900 hours later, she got a quarter of the way through TX!

Why is Texas so fucking big? They need to cut this shit in half so the people driving across it can feel more accomplished. Nebraska needs to put that on the table as well quite frankly...

Okay! If I were to...

Design my own GPS unit...

It would have way better accents:

Lou Anne: "Hey ya'll! Yer exits comin' up purty soon! Ya'll are goin' to want to git on over to yer right to take that there exit!"

Gerome: "You be at a exit yo."

Latisha would have MAD attitude and everything would be a fight that was solved by offering up empty promises and child support: "Heeeeells nah! I ain't goin that way wit you fool!"

Mick: "Me thinks your journey could be better after a pint or two at the old Purple Shamrock! Here she comes on the right lad! Don't miss her! And beware of people who like cats!"

That manly Australian dude: "Oy mate! You missed your exit ya bloody wombat! You couldn't organise a piss-up in a brewery!"

Also, the little car or arrow could be replaced with just about anything that would be way more fun to watch. A kid on a skateboard. Lou anne scantily dressed running full throttle. An armadillo. Seriously, anything.

My GPS would contain the normal points of interests like restaurants and gas stations but it would also have super fun things, like the largest ball of twine or a museum dedicated to dog collars. You would have the choice of random offers come up as you drive along or you could pick from a list along your route and be reminded once you were close.

TomTom beware. There could be a new improved GPS in town and it's going to kick your lame ass all over the place!

So pretty sure I'm in Odessa TX. The car is making this weird high pitched whistle noise when going straight once over 65 mph and it stops when I corner. Then at lower speeds, it makes this weird grinding/singsong noise when turning. How weird is THAT? It's freaking me out so now I have to find someone to help me figure it out tomorrow. I'm staying hopeful that it's just the power steering and I can limp it to AZ. But shit, I'm such a chick, how would I know?

Ah life...

I love Dave McKean. One because he illustrates for Neil Gaiman and I am OBSESSED with Neil Gaiman and two because he makes rad art. Observe:

If I were to...

This is a little game I play with myself when driving for hours on end. Once I end up somewhere I have no interest in, which today happened to be the tail end of Louisiana, I start spacing out and play the If I were to game.

Todays subject:

If I were to open a strip club, tattoo/piercing studio or restaurant...

I would call it The Rabid Rabbit.

If it were a restaurant, it would be strictly vegetarian. Now I am totally into those neon signs that make the object look like it's moving by blinking lights to switch the picture back and forth, so the restaurant would probably have a rabbit frying veggies in a pan. One moment he's holding the pan, the next he's FLIPPING VEGGIES IN THE AIR with a super huge smile on his face! YAY!

If it were a strip club, the sign would be of a little sexy girl rabbit sitting down with her legs crossed, hands (paws?) folded on her lap, looking up to the left all demure and then BAM, leg goes out and she covers her mouth with the tips of her fingers and a surprise! I'm so naughty! wide eyed look on her face... It would be a swank establishment. A gentleman's club if you will. The Prophet asked if transvestites would be allowed to dance there. Um, can they bring in clients? Then yes, of course they can... this is money business, not hate business. Geez...

Since tattoo/piercing parlors have to keep it cool, I would probably just go for some gnarly rabid looking white rabbit with red eyes and just flip the open/closed sign on the door or have a no big deal lit up OPEN sign for when we were... right.

As I mentioned this before blogging it, K to the power of the S jumped the gun and started with color scheme (which I hadn't gotten to as I had just finished the logos and was considering menu style). She's totally right that the building should be white. No matter which establishment, it would be white.

That said...

It's hunting season in Alabama. I know this because I pulled into a place to fill up and a group of good ol' boys, clad in full camo and fondling shot guns, drove in behind me towing their boat that was hand painted to look like marsh grass. They stopped and got out to check some things that I couldn't figure out unless it was just to drop stuff and run over a jacket or two and yell "BACK UP!" a lot while holding said guns. Yes, it was as awesome as it sounds. Yes, it fully confirmed what I have known since I was very young: Alabama is magical.

One of the dudes was checking out the Scion while I was walking the kids and I got the, "I sure like yer car there" AND a hat tip! I'm in! I was so caught up in loading the dogs up and getting ready to head out that I didn't think to get a picture of these dudes and their boat until about 10 miles away! DAMN DAMN AND HELL! You KNOW they would have posed in front of the boat with their shotguns! You KNOW one of them would have happily taken another picture while I posed WITH them holding their guns in front of the boat! SHIT! ASS! FUCK! If this is to ever happen again, you know I'll be ready because we all like to pretend I learn from my mistakes don't we?

Side Note: I have loved Alabama since I was very very small. True Romance (the movie) carved the idea in stone once I was a teen. Yes, I finally went to AL when I was about 30. Yes, it's a total marshland fucking hole. Yes, they all hate me because of my yankee accent. Yes, they hate me even more when I try to fake a southern drawl. Yes, I still love AL and I always will. I want to move there so bad even though I know it would be awful. However, there is that super enthusiastic chick in my head that says they would all get to love me after a while and I would be accepted as one of them once I took my dogs hunting and bought my own boat that I hand painted to look like the marshes... She's fucked me over bad a number of times. Hence me not living in AL. Yet.

JH <3 AL 4EVA!

Oh hey! I found Little Jersey. It's the town of Trousand, Louisiana. My If I were to thought process was broken when I thought I smelled something disgusting burning and panicked a little because that's never good. After hurriedly checking the car, I noticed it was coming from my vents and then I looked about. Yuck. I'm not saying you should go there. Just imagine Jersey but smaller, poorer and blacker (is that PC?) and you're all set.

I still have pictures of the Goodyear blimp in my camera. I wore super short shorts and a bathing suit top and they allowed me to go right into the hanger while explaining that never happens. Uh yeah dude, I know, that's why I dressed like a total slut, smiled a lot when asking, bounced up and down cheering when you said yes and keep saying the word "like" to explain everything... Once I get settled somewhere I'll dump the pics onto the computer and you'll see them. :)

I'm starting to get a little jealous of the truckers. You know they have something scrumptious in the back cooking in their run on a lighter jack crock-pot. You know they do. I need a CB. It might be the best investment I have ever made. I got the TomTom instead and please don't think I'm complaining because TomTom helps us find things faster than when we just hopefully drive in circles but a CB would be worthy...

Bastards!


Over & Out

Truth

Blogs are a way to unload the shit you can talk about freely but often don't think to tell anyone about. Blogs are not a way to unload the shit that would make people start judging and give you advice you either all ready know or don't want to hear. :)

Rain rain go away... okay fine, I will.

I'm packing it up tonight and heading out tomorrow. It is staying cloudy and rainy and the next two days are not promising more. I can't sun or run the dogs in the rain but I can drive like mad in the rain. Driving wins. I also want to get the next chapter of my life written. Anyone who knows me well is completely aware that even though I may come across hopeless at times, the JH is never hopeless for long, and will at some point scrape together what some people might label bedlam and what I label adventure, freedom, the pursuit of happiness and/or life. So the anticipation of this next chapter is wreaking havoc on my senses while the storm clouds roll over head mocking and spitting on me. Nimbostratus bastards.

Favorite bands as of right this instant:

- Bright Eyes (Thank you Pandora! I'm so glad they let you out of the box.)

- Phoenix (I swear they really are great and not just some conjured up cryptic "sign" in my head therefore sounding like they rock out when they don't. They do. Awesomeness in your ears. Swear.)

- Kings of Leon (*sigh*)

- Modest Mouse (should be #1 but I don't want to play favorites or I start feeling like I am cheating on Modest Mouse with Kings of Leon and let's face it, that's just fucking weird. Thinking about it makes me laugh at the most inappropriate times and that's just fucking embarrassing.)

Over & Out

Quiero saber su vida secreta

There is this Mexican dude two doors down from me. He's staying there with some other Mexican guys but I can't figure out how many of them there are because they are always coming and going in different cars...

This one guy does nothing but drink Bud Light, walk up and down the walk way and talk on the phone. That's it. This starts anywhere between 10 & 11 in the morning and ends anywhere between 10 & 12 in the evening.

My questions are: What the HELL is he talking about all day and how is he still standing by 3 p.m.? Seriously! He must down a couple 30 packs per day easy money and it's not like he's pacing himself. Every time his beer is finished, he goes inside and gets another one. I am also stumped by where the beer is coming from. I never see anyone bring any back to the room. Ever.

You have no idea how hard it is for me to leave this guy alone. I just want to slap the phone out of his hand and hammer him with questions and then run into his place to see the gigantic pile of beer he somehow smuggled in during the 1/2 hour I happened to luck out and fall asleep...

No sleep for the wicked...

awesome people.

Couldn't sleep last night. This is a common occurrence which I would love to say is getting old, or maybe even getting normal, but I'd have to remove the "getting" from both. It's normal and old and as of late it's making me feel psychotic. More so than usual. And that's scary.

The dogs and I ended up walking all over creation and most of that creation was the beach. I have this bizarre relationship with the beach. I love the water. I hate the sand. Come on, if you have been to the beach, you know the fucking sand gets into everything. Add water to the deal and you're never ever getting rid of it. It's like glitter. Made from the devil and impossible to get rid of once you introduce it to your life. But glitter is shiny and fun! And I have two dogs, so that's three times as much everything as usual. But the sand is quite literally 50% of the deal now isn't it? I love the ocean. I can sit by it for hours when I remember it exists or if I am having an especially draining day. Massive things I cannot control that could kill me help my state of mind and help me remember I am just a small insignificant drop in this spinning dirt ball bucket. So to speak. I will miss the ocean but I keep reminding myself it is only a day away from Phoenix if I just can't take it. Which is rather unlikely but an exciting little road trip idea nonetheless. Also, if I play my cards right, it could end up being a camping venture and those are always so much fun...

It's overcast and chilly today. The perfect laundry day. Since the dogs are completely wiped out from our late night wanderings, it's an even more spectacular plan. I might strip down their beds and the car hammock and go ape shit wild and just do it all so my car doesn't reek like dog and dirty bedding. Not that I am opposed to those smells but it gets disgusting when you trap both odors in a car for days on end.

So I booked myself until the 27th. Can you stand it? I'm glad I asked but I am going to see if I can leave the 25th regardless without playing for the last two days. I have it stuck in my head that I am leaving the 25th so I am all ants in my pants. I get like that. I'm really only good for 2 - 10 days until I start getting clammy palms and the pacing begins. I'm not sure why I thought I could handle 14 days. The only thing I can compare it to is when you are super super hungry and order two appetizers and an entree and when the entree shows up you realize your eyes were bigger than your stomach and you should have just gotten the appetizers or an entree, but certainly not both.

I am the only person I know who can't handle long vacations. Well, if anyone wants a room in Pompano Beach for a couple days, just let me know. It's available until the 27th. :)

Oooo... I will leave off with some fun camera phone pictures:

These are good examples of the difference between Tab and Jim. These were taken at the same time on a windy day. She is standing in the shower stall having a mental breakdown... It's funny until you have to take a shower or just want her to stop acting like a complete fool.

Did anyone see that?? The door just closed!! *shudder* WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!


And here we have the total opposite end of the spectrum


Hanging out at dad's after a good long run in the field


My fish are doing surprisingly well considering their circumstances. Traveling fish...

I couldn't get a decent picture of this dude to save my life. Seriously, if you put a gun to my head and told me to get a decent picture of him, you would have to pull the trigger. I am paranoid enough without adding spiteful fish to the list, but it's as if he knows... Well, joke's on him. He's a super pretty little thing but who'd know? What a jerk. No seriously! Look at him! Look at that smug look on his face! If he had fingers, he'd be flipping us off.


Since the other fish is conspiring against me and my photography skills, this little dude is bumped up to favorite status. He's also a fabulous fish to look at and takes his job very seriously by posing for the camera and swimming about all day like he's saying, "Look at me! Look at me! I am so beautiful! Try to take your eyes off me! I dare you!". It makes up for the other fish's blatant disregard to his due responsibility which makes me hope this fish isn't an enabler. That's not something you want to get into the habit of after all...

"They didn't get me this time. Now who's the stupid ones?"

I would totally hang out with this guy...


Alien Abduction Blog Part 1 - 7 Nites - For more of the funniest videos, click here

New discoveries and what the accomplishment of filling a large water bottle full of tiny snails feels like

Remember the chipped tooth? It's fixed. It looks a little strange to me but I'm certain it's some weird psychological hang up of mine because it's not really "my" tooth now. It's about 1/2 my tooth. I keep staring at it and sending it "welcome to your new home, we really appreciate you're here" vibes. Also, remember the holes behind my front teeth? They're not holes! YAY to normal wear and tear! The places that feel like holes are from me grinding my teeth, which I do all day and then worse all night. BOO to grinding your teeth like it's your job! I had a mouth guard, but apparently it only works when you keep it in your mouth the entire night. Unconscious me does not appreciate the mouth guard and will often take it out. She always puts it back where it belongs, but it doesn't remove the resentment conscious me has accumulated because of this.

The dentistry facility was the balls. I am going to go for the early morning appointments from now on because then I have no one ahead of me. Brilliant. I retract the asshole statement from last night's entry. This morning they whisked me in before I could even fill out the paperwork or my conversation with the extremely cheery receptionists. Right fucking on. Then the dentist and his assistant (both of which had fantastically firm handshakes and steadfast eye contact) talked me through every little step. I didn't even need Novocain. I didn't panic once. No cold sweats, no slapping at the dentist, no swearing at the assistant, nothing. Just little old me sitting there calm as can be like I go to the dentist every single day because that's how much I enjoy it. He used this neat-o camera in my mouth and kept showing me pictures of my teeth and the more enthusiastic I was, the more he showed me. I have excellent teeth and just need a good cleaning. I'm in. He recommended someone in AZ who has the nickname "Painless Paul". I am so there. I keep singing a little song in my head where Painless Paul produces pain and becomes Punchdrunk Paul. It's a super good time in here...

Today could be a beach day today but I cannot decide because it's windy. Now, I don't care about the wind but Tabitha is having herself a nice hardcore mental breakdown over it. Nothing scares her more than the wind... ooo... shutting a door. I'll give her a small break. Shit moving on it's own kind of freaks me out too. But this wind thing is getting fucking stupid. I don't know what happened but she used to be fine about wind. Jim just watches her and keeps looking at me as if to say see I told you she's stupid and we share a little moment that makes us both feel nice I'm sure. How does any of this relate to the beach you ask? If I go, my dad will be watching the dogs. He can be a mite bit impatient and the more you get tense while Tabitha is doing her code red we're all going to die routine, the worse she gets. I'm also not into dumping my dogs somewhere while they're having a hard time mentally or physically. It just feels so wrong and unleadership like.

Shells shells shells... It's become an obsession. Surprised? Me either. I am so fucking OCD. It's a sickness, they're right. I used to call it "tunnel vision" in hopes of sounding healthy and aware. Once people see me in action, they know. They know I have the sickness. I promised myself I would stop collecting shells when the first glass was full. I promised myself I would stop collecting shells when the second glass was full. I promised myself I would stop collecting shells when the large sized Aquafina bottle was full. Aquafina bottle is full and I am trying as hard as I can to simply not look down when I am in the field. It's kind of working. Having collected most (if not all) of the visible shells is also of great assistance. The little pretty shells are all crammed into this bottle with water. I'm hoping I can loosen the dirt up inside the large white shells if I just let them soak until AZ. Then the dremel comes out and I start making the tiniest of holes in them and commence my bad ass mobile/chime thingamajig. It's going to rule.

Don't think I have forgotten about the butterfly mobile. I haven't. I have all the things necessary to build it packed into the car. At least now I will have the proper equipment and workspace to build it in an efficient amount of time while expending an efficient amount of energy. You know you're pumped...

Hello brethren

Today was a nice change from last night. We'll go in order. I haven't unpacked my huge suitcase with all my clothes due the weight and just carry about 5 outfits in a smaller bag. Last night I was eating a chicken. You know the little guys you can buy all rotisseried up at the supermarket? I love those guys and I don't even waste time with a fork, I just tear them apart with my bare hands and feel like a carnivore. Hot. Anyway, I am eating one of those, considering that I should do laundry soon. I have been here more than a week. You do the smelly dirty clothing math. Just as I was considering this the chicken somehow dislodges itself from my hand and I am suddenly covered with chicken. Meat, juices, the works. It was disgusting. So now I have a chicken smelling pile of dirty clothes. Then, I was lying in bed watching TV (which I don't normally do so it's a special little treat that will end once I am out of here) when I decided I was thirsty. I raised the glass to my mouth and once again my hand went all down syndrome on me and I smashed the glass off of my front teeth, dumping juice water all over me, the bed and Tab. Once that was cleaned up I noticed my tooth felt odd. I chipped a little chunk off the bottom left of my upper right front tooth. Not hot. I have a dentist appointment tomorrow morning at 7:45 a.m.. Yeah, that's a reasonable time to have my mouth worked on. Assholes. I'm hoping they can not only clean my teeth and fix this new chip but also do something with the alarming sized holes in the back of my upper front teeth. I am terrified of dentists so I am going to see if they can say soothing things to me so I don't make a run for it in the waiting room like I normally do. Hence the not worked on scary holes. I can only last about 10 minutes and then I am running for the door. Ridiculous? Yes. Shameful? Maybe. I wouldn't know since shame and I broke up when she ran off with pride a while back. Also, hello? Who the hell only has issues with their two top front teeth. Seriously. It's just insulting.

Oooo... Here's a fun little story. I was out in the field the other night throwing the rubber chicken around for Tabitha and letting Jim stretch his legs while we waited for my dad to finish his "spot of tea" and head our way. Now the field is not lit up by anything at night so if you stand in a shaded area, no one can see you from the street. I happened to be in one of those shaded areas kicking stuff around to help Jim "hunt" while tossing the chicken when I see who I swear is my dad. Same height and weight, same ambling walk, same silhouette, same everything. Realizing he can't see us from there and fearing he'd pass by us and head to the now empty efficiency I screamed out, "WE'RE OVER HERE!". The form visibly startled, froze and starting looking around in an alarmed fashion so after a pause I then scream, "I'M IN HERE THROWING THE CHICKEN AROUND AND THEN I AM GOING BACK TO THE ROOM TO HAVE SOME CHICKEN! YOU CAN JOIN ME IF YOU WANT TO!". Again, the visible startle this time with added panicky peering in my direction and then he turns around and hurriedly heads back from where he came from. I think that's weird but I wondered if maybe he forgot the coffee he said he would bring over or something like that. I gather the dogs up and head back to the room to wait for his return. About 20 or so minutes later I'm wondering where he is so I text him asking him if that was him that I just yelled to from the field? He doesn't know what I am talking about but promises to see me in a minute. Once he's present I tell him what transpired. He pauses, looks at me and says, "This is a good example of why you are thrown out of places. There is some poor guy at home right now wondering what the hell just happened, who the crazy bitch throwing the poor chicken around is and whether he should change his nightly routine to avoid having that experience again or simply call the police and let them deal with it".

Okay to throw about fields


NOT okay to throw about fields


This afternoon, after some (rather successful) shell searching and chicken throwing I got a little bored and thought I would try to find some alligators and hopefully see the smallest post office in the world. Alligator Alley seemed my best bet for the alligators and I know the smallest post office is on route 41 which runs under Alligator Alley and I can do this nice big loop and head on home. Perfect. There were alligators EVERYWHERE! Seriously. Two small issues with Alligator Alley:

1.) The speed limit is 70. Everyone is driving at least 10 - 20 miles over that. Minimum. Pulling over and jumping out of the car was risky and I hate coming to a complete stop from 80 mph.

2.) The fence. Oh the fucking fence! You have to be shitting me! It's this massive 10 foot chain link fence with barbed wire at the top. There is no getting a decent picture of an alligator with a 10 foot fence in the way.

Since I usually research the places I am going to prior to getting there, I know that route 41 doesn't have said fence. So how bullshit am I that I didn't just take 41 to begin with? Not that bullshit, because the day was stellar and the music was good, but you get the drift. Also, to get to 41, you have to cut down route 25 and that has the promise of panther crossing. No, I didn't see a panther but I was enthusiastic and hopeful with camera ready and eyes peeled and unblinking.

Route 41 is alligator heaven. Just a guardrail and alligators. Perfect. Well, prefect until you get out of the car. Every time I stopped and jumped out of the car to take a picture of a monster gator across the little river, I noticed another one on my side of the road next to the guard rail. I tried, I really did. There is something about a 7 foot gator that no amount of trying can get your brain to cooperate damn it. I was in and out of the car about 900 times before I noticed the bridge with alligators all around it. HA HA! Beat that stupid nature! The JH is once again victorious! These dudes are seriously huge and ominous. I wish I had something for size reference but throwing things at them didn't seem like the best of ideas... For the most part they just lie there looking dead. I moved towards one of the larger more unconscious looking ones and he slowly and calmly opened his eye and just looked at me as if to say, "just a little closer would be perfect!" and I beat a hasty retreat. They just don't care. They don't care that you are there. How creepy is that? I mean shit man, a bear would rather leave than deal with our crap. To have something just sit there while you approach it gives me the heebies. Phone reception was a no go. An alligator attack with me making a tourniquet and then calling for help is categorized as not super super awful but to be avoided at all costs. On the flip side, an alligator attack with me making a tourniquet and then hoping for the best and bleeding to death because no one can see me from the road IS super super awful and to be avoided at all costs. I can only hope, were that to happen, I would have it in me to video tape the whole rancid ordeal. Wouldn't that be something?

Here are my safe on the bridge alligator pictures for your viewing enjoyment:










I have a video of them as well, but I cannot for the life of me remember how to convert it from fucking AVI so you'll just have to go with the still version.

As for the smallest post office in the world... I never even noticed it. Just typing that makes me all kinds of contrite because of the way it seeps irony all over the screen. I had been driving for hours staring in awe at the wildlife. Did I mention the birds? If I lived in FL I would be an avid bird watcher. The birds are wondrous! So while searching for the alligators and cheering at the birds I drove right past the post office... Maybe next time.

Shhh... it's a secret

Now I have always said that secrets are for child molesters and also that they don't make friends, but I have an anonymous secret admirer. I'm pretty pumped about this...

Remember rotary phones? OR I <3 Egyptians

I just unloaded about 3 million pictures from my phone. I spent the whole day across the street in the field with the dogs throwing the chicken and looking for shells (more later) and I had forgotten how the sun wipes you out. You can do literally nothing in the sun and still be tired after. It always kind of freaks me out. Along with everything that freaks me out. Which is most things...

No more need to "dress appropriately" for the weather!


We hate you when you don't allow us to beg.


I finally found a touch free car wash. I hate the brush car washes. I have lost so many car pieces and gotten so many swirly scratches that I stopped using them. The Scion is better than that. So after searching fruitlessly I finally find one up the road a ways and go to it. As soon as the green arrow please pull forward buzzer goes off all these birds start coming into the car wash. It was surreal and I got a little worried about their well being until I started taking pictures. Then I jumped back into my car and pulled forward figuring they probably knew all about this kind of thing. They did. Sad part is as soon as I jumped out of my car with my phone, most of them left. There were these rad little storks with super long curved beaks that I am having a hard time identifying and all kinds of heron looking things that were to skittish to get a good look at. One of the storks stuck around along with the freaky red faced friends which I am guessing are Muskovy Ducks. The others bailed out. I'm guessing most people don't leap out of their car when they fly into the car wash...

Let me tell you it's always cool, and the boss don't mind sometimes if ya act a fool!


Close up of the red faced dude


While at the field today I noticed there were small shells here and there. It struck me as strange because the beach is about a block away so I looked harder and saw they they are all over the place. Never one to lose and opportunity I collected a mess of them and I have them soaking in a cup of water (see below) to hopefully loosen the dirt that is up inside a lot of them. No one is living in them so I am going to rinse them all out and once in AZ I am going to make a neat little mobile of them. When the breeze hits the mobile it should make a nice quiet non intrusive tinkling noise. It'll also be totally out of place in the low desert. Perfect. I'm going to look for more shells tomorrow. They're super pretty and along with the spiral brown/purple ones, there are also white snail looking ones, some about the diameter of a quarter. The larger white snail shells are far and few between, but I have hope and tunnel vision like nothing you've ever seen. I'll find every last whole shell that field has to offer or my name isn't Oscar Samuel.

She sells sea shells by the big grassy field


Oooo... I also located a nifty dog boutique/grooming shop right around the corner that sells Jim and Tab's food. He says he does daycare and as much as I don't like the idea of leaving them anywhere, this place is cage free and he gave off some very awesome, very gay vibes. He was super nice from the get go. I might try dropping them there for a couple hours so I can enjoy the beach. It's peak season so dogs are frowned upon when regarding the beach. But tomorrow is supposed to be perfect and I wouldn't mind a little surf time with the two legged company I keep. I bet this guy has never received a frantic phone call every 10 minutes with some crazy chick on the other line asking if her dogs are okay. I bet.

I get an email today that I fell in love with. Goes like this:

Did you know?...

It is said that the ancient Egyptians, upon death, were asked two questions before entering heaven:

- Did you find joy while you were on earth?
- Did you bring joy to others?

I can say an emphatic yes to both. Can you?

Thought this worth a mention OR Getting things off my chest OR It's still raining

Do you have any idea how many people take a look at Tabitha and then comment on "wow, that's really weird how one eye is so much larger than the other"? Many. I try to muster up the excited answer of only allowing things in my life that are grossly disfigured but it's just getting boring.

We never look so beautiful as we do right now, right at this moment

I love FL rain. I especially enjoy it when it shows up out of nowhere with these huge ominous clouds and booming thunder and then wooshes buckets of water down so hard that if you're out in it you're soaked in about a second flat. All the palm trees get whipped about by the gusting winds and hang their suddenly heavy fronds like a frown and the rain pounds against the ground searching for a way in, until there isn't a place to escape to, and then tiny white water rivers run all over the place making massive puddles or gathering in the gutter to scare people into thinking they can't drive as well as they thought because cars don't float.

If it stays like this today, errand day might be better planned on the morrow.

The wind is freaking Tabitha out big time. It moves stuff with hands unseen and she is so not into the unexplained. Every time the door is pushed slightly closed or oooo the blinds come away from the window, she's trembling and hiding behind me. I want it to be cute, but it stopped being that way a long time ago. In fact, it stopped being cute the night she woke me up all night long by pacing, panting and crawling onto my chest to tremble and look about in horror just in case she was right about it being the ultimate enemy come to eat our flesh from our bones while we were still alive and screaming in pain and confusion. There is no convincing her otherwise so I usually end up doing the shittiest of moves and kick her off the bed and make her lie in her own bed while doing the frantic we're all going to die routine all by her lonesome while the James and I cuddle into each other and I whisper to him that he fucking rules. At least last night didn't involve an early wake up next morning that sleep was imperative for but she did manage to shake Jim up a bit. The older and sicker he gets, the more easy he is to worry. It's sad because he used to be a rock but I have been comforting him when he seems out of it and it works enough that he calms himself even if that means standing nearby to have constant visual and physical reassurance. He's worth it. He's the dog that you could take anywhere and do anything with and he never gave a second thought to anything, so I have infinite patience with him.

There are actually people walking in the pouring rain with all their sunning supplies heading for the beach (it's about a block away) like they know something I don't. I know the entire sky is dark and rainy. What could they know?

If only life were that easy

And no the book has nothing to do with Bellerophon. This was more of an accepting mythological creature allowing a human to enjoy what it had to offer, not capture mixed with force, killing and anger.

The twilight sets the stage for my yearning soul

You know what time of the evening I appreciate the most? Dusk. For one, dusk is a great word. Not even close to Guam, which is my all time favorite because of how it feels when it comes out of the mouth, but Guam seriously only wins by a nose. I like the part of dusk right before the lights start coming on by themselves. It's a creepy I can see but not quite light and everything looks like it can finally rest. If I happen to be staring out into the dusk (which I frequently am) and the lights suddenly start to come on, I feel like I have caught an incredibly special moment that the world holds sacred because it starts hiding everything in darkness. And once you start turning lights on, that moment is lost forever because you never get today back. Incredibly beautiful sunsets make dusk another magical moment for me. One thing I do miss terribly is the AZ skies. The sunsets are surreal and I can be caught staring wide eyed and open mouthed if there is so much as a whisper of a cloud in the sky. Clouds are what make a mediocre sunset a brilliant sunset after all...

Something else that has been hammering my brain all day is the pegasus:



What is the plural of pegasus? Pegasi? Pegasuses? Why are they always white? Is it to prove they are on the "good guy" side? Did we ever question that? I won't even get into the ones that have unicorn horns. Interbreeding mythological creatures? OH! I CAN'T TAKE IT! It's like the Liger but so much worse.

Horror!


On and on my little muddled mind goes with all this garbage about the pegasus. Take the wing span for example. Matching it to a birds is fine until you take into account that birds have hollow bones. Horses don't have hollow bones. Isn't the pegasus a "winged horse"? The average weight of a horse is anywhere between 900 and 1100 lbs. Their weight depends on how much you feed them and also what type of breed they are. I'm under the impression that the pegasus is larger than a Thoroughbred because in most pictures, the people riding on their backs are usually normal sized people and the pegasus looks like a long legged heavy set war horse of types. If anyone has seen the memo that specifically states only very small people with hollow bones are allowed to ride a pegasus please let me know because it will answer a lot of my questions.

Side Note: I am only using the Thoroughbred as an example because those are most frequently used as racing horses therefor more people will immediately know the size I am referring to. Please keep in mind that jockeys are tiny little people making the horse appear much larger than it actually is.

On and on... If the pegasus does not have hollow bones and it can carry the average human (Males: 190.9 lbs & Women: 164 lbs.) through the air without so much as a by your leave then wouldn't the wing span have to be far larger than it normally shows?

I know this is all inconsequential and will never help you out of a speeding ticket or anything like that but it is based upon a book I came across as a small child that haunts me to this day (clearly). I can't remember if it actually happened or if I dreamt it so this could be mission impossible (I am familiar with mission impossible so I gladly accept this mission). I remember being in the library (I frequented the library until I was about 18 and then things get a little hazy) and coming across an old black and white picture book. Story (or pictures, whatever) goes that there is this young boy who is having hard times (can't remember his afflictions but they were young boy afflictions, not sure if that helps) and he goes into a field where he comes across what he believes to be a black horse. I don't know if the "horse" took pity on him or what but then WAHLAH THAT'S NO HORSE and they fly all over the place (even into space) and the once sad little dude has the time of his life when he needs it the most. I look for this book incessantly. I never find it. It's frustrating to say the least. I really hope it wasn't all a dream...

Today was rather successful. There is a large (an acre I'd guess) undeveloped piece of land across the street that is kind of fenced in so the dogs and I went over to do a little off leash fun. I threw the rubber chicken for Tab and kept my eye on Jim (who seems to be intent on dancing in the street) and just generally had a blast. Then I found a PetCo and bathed these filthy beasts and found some massive crunchy broth basted bones in the sale bin. Now they are fresh smelling and virtually shed free and happily gnawing their greasy meaty bones. Heaven.

Tomorrow I might try and find a car wash. Goals and aspirations.

Mooooom! She's doing it again!!

The itch started again. You know the one. It's the one that tells me I absolutely MUST pack all my things into a vehicle and drive across the country. The good news is that I have a much smaller vehicle this time around. The super good news is, I can pack like a motherfucker so that little toaster is jammed full of my worldy belongings. Interestingly enough when I made the "list of things I use frequently" it wasn't very long this time around. Maybe I am finally adapting to this gypsy shit? I read somewhere that it's important to have goals and aspirations so my goal is to be able to to live out of one small duffle bag for the rest of my life. Sadly, I am a chick and that is all but impossible. I also feel the need to take dogs everywhere I go. So maybe two small duffle bags and a dog food container? Nah. My car now holds all my clothing (folded and hanging) that I didn't donate (good bye purple sweater, I hope someone can love you as much as I did), toiletries, craft things (paints, brushes, charcoals, small sketch pad, beading things, etc.), dog things (coats, beds, food, collars & leashes) and grooming equipment. Believe it or not, this is who I have become over the years. That's me in a nutshell. Or that's me in a Scion. Whatever. There is a certain level of pride I get when I think about how easy it is to move me and I don't know whether it's misdirected or what but it's a nice warm feeling and I am loving it. Don't get me wrong, there is other stuff still sitting at my mother's just waiting for the moment where I settle in somewhere for life. Like the old still functioning Grundig floor radio. It's not something you give up but it's also not something you need to heave around with you... I don't care how great it sounds.

Please don't be mistaken, I am 100% totally aware of how crazy I seem as I ricochet back and forth across the US. I am also willing to accept who I am and move on with a smile. I should list it as a strength on my resume: Forgiving myself. Maybe put it with the hobbies next to ballroom dancing and shark hunting? Either way, I have unfinished business in AZ and I am going back for some closure and hopefully some future. Time will tell either way and I am not one to plan or get all hyped up about the years to come. I never have been. This might bite me in the ass when I am older but I seriously doubt that...

I headed away from the unforgiving cold of MA. I can't take it. I don't know why I thought I would be able to take it. I fucking loath the winter. LOATH. And there I was shoveling snow knowing I was not doing the right thing. I won't even mention the dysfunction happening around me that has nothing to do with snow. No, it was the cold that broke the camels back. And those camels that live in the snow? They're liars. They are living out this delusional life because at some point their elders did something completely unforgivable and now they all have to suffer the price because they told each other the lie for so long that no one can see past it. See how forgiving yourself could have helped them? I was born in the summer. Staying somewhere that has winter is going against the very stars themselves. I'm not into taking on the zodiac.

My dad thought it would be nice to see me while I am driving all over the world, so I took the shortcut to AZ through FL. The dogs and I are in Pompano Beach FL for the next two weeks and then I shall head on over to good old Phoenix. At least this time around it's the winter and I won't be driving into 1,000 degree weather. I'm literally breaking a theme. Is that wrong of me? Themes are awesome to set and tough to break. It could be my new super power. Captain Theme Breaker or what not. No capes.

I'm grateful I have dogs. I'm pretty positive dragging kids back and forth across the US is considered abusive after a certain age. The dogs are taking it great. Jim is all doped up on his new meds and that stresses me out but he's doing wonderfully all things considered. Tab takes everything in stride and only freaks out in traffic. I can't begin to tell you how shitty it is to have a dog panting like it's going to drop dead while sitting in gridlock traffic. But hey man, I hear her, traffic blows.