Well, in truth, I only drove through Pennsylvania, which was kind of out of the way, but that’s coming up. The point is, before this weekend, I’d been to the State of Independence but twice, and neither trip yielded especially positive results. Last spring, J and I went on a little “our relationship is waning, we must save it now” wine weekend—when really, we should have just signed a DNR. Then last month I was up in Philly as the Japan Man’s ill-conceived date–where I realized I’d meant nothing substantive to him all along. It’s fair to say, then, that while PA may be lovely, it’s just not my state. Good things don’t happen to me there.

I was cruising through the farmland Sunday afternoon, though, and I just felt so good. So happy. So absolutely content with where I am and what I’m doing; there between the fast-growing corn and the signs for FRUIT: NEXT EXIT, there was a real sense of peace. I could be Pennsylvania. I could drive those roads again, my sunroof open and the wind in my hair. I’ve learned a lot of things, but a bit of truth is this: very few things are one-sided. Sometimes you’ve just got to shake it up; come at it from a different angle. Swap out the integers, and approach it from the north this time.

A while ago—quite awhile ago, actually—the lovely Carolyn tagged me to share 10 “interesting things” about myself, my habits, etc. I haven’t forgotten! I promise. I’ve just been feeling … swallowed. I actually did dishes this morning, but my laundry from India? And the week before? Still in the hamper. ALAS. I don’t know when my calendar left me with a billion things taking time, yet no actual time to speak of.

It’s not the weekend anymore, but nonetheless, I’ll present here ten things, inspired by my weekend away, to get that Friday feeling back.

1. I think I might be allergic to New Jersey, and/or New York. My skin has always been sensitive, but the rash all across my chest right now is just ridiculous. It’s also alarmingly reminiscent of the one I brought back from Princeton in the spring, except that one took over my face, too, and needed several days of Benadryl and lots of pricey lotion to tame. I’ve put said lotion in the “bring to live in NY pile” as a preventative measure from this point.

2. I genuinely suck where “sense of direction” is concerned. This is how I met a New Jersey raccoon on a pitch-black Friday in a very dark neighborhood—a neighborhood that looked nothing like the Garden State Parkway. Curious. It’s when I’m lost and frustrated that I get testy and emotional; I didn’t break down and cry (victory!), but did get pretty snappy with the PhD on the phone.

3. Even when I’m on track, though, I often follow instructions with such blinders it proves detrimental. I had scribbled instructions of how to get home, but I trusted the GPS instead—which is how I detoured through the entirity of Pennsylvania. Saved about $18 on tolls, incidentally, but added an easy 100 miles to the journey. Lucky for me I didn’t add any time because …

4. I take serious satisfaction in driving really, really fast. When I can cruise with the flow of traffic at 80, 85mph on open roads against blue skies? Sign me up. Bonus points when I can beat the GPS’s ETA by an hour in so doing. Six hours and three minutes? We’ll see about that.

5. No joke, a giant meatball pizza and a pitcher of beer at 4pm could, with the right company, really be an ideal date in my book. I’m used to a lot of nice things, but I’m ridiculously easy to please.

6. I’m progressive in a lot of ways (see, e.g., spending till noon in the PhD’s bed on Saturday, ahem), but in others I’m really a traditionalist. I kind of like the idea of being a housewife one day, and forgetting this lawyer thing ever happened; also, I find myself getting angry in hippy-liberal churches. That or really inclined to bust out kumbaya when they all form a circle and hold hands to pray. I miss the days where women wore big hats to church, and I think skirts should still be mandatory in court (but I’m willing to be flexible on that as I have some tremendously cute pant-suits. Still, though).

7. Mosquitoes freaking love me. No one in a ten mile radius will so much as see one passing, but I’ll end up all pock-marked. Those bastards bite through the unscented off! stuff, too, and I’ve pretty quickly discovered that smelling like deet is pretty much a fantastic turn-off. Boo mosquitoes.

8. There are a lot of things I love about the city, but there’s a charm to small-town life that’s just so pure, so real, so American; there’s a (growing) part of me that I think would be actually thrive in a place where the laundromat owner knows you from the check-out line at the grocery store where you always see the mailman’s daughter who used to work at the bank until, well, everyone knows how that worked out, and pharmacist married the librarian’s sister and they’re all coming over for dinner tonight anyway. Like Gilmore Girls, right: small town charm with culture, and not too far from the bigness of my now-definitions of real life.

9. I really love surprises, both giving and receiving. I snuck a bottle of scotch into the PhD’s bedroom before I left, as a “thanks for having me, congratulations on your totally impressive new job” present, and I still get such a kick out of the surprise in his voice when he called to say he’d found it. So much more fun than just handing it over.

10. I’m not a singer at all. My voice is terrible. Recently, though, I’ve found myself totally singing in the car (alone only; obviously). I get totally into it. I also have a really uncanny memory for song lyrics, even songs I don’t particularly like / haven’t heard in years; play me the opening bars of anything even remotely familiar and I’ll almost always be able to recall nearly all of the words. Even the little bum-bum-bam parts. You know, the instrumental parts that are really fun to sing along to? Uh-huh.

I really could keep going, but in the interest of following directions (see #3) and getting back to work (see paycheck wants an autodeposit), I’ll leave it there. The upshot is, only two more days till it’s Friday again …