Officially on the road!
If Washington was what my soul needed, then Idaho was what my heart needed. Most people don’t think of Southwest Idaho as a destination spot, but for me, it’s a must‑see — not because of the scenery, but because of who’s there.
In the high desert lives a little family that holds a very special place in my heart. Back in the early days of my career, I crossed paths with a blue‑eyed girl who was exactly my kind of weird. Her name is Rachel and we clicked instantly — the kind of click that happens when you invite someone to 80’s‑night bowling and they show up in full chaotic commitment. From that moment, we were inseparable. We spent three years in Hawaii singing karaoke, dressing up for movie premieres, and being the best kind of fun. Over time, I got to know her family and they became my family too.
I left Hawaii in 2009 to move to Japan, and Rachel left the Air Force shortly after and went to Colorado. While we weren’t co-located anymore, our friendship maintained and stayed strong. We would travel to see each other and meet up all over the States with our friend Sara for girls-trips. We have been to New York, Florida, done a flash mob in Colorado, and so much more. 20 years later, we have our own families and our children are convinced they are cousins. We have always talked about being co-located again, and right now that isn’t in the cards, but perhaps one day.
The drive to Idaho took us through the southeast corner of Washington and down the east side of Oregon. We left late so we could take care of Sparky — the cat we were pet‑sitting — while her parents traveled home, which meant an overnight stop in northern Oregon. The next morning, we finished the trip through high desert, the Blue Mountains, pine forests, and miles of sagebrush. I had no idea Oregon looked like that. In my mind, Oregon was all Bend‑green and coastal‑lush, so the dry openness surprised me — and I loved every minute of it.
We stayed at the cutest little AirBnB, owned by Bruce and his wife Carey. It was perfect for us — cozy, simple, with enough household supplies to feel at home. Ivey claimed the living room, while I spent most of my time on the back lanai writing, exercising, and soaking up the scorching heat. And speaking of heat: remember how Seattle was so cold we had to buy new clothes? Idaho was the exact opposite. It was so hot and dry that it actually shrunk one of my Croc slippers. I am still shocked.
Idaho looked and felt like summer — warm brown hills, dry heat I soaked up, and a hummingbird that kept visiting the AirBnB like it was part of the family. One night, Ivey fell asleep watching her first real thunderstorm through the window. We didn’t spend much time outside because the heat overwhelmed her, but the place still held that easy, summer feeling.
While we were there, Rachel still had to work and one of her kids, B, still had school — something we knew ahead of time and welcomed. It fit perfectly with our intention to slow down. Ivey and I had quiet, late mornings and met up with the family most evenings. Ivey started to learn how to crochet, and we did a little geocaching- until the heat crashed the party. When we got the girls together, it took a little time for them to remember how to play together, but they found their rhythm. Rachel and I, though? From the first hug, it was like no time had passed. She’s the kind of hugger who pours her whole heart into the squeeze — the kind of embrace that heals things you didn’t realize were hurting. I’ve missed that so much.
Ivey had a bumpy time in Idaho. She and Rachel’s kids had a few tough moments, but like sisters, they always found their way back to each other. We tried to take a long drive to a lake up north, but the overstimulation hit her before we even made it out of town, and our backup plan — an indoor play place — wasn’t much better. Even the waterpark, a place she usually loves, felt overwhelming for her. Her most comfortable spot ended up being the house, tucked in with the girls and their dog Harvey. I don’t know exactly what gift Idaho gave her, but I hope it offered something gentle — a small piece of connection or comfort she can carry forward in her own way.
In our downtime, Ivey played on her tablet with Ruby, watched movies, and learned new dances, while I was outside writing or doing exercises. Something about me: I love dancing. I’ve never been good — think Napoleon Dynamite levels of passion with toddler‑level skill — but before leaving Hawaii, I promised myself I’d bring dancing back into my life as part of slowing down and choosing joy. So anyone that could see the patio got front‑row seats to me learning bits of High School Musical choreography, sweating in the heat and laughing at myself the whole time.
Now we need to talk about High School Musical (HSM) for a second. HSM is one of those Disney Original movie franchises- like The Descendants and Zombies. When Rachel and I met– and she might kill me for saying this– HSM was her favorite thing in the whole world, so I was along for the ride. We watched those movies until we could recite them. Rachel was the singer and I was the one trying to dance along. It was pure silly joyful fun. We would sing those songs like they would carry us through the chaos of the world. So… HSM has a special place in my heart because it reminds me of our friendship and how to have fun.
One night, the girls wanted to have a sleepover. It would be the first for both S and B, but this time, we had a mom’s night as well. The girls watched Zombies as they wound down for the night. Meanwhile, Rachel and I rewatched HSM2 and HSM3 and relived the beauty of our early friendship with the most intense karaoke party that 40-year-old women could handle at 11pm. Rachel still managed to know every line and somehow I pulled out some VERY RUSTY dance moves. There was something about that night that healed something in both of us. It was the best night I’ve had in ages.
Idaho mattered to me in a way I didn’t fully expect. After such a tumultuous year, being with Rachel and her family felt like stepping into a familiar heart‑place — one I can carry with me as I move through this huge life and career transition. There was a grounding there, a steadiness that comes only from people who have known you across decades and still see you clearly. Connecting with her kids, building my own relationship with them, added a new layer to that comfort. And in the quiet moments — the laughter, the silliness, the ease — I felt a kind of lightness I’ve been craving. The kind you only get with someone who knows your history, your weirdness, your wounds, and your joy. Idaho reminded me of the version of myself from early adulthood, the one who lived with fewer responsibilities and more levity, and it gave me a glimpse of how to bring some of that back.
There is something truly magical about female friendships. I have been so incredibly blessed with the women I have come across in this life. It can be hard to find the people that speak your language, but when you find them, there is a magic that happens. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have the beautiful women in my life by my side through my highest of highs and the lowest of lows. I have had people help me celebrate my wins and accomplishments, keep me afloat when I was drowning, and envelop me with the purest love and community. All of my ladies out there… Thank you. I hope that I can show Ivey the beauty of female friendships and help her harness the power they bring. This stop was mostly for me, but it mattered for our girls too— a tiny reminder that female friendship comes in all shapes and flavors, and they get to collect their own someday.
So here’s to the women who hold us up, laugh with us, and love us through every messy chapter — and here’s my wish that our girls inherit a world full of friendships that feel like celebration, comfort, and just the right amount of mischief.
See you in South Lake Tahoe!
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