that I would arrive at my destinations on time. Here’s an example of what I subject myself and my friends to:

Me, talking to a friend: I think I’ll probably leave around 10 tomorrow morning.
My friend: Oh, ok. What time does your train leave?
Me: Around 2:00pm.
Friend: Sam! Union Station takes two hours max. to get to.
Me: Oh really? Well I suppose, ideally, yes. But with me, you never know…And I really need to be there on time, otherwise I’m not going home…I’m just going to leave early to make sure. Better safe than sorry, right? *big grin*
Friend: *cross between a chuckle and a pained expression*

With the above story, please keep in mind that both I and Union Station were located in Chicago at the time of the conversation. Anyways though…point being, I have a penchant for getting lost, and I was given a GPS in an attempt to remedy this. However, miraculously, I am still able to pull off getting lost rather frequently. And honestly, I’m secretly very happy about this. Or maybe not so secretly since I am writing about it in a public forum.

I love getting lost because it means I get to go on adventures and see and experience things I never would otherwise. Here are some of the adventures I’ve had:

-When I drive anywhere near the Minneapolis or St. Paul area, I usually get lost and end up near Sex World. What a refined place that sounds like, huh? I never want to be near here, but it just seems like there’s some sick whirlpool that causes my car to keep turning and driving towards it. The owners must have purchased a gravitational pull device and placed it in the center of the store. I don’t like ending up here because I like the place itself, but rather, I like ending up here because the whole experience is very comical because it’s a place that is so not my thing. It also makes for a great story! “So, I started out trying to get home from this wedding. Then I ran into this road that was closed. I tried to take the detour, but ended up by Sex World.” *people shaking their heads and laughing*

-I’ve also ended up along frat row at the University of Minnesota. Kegger!! Woo!!! Not, that’s not really my scene either. But, I’m still very interested in observing it when I drive past it (see previous posts about being a wallflower).

-I rarely, if ever, end up going the same way twice to my grandmother’s house, even though I’ve driven there countless times. On one of my particularly favorite trips, I ended up driving past this beautiful light store. It was really dark outside, but the store was all a glow, and it looked like some giant glass treasure chest holding hundreds of burning, twinkling stars. On another time, I got really lost and had to stop and ask for directions. I ended up walking into a saddle shop. Unfortunately, I walked into what was probably the only store that had a cashier who was new to the area. She was, in fact, new to the state. The upswing of this was that she was very nice to me and let me get on the computer and use MapQuest (my GPS of those days). See, usually when I get lost and ask people for directions, they say things like “You’re going to want to go north on 2. Then 2 will bring you to 5. Well, you’re going to take a left onto 5, which will bring you to 10 in no time, and then I’m sure you know how to get to the main road 25 from there, which you probably already know brings you into the town that you want.” Of course, I never, ever know any of what they are referring to. I furrow my eye brows and narrow my eyes, or maybe my eyes just glaze over. I sometimes try to nod my head along so they don’t think I’m being rude and not paying any attention to them. It’s not that I’m not trying, it’s just that as soon as they start talking that way, with all the norths and souths and numbers of roads and all the lefts and rights to turn, I just can’t keep track of it all. In addition to this, I don’t even know how to tell if you’re turning north or south or east or west onto a road. I must have fallen asleep during the chapter in the life lessons book called “Directions.” Ah, oh well. Point of this story being that usually, with directions, I’m utterly confused. This time I wasn’t though. MapQuest’s turn right in 13.1 miles, turn left in 5.2 miles that the cashier helped me obtain, I can handle that. That is the kind of direction language that I speak. Bless that kind, kind lady.

-On this last trip up to the farm, I was not MapQuesting, but GPSing, and, as I mentioned earlier, still managed to get a bit lost. Most of the roads bringing me to the farm are paved. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever driven on an unpaved road unless there was construction or I was the one driving (and people usually don’t know how I discover these anomalous roads) . This last time, I ended up on a really narrow, rocky dirt road. The scenery was stunning though. I slowed my car way down, and ogled out the sides of my windows. Beams of sunlight (literally, beams) came through spaces in between tree’s leaves. There were cows and forests and blue skies with fluffy white clouds and golden sunlight and prairies and fields of rustling corn and quaint farm buildings (etc.). There’s a lot of scenery up that way that’s like this, but for this stretch of road, it was even more intense. It was like beauty squared.

So, while the GPS has definitely taken stress off of me and those who care about me being able to get to the places I need to, and while I do enjoy it quite a bit, I’m glad that it doesn’t do its job too too well. Or, maybe I should be proud that I am just that good at getting lost that not even a GPS can stop me from doing it. Either way, I’m glad I still manage to get lost. Because if I always just got where I was going on the first attempt, or in the most direct way, or in the same way I usually take, what fun would that be? And I know that people tend to fret a bit over me being so directionally challenged. But they shouldn’t, because I do it gladly. It is, after all, the perfect avenue for adventure.