Snakes, Poison Ivy, and Gators...oh my!

This past weekend Abby and I took a little trip down to Midway, GA and toured Fort Morris. We had planned to make several stops while there - Ft. Morris, the Colonial Museum, Seabrook Village, Melon Bluff - but true to, the newly coined, Sarabby style, we didn't take into consideration that it was the day after Christmas, and like us on this particular day, most people don't work the day after Christmas. We realized this as we pulled into the parking lot of an old home that is part of the old Seabrook Village.

Ever the optimists, we decided to get out of the car and take a look around the grounds anyway. Back porch. Check. Old barn. Check. Chicken coop. Check. As we were walking back to the car, we hear the most pitiful meow ever heard to man's ears. Across the field comes running this black, gray, and white cat. Abby is the cat lover of the group, which meant of course that the mangy cat came straight to me. After careful consideration and intelligent reflection, we decided the cat housed the soul of someone I knew previously who was attempting to make contact with me. We christened him Luther...then noticed he was a she and rechristened her Lutherena. So, if you're ever in Midway at the Seabrook village, stop by the visitor's center and meet Lutherena. She's a dear old friend of mine...just haven't figured out which one.

From there we headed to Fort Morris and the old town of Sunbury, GA. Back in the day it rivaled Savannah's docks and imports, and now there is no evidence that a town as big as it was even existed. Which includes the fort. We pulled up and it was literally us and Chuck the talkative forest ranger who was running the office. I was terrified for our well-being. Why? Because we're out in the middle of East Jesus Nowhere with no cell phone signal, and we fit the description of all those twits in scary movies who are the first to die at the hands of the serial killer. But I digress...As I said, there are no buildings, no posts, no nothing (a common saying the in South) to even show this fort existed. So, Hot-air Chuck hands us a map, and we begin our journey from marker of nothing to marker of more nothing. If you have don't have an imagination don't even bother going. But, they did have a lovely nature trail that we went down...and got lost. SARABBY = getting lost on a cleared path.

Once we made our way back to the car, we then headed off for another adventure....but had to take a detour back to see Lutherena after we saw a small colony of ticks crawling on Abby's pants. Lutherena was just as hospitable as ever, and you know you're in the South when even the stray cats are hospitable. De-ticked and vowing an oath to Lutherena that we would one day return and take her away from her unhappy home, we left and found another lovely brown road sign indicating something of historic value. Forgive me, but I can't remember the name of the stupid trail. It's a lovely wooden path of death that leads you blindly into an overgrown marsh. I took the liberty of taking a picture of the welcome sign posted before you begin the trail:



What in the name of Uncle Jonathan's corncob pipe have I gotten myself into?? It's my worst nightmare to be eaten by an alligator!! That stuff's happened, too! Just last year a little old lady at one of the retirement homes in Savannah was attacked by an alligator. But, I braved down the path and am happy to report that we avoided all snakes, were wary of the poison ivy, and did not offer ourselves as alligator appetizers.

This weekend we'll be heading to Hunting Island, South Carolina to hit the trails up there. I'm looking forward to it, but I can't help to be skeptical that it won't be able to hold a candle to this last field trip. It isn't every day you meet a cat housing the soul of a former acquaintance, get to be in your own horror movie, visit an imaginary fort, get lost on a marked trail, and house the set of Big Brother for ticks. But, in the deep South all things are possible. *cue banjo music*

http://gastateparks.org/info/ftmorris/

Abby & Sarah

Our tale begins four years ago in a small computer lab on the campus of a relatively well-known university in Southeast Georgia. Abby and I began our Graduate Assistant positions there and became fast friends. The more we talked, the more we realized we had in common. It wasn't things like "Ooh, we both like the color blue!" that we had in common, it was obscure things like "Ooh, we both have grandmothers who carried pistols in their bras!" in common.

We've been fast friends these years, and make quite the dynamic duo (if we do say so ourselves). There's the aforementioned Abby, the intelligent bookworm. Her superpower is being a walking encyclopedia. She's a 2nd grade teacher and always enlightening me with her vast knowledge. Then there's me, Sarah. Abby described me as the "flamboyant thrill-seeker." I'm a mental health counselor, who, admittedly, is a bit of a dreamer. I like to think I bring some spontaneity to the table and keep Abby on her toes. My superpower is being a walking iPod. I can't remember information that is actually useful, but I can remember song lyrics, artists, etc.

So, what's the basis of this blog? It isn't to brag about how awesome we are (although we are pretty awesome), trust me. One major thing Abby and I have in common is that we're both harboring some serious neuroses! Hence the title of this blog. We have the basis of our neuroses boiled down to anxiety. It's such a small word, but a crippling emotion, and something Abby and I have been dealing with for most of our lives. She's the one who wants to do big things with her life, but is too scared that someone will actually notice her that she does nothing. I'm the one who is seeking excitement and adventure, but have become too comfortable in my own little box to go out there and actually live it.

We came to the realization that this coming new decade is going to be the decade we're in our prime. We're both single, unattached, intelligent girls with nothing but possibility ahead of us. This decade is the one that, hopefully, we'll find the loves of our life, get married, have babies....get divorced, remarried, divorced, remarried...you know, live the American dream. We can either grab this decade by the balls, face our fears, and finally live our dream life, or we can keep going down the path we're on now and become old spinster, cat ladies.

This blog is going to chronical our attempts at facing our fears. For the record, we have tried to branch out in the past, and those attempts have not always fared well (i.e. being covered in ticks, receiving 3rd degree sunburn, getting lost in the marsh, accidental brush with law enforcement, etc.), so I promise you'll be entertained along the way. But, despite these mishaps and blunders, we are going to try, yet again, to make life an adventure and carpe.....what's "this decade's balls" in Latin?

Stay tuned!