I was sitting on my parents’ patio a few evenings ago, watching the sun slowly set below the Rocky Mountain skyline. I was lost in how stunning the orange was as it faded to purple and the fiery orb slipped quietly below the mountains, when it hit me: this isn’t the life I wanted. It got darker, and I tried to remember when it last felt like I had my ish together. It was June of 2008. Eight years had passed since I had started running from everything that wasn’t fit for me, and it was time to stop. For eight years I had been making decisions like a hummingbird picking a feeder; whatever is easiest, whatever offers the least resistance, I’ll do that, because this shit is hard.
To give you some context, I spent eight years dismantling my life, screw by screw, until I had a pile of pieces laying all around me. I moved around so much, never giving anything much of a chance to soak in and feel some kind of way. Boy, Boy, Friend, Business, Boy, Boy, Boy, Homesick,
Friendsick, Homesick, Friendsick, Boy, Heal From Boy, Broke and Lost. None of them men, none of them real, entirely my decisions, and so my fault. I had done this to myself, willfully, belligerently, spitefully.
And, taking the easy road will eat you alive, if you’re anything like me.
As I watched the world get dark, a tiny voice inside said, “Not this. Not now. Not here. Nope”.
I haven’t been my own person for at least 8 years. I don’t know where she went, but she’s barely here anymore, and she wanted to be found. Of course, after all that It could never be how it was, right? Right. I had come to a fork spork in the road.
I thought about all the things that I liked before, and none of them felt right, now. In my previous life, I worked in marketing and PR for the entertainment industry, and earned some serious street cred. Even then, though, all I wanted to do was travel and write. Travel and edit. Travel and write. I went home, grabbed a notebook, and I wrote. I needed to bleed all over that paper. If you don’t have a journal, get one. You’ll thank yourself, I promise.
My dreams unfolded on the paper in front of me, and I imagined them taking flight. I want to travel the country in a 27-ft RV, finding the tiny gems of restaurants in every-day USA. I want to prove you can eat well, healthy, locally sourced, and not spend your appendages for a cabbage. I already don’t own anything, or much of anything, and it fits in a 5’ x 8’ storage locker, so it’ll fit in a small RV, right?
By the next morning, I had brainstormed blog names, colors, design, and everything I could share that would add value to my readers’ lives. I woke up at 5:30am, for the first time in years, more jazzed than I had felt in nearly a decade. I threw on my shoes, stopped for donuts, and made a bee-line for my parents’ house. Like always, there was coffee available, and I poured myself a gigantic cup and headed for the back porch. I greeted my folks, and sat down with a thud on one of the office chairs in the enclosure. I took a deep breath and told my mom that I am giving up everything familiar, starting over completely from scratch – I mean COMPLETELY – and running down this dream.
She just stared at me with her usual skeptical look and sipped her coffee.
Sometime later, we were in the garden, and I was elbow-deep in bindweed and mud – feeling creative, connected, and alive – happy as a clam in sand. I asked her for ideas on naming my site. I wrote down all the words that had anything to do with cooking or travel and I grabbed a thesaurus. Nothing looked good, and I had some real gems: a la Car, Have Kitchen Will Travel, Gas ‘n Groceries, and Home is where the Tarte is. These are all fantastic names for food bloggers BTW, and I hope someone researches and claims them. None of them fit. Then came iFoodie, Mad Crops, Asteep at the Wheel, and Backseat Taster. Really, someone should use these. They’re brilliant. They belong in the world with you. Since I was at a fork in the road, I tried that. It’s fitting, makes sense, and plays on words like I enjoy. It’s also similar to about 5 different restaurants with web presence, and I’m not going to fight that SEO stream. Plus, the URL is taken, though it hasn’t been touched.
At some point, my mom glanced over and said, “How about Spork in the Road?” and I LOST it.
I laughed so freaking hard. I said, it’s perfect, and went on the hunt for the URL. Get this: sporkintheroad.com and .net are taken. Then I remembered that adding “a” might still be SEO genius, and while I was researching that URL, my dad chimed in with, “Yeah, the best forkin’ food blog on the web!” and I snorted.
#myparents #johnnywalker #thatshisrealname
I found the URL.
And here we are at A Spork in the Road. Life. Hopefully Inspired.
I hope you like what I’ve laid out here. I’m planning for a bit of travel, and a bit of food, and a whole lotta connection and love. I hope you join me on this journey, and that you surprise yourself in ways you’ve never imagined.
See you soon!