Practice Makes… Perfect?

If you recall my last road trip, I did this:

I am navigating.

O.U.T.

I am probably the most energetic, liveliest, bubbly passenger you could ask for!

This weekend Mr. Speedy and I are driving all the way into the land of Iowa for a wedding.

From my understanding, this will only take approximately 46.56 days:

I need to buy a plane.

I am going to attempt on this road trip to lead us in the right direction and not get lost.
Mr. Speedy always drives and I always sit beside him, directions in hand, and tell him where to go.
This sounds sweet and simple but unfortunately-
I royally screw up the route every-single-gosh-darn-time.

Let me give you some examples:

• We were once in CA on an errand to pick up a cake from a store. I led us into a mountainous region that was 10+ miles out of town where goats gawked at us and homes consisted of tarps. I am pretty sure I led us into the Dust Bowl.
• We were once on our way to a race that was at a golf course. I led us to the neighborhood that had no outlet that backed up to the course.
• Speaking of races, I don’t race in the right direction. However, Mr. Speedy is never close to being anywhere behind me so he dodges that bullet with his lung capacity and muscular thighs.
• We were once on our way to a wedding (THIS PAST SATURDAY) and I was in charge of getting us there… I was convinced that we had to drive another mile or so when Mr. Speedy calmly remarked that we were right in front of the church. Oopsies. 

I am very stubborn and after I realize we have gone the wrong way, I have a real problem admitting that it was MY fault.

I usually, as any woman does, blame it on the sun, my dehydration, or my phone’s low reception.

In other news, I have been trying to act more normal in preparation for my big wedding day:

One of my better looks.

This picture is from last summer and it makes me crack up.

No, but really, I have been practicing my wedding walk. I don’t know if you are suppose to do that but sometimes, when no one is around, I drape a blanket around me and try walking down the hall in heels, very s-l-o-w-l-y, in a graceful fashion. I want to try to float, like I am being carried on a cloud of love.

It does not last very long because the hall is only about 15 feet long (and the church is at least 4,593 feet long) but I like to think I am becoming a pro.

I also have been practicing my vows in the mirror. By that, I mean that I usually stare into a pretend Mr. Speedy and proclaim this and that and then I start to get misty eyes, can’t see very well because my contacts shift, end up crying and banging my head onto the mirror repeatedly.

Obviously, everything is going really well.

Practice makes perfect, right?

If that is true, then this road trip should be a easy-peasy to navigate!

I should probably pack some wine… That helps every situation.

Wine shall be packed. Yes.

Sincerely,

Lillian