Probably not so exciting as that song by The Nails, "88 Lines About 44 Women" ('Julie came and went so fast/She didn't even say goodbye!'), but my cross-country trip was quite an adventure nonetheless.
The great states of Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, and Colorado as far as Denver (approx. 1700 mi.) were packed into 26 non-stop hrs. Oh, and I forgot to mention that me, Steve, and all of his worldly possessions were packed into a 24-ft. moving truck w/his car being towed behind. When we first fabricated this plan, I considered for only the briefest moment that the truck might just be too big for me to drive, but I quickly discarded that idea in favor of the delusion that I can do anythg. When Steve brought the truck home and proceeded to knock over the mailbox backing it into the driveway, I began to revisit my initial reservations. After all, Steve has driven large trucks before and his backing-up skillz are second to none (though perhaps tied w/Eli's), so if even he couldn't drive the truck w/o incident, I was fairly certain that there was no hope for me. Plus, it was raining. Plus, Steve loves his car more than he loves, well, anythg. else in his life, so if anythg. were to happen while I was driving to damage the car, all I could do was hope that it was an event of enough magnitude to take me out, too. So no pressure.
In the end, I did not actually drive the truck that much (maybe eight hrs. of the entire trip), but I was sufficiently unnerved by the prospect when I first took the wheel that I was instantly able to overcome the bone-crushing fatigue that comes only when one has been awake for nearly 24 hrs. after spending the entire wk. before foregoing sleep in favor of studying for finals. I feel comfortable giving myself the title of best road trip partner ever -- and I'm pretty sure I could get a second and a third on that nomination -- b/c I am one of those ppl. who doesn't like to sleep when the other person is driving b/c I feel like they need as much entertainment as possible, esp. if you're driving overnight and they're tired. Additionally, I can read aloud for a long time w/o losing my voice, I do silly dances and sing at excessive volumes, and can occasionally hold an interesting, protracted conversation. (This is true unless you're Eli. For some reason, I always fall asleep when I'm driving w/poor Eli. Let's be nice and say it's b/c I feel safest w/him.) This is nice of me, but in this case it meant that by the time we reached CO, where I was to spend two nights w/my grandparents and my aunt, I was nearly delirious fr. lack of sleep.
Apparently the two and a half hrs. I had during the drive were not quite enough: Not only was I no more than technically conscious, I made a v. inappropriate joke at the dinner table that still makes me look at the floor when I think of it. I won't repeat it, but let's just say it involved my grandmother's Bible study grp., my granddad, and fellatio. Actually, it would have been quite funny had it not involved my granddad. Yes, there go my eyes sliding downward in embarrassment at the memory. Oh, and before we move away fr. the subject of my granddad, I apparently inherited my naughty side honestly. Ever since Pop-Pop had a stroke a few yrs. ago, it's as if his internal censor has been officially switched off. The man is positively dur-tee, but absolutely hilarious. I encourage anyone w/an interest in skiing, snow, Johnny Cash (Pop-Pop watches "Walk the Line" at least once a week), and/or dirty jokes to come out to CO w/me for Christmas so that you can be part of the hilarity. Need further incentives? My grandmother is a really good cook/interior decorator and my aunt and her husband are really funny, too, albeit in a more wholesome way. Although, they both laughed really hard at my awful joke, so maybe they're not so innocent as I would wish to believe. Anyhow, point is, my family is awesome and I want to share the slightly twisted joy. So come on over for Christmas -- they have a lot of room.
Woke up dark and early two mornings later and drove abt. 4.5 hrs. to the western edge of CO to link back up w/my convoy (our friends Tess and Randy were w/us, too, on their way out to see Tess's family), then drove through Utah and Arizona before arriving nine hrs. (and approx. 760 mi.) later in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada, for another two-night interlude. The highlight of this portion of the trip was unquestionably the water-based acrobatic dance show "Le Reve". I won't waste our time attempting to articulate it, but if you ever go to Vegas, it is worth the money. Absolutely stunning. Other events of note included Steven winning $500 at the blackjack table (!!) and some fat guy driving into the giant rental truck (oh, I am so sadly serious) and then having the gall to insist that we ran into him. A good time was had by all, but I really need to go back to Vegas w/Jennifer or Sarah or Ben and Jon (or any combination thereof). My last two visits have taught me that it's really the sort of place I should go w/only certain ppl., ppl. who would get a kick out of spending a few days eating good food, having a few drinks, and watching all of the crazy ppl., but who are also able to recognize the sheer ridiculousness of the whole place and therefore don't buy into what is essentially a superficial denizen of waste. The instant you allow yourself to be impressed by Vegas w/o also realizing that it is quite possibly the worst thg. ever to happen to the human race, it's over.
The final leg of the cross-country extravaganza involved a mere three hrs. fr. Las Vegas to Barstow, CA, where I was met by Marion, the best flatmate ever, and Steve and I parted ways as he continued his journey home. This farewell was pretty much what I thought it would be: abbreviated, light, and unable to do justice to the end of a four-year-long chapter in a relationship that best characterized as inconsistent. In fact, I was left wishing it was possible for me to have somehow ended the trip w/the drive fr. CO to Las Vegas. The 36 hrs. that Steve and I spent in that truck before Vegas were the most enjoyable of the roughly 35,000 hrs. we have known each other, at least in my opinion. We did not bicker. We talked abt. more thgs. than we had covered in the four previous yrs. together. We seemed to have, at the last possible moment, called a truce. It was one of those times where you are all too aware of its limited, finite nature, but you can't help wishing it would never change. You pay more attn. to details like the color of the sky or the shape of the landscape around you or the time when the other person finished your sentence b/c it was the first time he had thought deeply abt. anythg. you have said (even if what you said was smthg. you read fr. someone else's book).
That was where I wanted the trip to end, w/our pre-Vegas drive and a semblance of normalcy and understanding, not in the diesel fuel lot of some gas station where it is impossible to say the thgs. you shouldn't have waited until the last min. to say anyhow, and so you say nothg. at all, nothg. that matters.
The great states of Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, Missouri, Kansas, and Colorado as far as Denver (approx. 1700 mi.) were packed into 26 non-stop hrs. Oh, and I forgot to mention that me, Steve, and all of his worldly possessions were packed into a 24-ft. moving truck w/his car being towed behind. When we first fabricated this plan, I considered for only the briefest moment that the truck might just be too big for me to drive, but I quickly discarded that idea in favor of the delusion that I can do anythg. When Steve brought the truck home and proceeded to knock over the mailbox backing it into the driveway, I began to revisit my initial reservations. After all, Steve has driven large trucks before and his backing-up skillz are second to none (though perhaps tied w/Eli's), so if even he couldn't drive the truck w/o incident, I was fairly certain that there was no hope for me. Plus, it was raining. Plus, Steve loves his car more than he loves, well, anythg. else in his life, so if anythg. were to happen while I was driving to damage the car, all I could do was hope that it was an event of enough magnitude to take me out, too. So no pressure.
In the end, I did not actually drive the truck that much (maybe eight hrs. of the entire trip), but I was sufficiently unnerved by the prospect when I first took the wheel that I was instantly able to overcome the bone-crushing fatigue that comes only when one has been awake for nearly 24 hrs. after spending the entire wk. before foregoing sleep in favor of studying for finals. I feel comfortable giving myself the title of best road trip partner ever -- and I'm pretty sure I could get a second and a third on that nomination -- b/c I am one of those ppl. who doesn't like to sleep when the other person is driving b/c I feel like they need as much entertainment as possible, esp. if you're driving overnight and they're tired. Additionally, I can read aloud for a long time w/o losing my voice, I do silly dances and sing at excessive volumes, and can occasionally hold an interesting, protracted conversation. (This is true unless you're Eli. For some reason, I always fall asleep when I'm driving w/poor Eli. Let's be nice and say it's b/c I feel safest w/him.) This is nice of me, but in this case it meant that by the time we reached CO, where I was to spend two nights w/my grandparents and my aunt, I was nearly delirious fr. lack of sleep.
Apparently the two and a half hrs. I had during the drive were not quite enough: Not only was I no more than technically conscious, I made a v. inappropriate joke at the dinner table that still makes me look at the floor when I think of it. I won't repeat it, but let's just say it involved my grandmother's Bible study grp., my granddad, and fellatio. Actually, it would have been quite funny had it not involved my granddad. Yes, there go my eyes sliding downward in embarrassment at the memory. Oh, and before we move away fr. the subject of my granddad, I apparently inherited my naughty side honestly. Ever since Pop-Pop had a stroke a few yrs. ago, it's as if his internal censor has been officially switched off. The man is positively dur-tee, but absolutely hilarious. I encourage anyone w/an interest in skiing, snow, Johnny Cash (Pop-Pop watches "Walk the Line" at least once a week), and/or dirty jokes to come out to CO w/me for Christmas so that you can be part of the hilarity. Need further incentives? My grandmother is a really good cook/interior decorator and my aunt and her husband are really funny, too, albeit in a more wholesome way. Although, they both laughed really hard at my awful joke, so maybe they're not so innocent as I would wish to believe. Anyhow, point is, my family is awesome and I want to share the slightly twisted joy. So come on over for Christmas -- they have a lot of room.
Woke up dark and early two mornings later and drove abt. 4.5 hrs. to the western edge of CO to link back up w/my convoy (our friends Tess and Randy were w/us, too, on their way out to see Tess's family), then drove through Utah and Arizona before arriving nine hrs. (and approx. 760 mi.) later in fabulous Las Vegas, Nevada, for another two-night interlude. The highlight of this portion of the trip was unquestionably the water-based acrobatic dance show "Le Reve". I won't waste our time attempting to articulate it, but if you ever go to Vegas, it is worth the money. Absolutely stunning. Other events of note included Steven winning $500 at the blackjack table (!!) and some fat guy driving into the giant rental truck (oh, I am so sadly serious) and then having the gall to insist that we ran into him. A good time was had by all, but I really need to go back to Vegas w/Jennifer or Sarah or Ben and Jon (or any combination thereof). My last two visits have taught me that it's really the sort of place I should go w/only certain ppl., ppl. who would get a kick out of spending a few days eating good food, having a few drinks, and watching all of the crazy ppl., but who are also able to recognize the sheer ridiculousness of the whole place and therefore don't buy into what is essentially a superficial denizen of waste. The instant you allow yourself to be impressed by Vegas w/o also realizing that it is quite possibly the worst thg. ever to happen to the human race, it's over.
The final leg of the cross-country extravaganza involved a mere three hrs. fr. Las Vegas to Barstow, CA, where I was met by Marion, the best flatmate ever, and Steve and I parted ways as he continued his journey home. This farewell was pretty much what I thought it would be: abbreviated, light, and unable to do justice to the end of a four-year-long chapter in a relationship that best characterized as inconsistent. In fact, I was left wishing it was possible for me to have somehow ended the trip w/the drive fr. CO to Las Vegas. The 36 hrs. that Steve and I spent in that truck before Vegas were the most enjoyable of the roughly 35,000 hrs. we have known each other, at least in my opinion. We did not bicker. We talked abt. more thgs. than we had covered in the four previous yrs. together. We seemed to have, at the last possible moment, called a truce. It was one of those times where you are all too aware of its limited, finite nature, but you can't help wishing it would never change. You pay more attn. to details like the color of the sky or the shape of the landscape around you or the time when the other person finished your sentence b/c it was the first time he had thought deeply abt. anythg. you have said (even if what you said was smthg. you read fr. someone else's book).
That was where I wanted the trip to end, w/our pre-Vegas drive and a semblance of normalcy and understanding, not in the diesel fuel lot of some gas station where it is impossible to say the thgs. you shouldn't have waited until the last min. to say anyhow, and so you say nothg. at all, nothg. that matters.
4 comments:
your last two posts have been a bundle of joy.... but I love you anyway
Hey, you're not friends w/me b/c of my cheery disposition and you're no sunshine elf yourself -- which is why I love you! ;)
Its too bad H. Bosch is dead. He would have created the definitive painting of the hell that is Vegas...I completely understand why I am not on your list of ppl to take to Vegas. =).
And...I would be your wingwoman/road trip buddy anytime! I watched the Scarlet Pimpernel the other night and I thought of you and I also thought wow this guy wasn't that much smarter than the Purple Gentian!
oh and I wore a skirt today, arn't you proud?? It probably won't happen again unless I run out of clean clothes like today =P.
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