Those four words sum up my directional abilities in their entirety. They represent the four pointed options on a compass.
Easy enough. But hereâ€™s where it gets tricky: the above is a static stationary image. If I move, there is no guarantee it will move. Then we end up going in varying directions.
Today was Harlanâ€™s first birthday party. (Happy Birthday Harlan! Can you believe itâ€™s been a year already?) So the muppets and I headed out to the partyâ€™s locale, in the city just south of where we live. Weâ€™ve been to Harlanâ€™s house several times in the past year. And we get lost coming home each and every time. Without fail.
But each time, itâ€™s a NEW lost. (Gotta keep things fresh. Itâ€™s all about discovery.) See, several of the streets are in the â€œNewâ€ area of town, Â so Google Maps is continuously confused â€“ refusing to acknowledging the streets exist. â€œStreet not found.â€
Dammit. I will show it to you when you get here!
But this doesnâ€™t faze me anymore. I donâ€™t even get frustrated. We just drive around in the Mom Mobile until we reach an area where weâ€™ve likely been lost before. Then we find a freeway.
Directions aren’t my strong suit. If you ask me my gut feeling on North, I will point skyward.
I lived in the same house until I moved away to college. Born and raised an omigawd like totally San Fernando Valley girl. My world was an approximately 5-mile radius. We haunted the same spots. Sixteen years in, I passed my driving test. FREEDOM! The day I accomplished this right of passage I informed my mom I was ready for my first solo excursion. She was sending me to Target.
â€œGreat! How do I get there?â€
She stared at me dumbfounded. â€œSeriously?â€
I nodded eagerly.
â€œYou really donâ€™t know how to get to Target?â€
Now, to be fair, yes â€“ Iâ€™d been to this particular Target about 5, 732 times over the course of the past 16 years. I knew where Target was. I knew where I was. I did not know how to connect the two.
With a doubtful and pitiful expression, she explained in explicit detail the single left turn involved in the 4.7 mile journey. â€œExit the Canyon. Drive down Valley Circle. Turn left on Vanowen. Arrive at Target.â€ (I am not making this up.)
Iâ€™m pretty sure she thought sheâ€™d never see me again. (Granted, given my teenage self, Iâ€™m not sure this was a negative in her eyesâ€¦)
My mother called me moments before I departed on my first trip home from college via vehicle â€“ Santa Clara to LA. â€œIf you get to AuntJâ€™s, you went the wrong way.â€ AuntJ lives in Oregon. My mom was only kinda joking.
Recently I went to lunch with a colleague. When they handed me the address of our scheduled meeting I warned, â€œOk, but we may end up in Arizona.â€ I was only kinda joking.
I prefer to think of this as a positive â€“ skills of the adventurous. Iâ€™ve inherited my sense of geographic awareness from GrampaStavo. And he, much like Columbus, left the European continent and ended up in America. Mostly by accident.
This is the reason Iâ€™m not allowed to be co-pilot anymore.