Trina Machacek: Until next time |

Trina Machacek: Until next time

By Trina Machacek

There are lots of times in life when you think say or do something good bad or indifferent and in doing those things you might think “Wow. That will never happen again.” Then on the other hand you might think, say or do something and hope, “Wow. I can’t hardly wait until next time.”

Because life is usually fairly long it’s a pretty good bet that there are going to be more “until next time” times than those “never happen again” times.

When something happens a second time, out of the blue, some times it is called deja vu. When deja vu happens it is pretty weird and can make those little hairs on the back of your neck, you know the ones that are usually only noticed when you have short hair and need a trim, yes those little hairs stand up and wiggle to get your attention.

I have experienced the effect of deja vu a few times. They weren’t earth shattering. It happened once when I picked up a hair brush off of a counter. I pick up my hair brush off of the bathroom counter every day, sometime several times a day. Depending on how hard the wind blows during the day!

But this one time it was different. Spooky yes but more creepy than spooky. Oh there is a big difference between creepy and spooky. Deja vu is creepy. OK it’s spooky creepy. But! Yes a spooky, creepy “but.” But as insignificant as picking up that hair brush was, it was creepy enough that I remember that feeling and it was a long, long time ago when it happened. So much so that I really hope it doesn’t come around again, for a third time.

That all being said, the waiting until next time can also be kinda fun. When I was a little kid my mom would comb my hair after a bath. It was long hair when I was really little and as it dried she would brush it and also run her fingers through it at the same time.

I remember when her fingers were dry and my hair was wet her fingers would kind of catch and pull just the slightest. When she died I really was not ready for her to go and I said that over and over again. That first night that she was gone, as I sat alone in a quiet spot I felt her fingers tug at my hair. It was as real of a feeling as if I were sitting in front of her. Me, little girl me, sitting on the floor in our living room and her sitting on that couch combing my hair.

The couch was turquoise and the rug on the floor was very old and worn. But I could feel her fingers in my hair and that distinct light tugging. I could see that room as plain as day. Now that experience is something that I can’t wait until next time when it hopefully happens again.

Of course on the other side of the weirdness scale there is this. Moving away from the boogie factor of things happening to where real grand things happen. I took a trip with a couple of gal pals to Disneyland a long time ago. It was a blast and I can’t wait until another trip like that comes around again. One where I get to go and just wahoo through a few days of fun and sun and silliness that is very rarely achieved.

It was one of those trips where, when you get back home it takes you just as many days as you were gone to refill your energy reservoir. Not all trips are that happy. Like the time we ate some really good food at a highly recommended Tex-Mex place and I paid for it dearly the next day. I’m pretty sure you can figure out what occurred!

Of course had I not been indisposed that next mid morning as we were being pummeled by a slick talker trying to get us to “invest” in a time share, we might still be paying for a vacation to somewhere that we really only wanted to go to visit once. Not every year until the sun starts to come up in the West! Hey we took the 45-minute talk to get free tickets to go snorkeling off an anchored catamaran out over a submerged volcano. Always looking for a free deal! That’s me. HAHA Nope that was definitely not an “until next time,” time.

Trina lives in Eureka, Nevada. Her book, “They Call Me Weener” is available on or email her at