August 05, 2005

Ready. Aim. Bullseye.

Target.

Just thinking about it gives me a little thrill. Going there makes me smile. Strolling the aisles gives me a little zip and can honestly lift my mood on a bad day. Can't explain it, it just is. I've mentioned it before, I know, but I don't think I really conveyed the whole of it.

And I didn't know there were other people out there like me. But there are, there are. There's even a name for people us. I'm proud to admit that I, too, am a Slave to Target.

I really didn't think that I would ever be inclined to mention this, let alone offer up proof, but finding that site has inspired me, and I have a little anecdote from my big trip back in May.

Now, even though I didn't blog much about the actual trip, you know I loved going to Yellowstone. I enjoyed getting there, I enjoyed the stops along the way, I loved the animals and flora, I even loved the rain and crazy weather that dogged us. I enjoyed trying new restaurants and hotels. I loved the geysers, the mudpots and the Grand Canyon of Yellowstone. I loved traipsing around fireswept vistas, and valleys surrounded by bison that were, by turns, scary, adorable, and awe-inspiring.

But even when I was out there being Nature Girl, taking tons pictures of anything that moved and a whole bunch of things that didn't, finding bison chips charming and bison jams amusing, there was still a part of me that wondered, "When do I get to shop?" Not gift shops, those are like being a hamster on an overpriced wheel. Therapeutic, take-my-time, see-what's-new-and-exciting shopping. (I've lost about half of you by this point, haven't I?) Just that inner voice giving me a bit of longing, nothing more.

Then we took a day away from the park and went to Bozeman, Montana. Now, you would have had to be there to understand why simply going there was funny to us, but apart from that it was a neat day. We went to the Museum of the Rockies and spent hours wandering around there, soaking up the displays on dinosaurs, the Lewis & Clark trail, the geology of the area, women in rodeo, frontier life, and the Native American culture.

By the time we stumbled out of there it was past time for lunch and we were terrifically hungry. With mere instinct and quivering stomachs to guide us (since the AAA Tour Book wasn't giving us jack), we found our way downtown and discovered a totally fantastic place for beer and pizza, the MacKenzie River Pizza Co., where we had a great meal in a fun setting. I highly recommend it if you're in the area (and be sure to visit the restrooms).

Sated, tired and happy, it was time to figure out what to do with the rest of our time there. By this time my allergies were giving me a lot of grief and I really needed to buy a pillow sans dust mites. In a situation like that, the thoughts of a woman like me naturally turn to...Target. It's just where I tend to go first to buy those kinds of things. We asked our waiter if there was one in town and, lo and behold, there was. So off we went, in search of the red bullseye.

I didn't realize until we pulled into the parking lot how excited I was about this little detour. I got out of the car and, I swear, my first thought was "I'm home!" I must admit, that startled even me a bit, but it didn't slow me down. See:






















I really wasn't planning on having the first-ever picture I posted of myself here being, um, from that particular angle, but it's real, it's honest, and I think it really captures the moment. I call it "Maura Returning to the Mother Ship."

So now you know. I'm slavishly devoted to Target, I'd rather shop there than most anywhere else and, well, let's face it, Target could call me its bitch and I don't think I'd have much of an argument against that.

Right now it's time for a good night's sleep. Big day tomorrow. There's some shopping I need to do.