So, I guess you could tell from that last post, I am a wee bit out of sorts. Could you tell I was a tad tipsy, too? No matter, I suppose. The truth is, I’ve The Weight of the World upon me, with a smidge of Malaise thrown in to give it a little razzamatazz. (I’ve already explained my self-obsessed taxonomy of all of the ways I could possibly feel bad. If you’re into self-punishment, read them again here:
Urrgh. I’ve been sick, and not just allergy sick; I’m talking can-I-make-it-to-the-bathroom sick. I hear it’s going around, which only adds to a raging case of misanthropy I’ve been cultivating. Stupid people with their breath and fluids. One of those disease spreaders recently said that at least I was lucky enough to be on vacation when the dreaded stomach virus hit. It’s a well-intentioned comment I know, but really people, THINK! Who wants to be sick on vacation! I would gladly miss school to lay on the couch all day watching bad tv than waste a day of vacation laying around on the couch watching bad tv.
Wow. This is interesting: http://www.postsecret.com/
The other day I was simultaneously watching three terrible TV shows. While this didn’t compel me to turn off the box, it was a real eye opener as to what people are entertained by today. On one channel, Entertainment Tonight was doing a long piece on Bristol Palin’s triumphant return to Wasila to film an episode of Dancing With the Stars. I can’t be sure, but it appeared from the segment that perhaps Bristol is neither too bright nor too interesting. In fact, there was some evidence that all of Wasila is neither too bright nor too interesting, and that Entertainment Tonight is not so entertaining.
The other day I had a ridiculous early meeting at school and then a preposterous late meeting at the theater, so when I came home it was dark. The motion detector on the light at my back door had burned out, so I fumbled for my keys, and when I finally turned the door knob, it was all caked with mud.
We started in Omaha, Nebraska. That’s a great first line to a novel nobody really wants to read, right? Don’t hate on Omaha, y’all! There’s a lot going on there, and I’ll tell you more about that later, because I’ll be back there before you know it. Here’s just a teaser for the Omaha homage I am going to write up: Omaha is the 40th largest city in the U.S.; a dog bit me there; I met the mayor, who was drunk and looking for a baby to kiss; I met the head of the mayor’s security detail, who was stone-cold sober and looking to kiss the mayor; and people get dressed up as superheros or furry creatures and roam the downtown area for no discernible reason. What’s not to love?
By 6 a.m., McAdams was up and at ’em, busily flying all around the house, last minute packing, loading up the car, blah, blah, blah. I’m not really the type to get up before my coffee’s been delivered, but I sat on the couch and kept her company, cuz I’m cool like dat. She loaded the suitcases and the cooler and a million other things we would soon deem unnecessary, and we were off! Lest you think I didn’t pull my weight, let me remind you, I have very delicate wrists that appear to be made of tiny hollow bird bones, so the union won’t let me do any heavy lifting. I’m not up to code.
The first day we were on the road for 10 hours. Here are some of things we saw:
*11 animals “sleeping” by the side of the road, including 3 possums, 2 raccoons, 2 deer, 1 half porcupine, half badger, a baby chupacabra, and two ULFM (Unidentified Large Furry Masses).
* A sign that informed us that Le Mars, Iowa, is “The Ice Cream Capital of the World.”
* 168 bikers, some with more than one “fatback” on the “hog”. (NOTE: I’m not exactly up on my biker lingo, so please don’t stab me if I don’t use the proper terminology.) I notice that almost all of these motorcycling enthusiasts are middle aged, and almost none of them wear a helmet, which is legal in some states, including South Dakota. There is a huge motorcycle rally in Sturgis, South Dakota every year, with bikers coming in from all over and loads of entertainment; this year Bob Dylan and Stone Temple Pilot are playing and Pee Wee Herman is showing up and Jim Rose of the Jim Rose Circus is the emcee. Have I told you yet that we are headed for South Dakota? We are!!! Congratualtions to Smurp for guessing right away.
* A trucker who looked just like Charles Manson, pre-forehead swastika, who tooted his horn and smiled a grisly, psycho killer smile at us.
*85 signs for Wall Drugs, that began at the beginning of the state and followed us all the way until, well, Wall Drugs. We didn’t stop, because we can’t be manipulated by hype and propaganda (and also because we decided we’d do it on the way back to Nebraska. Something to look forward to!)
* The following signs –
I’m Senor Weiner! You know you want me! (Advertising hot dogs…I think)
Candy Corn and New Potatoes, next exit (Yum! Another roadside farmer diversifies!)
Prepare to Meet Thy Maker (This one was in the middle of nowhere, stuck in a cornfield. It freaked me out for miles.)
2,500 loose slots- you’re bound to get lucky! (For a casino; gambling’s big in SD.)
Reptile Gardens – One of the Top Ten Places to Stay in America! (I don’t even need to comment on this one.)
*One awesome, way-cool sculpture garden off the highway near Montrose. I’ll post the pictures as soon as I have the technology.
*The following towns-
Yankton (named after the famous Native American tribe that go around doing practical jokes and yankton my chain)
De Smet (home of Laura Ingalls Wilder’s famous little house)
The dog that bit me in Omaha is named Belle, so my Wild West name is going to be Belle Scar.
Before I begin, a word to all you cyberstalkers, gangstas, hood rats, bad guys, evil doers and ne’er do wells: Don’t think that I am going on vacation and leaving Casa Paradiso unprotected and vulnerable. First of all, you don’t know where I live. You may think that I live in the city recently voted to be the second ugliest city in America (Detroit, we’re gaining on you!), but I am not going to confirm or deny that rumor. Second, I have people – large, powerful people- staying at the casa whilst I am away. I don’t want to scare you, but they come from the NEW YORK area and you might refer to them as “a family”; take that as you will. The “patriarch” of “the family” is named Mario, and he’s in “construction”; that’s all I’m saying, kapish?
I am going with McAdams to ….I’m still not ready to tell you where! The only guess anybody wagered was “to take a nap.” I like your thinking, but no, we are going to somewhere magical, mystical, and miraculous, some place exotic and off the beaten track…oh, it’s going to be so fun!
So, oh boy! Today is the day my friend McAdams and I are leaving for our annual roadtrip. You may remember her from the big Montana Adventure (adinarich.blogspot.com), where we drove 7,000 miles and conquered the wilderness for about a month. Perhaps you remember when we joined the Navajo nation in the Four Corners are of Utah. McAdams is key to these trips. She is in charge of planning, booking reservations, hotels and extras, driving, heavy lifting, packing, protecting me from wild beasts and rednecks, holding my hair if necessary, the itinerary, and adaptation to my whims and moods. I am in charge of chatter, research (factual or imagined) and not forgetting my toothbrush. Each of us has jobs that are customized to utilize or strengths, and we run like a confused gender African racer, which is to say real well.
So, what fantastic destination spot are we headed to now? Is the anticipation just killing you? Can you just not wait? OK, I’ll tell you…we’re going to South Dakota! WOOOOOHOOOO!!!!!!!!