Clarity?

I let the dogs out and I stand on the deck.  The air is warm and wraps around me like a big, southern hug.  I watch the flashing lights gliding across the yard.  The fireflies are magical.  I gaze at the charcoal colored sky and imagine the stars falling on me like snow.  I am in another world, another space, and another time.  I am calm and appreciate my being.  Moments like this shape who I am and who I will be.  I inhale deeply and step inside the house exhaling slowly.  Happiness.  

Carnies and Road Rage (Kentucky's Finest)

The local fair is even smaller than I expected.  Well…  The carnival is small however the people are not.  I look around to see Middle America at its finest.  God dammit, I blend in.  The fact that I’m inhaling a funnel cake and deep-fried onion probably doesn’t help.  Fuck it, I’m at a fair, I’m eating crap if I want to.  Tomorrow, I will diet…probably…maybe…not. 

The live music and fireworks have ended and the masses are beginning to exit.  We find the car, let two cars in front of us and I start thinking of how I feel no homesickness.  Tonight was a good night.  Another woman tries getting out in front of us but we stand our ground.  It would take us all night to get home if we let everyone out.  The weather is cool and Amber (7 months pregnant) has the driver’s window down.  Our girl talk is interrupted by a short, mutant who is now screaming through Amber’s window.  The mutant shouts, “DID YOU NOT SEE ME!?!?  I WAS ABOUT TO HIT YOU!  I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU GET OUT OF THIS FUCKING CAR!  I WOULD FUCK YOU UP!”  There were more "Fucks" and "Bitches" then she left.  Really?  Lady, is your life so boring that you have to get violent in a parking lot just to get some thrills?  She has an eagle as her front license plate.  Kori explains it is an army logo.  I immediately think of the lifeless army wives at the commissary.  She must be one of those.  We watch for her car on the highway to make sure she is not following us.  All of us think of things we wish we had said. 

I am in bed and my stomach is not happy with me.  The funnel cake and deep fried onion are taking their revenge.  Tomorrow, I will diet…probable…maybe…not.

*I am not bagging on all army wives; I have met some amazing ones.  These are just observations.

Adjustments and Air Mattresses

Melanie and Danielle are not here anymore and I am going to have to get used to it.  This will be my home for the next 9 months or so.  My anxiety is high and the tears come so easily.  Why is this so much more difficult than Cambodia?  There, I had only one day of homesickness.  Here, it seems it will last forever.  I cannot let Kori see me sad because I am here to help her.  I go into my room and try to make it my own.  I buy hangers and attempt organizing my clothes I hang my father’s ashes on my door.  I convince myself that he will protect me from evil spirits.  I waste time stalking on Facebook and reigniting my Sabrina The Teenage Witch obsession.  I’ve yet to buy a mattress so I plan to use Kori’s airbed.  Shoving it down the hall, fully inflated, I am surprised nothing goes wrong.  It’s placed in my room.  Hmmm…. It needs more air.  I look at the black cap as if it were some being from another planet.  What is this monstrosity?  My ancestors, the apes, live strong within me and soon common sense makes an appearance.  I twist.  *CRACK!*  Fuck.  Air is pouring out and the more I try to mend it, the more it deflates.  I remember I still have some zebra print duct tape.  It doesn’t work.  Kori walks down the hallway and I explain I will be sleeping on the couch. 

That night, the stormy weather steals my sleep.  It is late and I listen as the wind howls and the rain pours.  Just as my eyes start to close, the back door creaks open.  GREAT!  THIS is how it will happen.  A murderous Amish farmer has come to steal my innards and fingernails.  I am going to die on a couch in Kentucky.  Shit, I didn’t delete my Internet history on my phone.  Hopefully people understand that I was looking up that stuff for research…  Two minutes pass and I have yet to be killed by the psycho Amish farmer.  I get up, shut the door and dead bolt it.  Not today, Mister…Not today. 

I dream Macklemore is cheating on me and Ryan Lewis is laughing at me.  I tell Ryan Lewis that he is slimy.  I say that he is the equivalent to Rob Lowe in “Wayne’s World.”  I’m proud of my comeback.  I awake, hating Ryan Lewis.  He’s useless on stage.  He’s like Ryan Seacrest’s old American Idol co-host.  I Google, “Ryan Lewis STDs.”  Hoping to find some real dirt.  

I sleep…again…  

Nashville and Goodbyes

Opryland Hotel and Resort is a magical place.  It reminds me of Hawaii or Mexico.  It is a true treat after staying in the cheap motels during the road trip.  We pass indoor waterfalls and extravagant Koi ponds as we walk to our room.  The room is clean and I fear not sitting atop the comforter.  Naturally, we are starving so we take the shuttle bus to the mall.  A Canadian bachelor party tries to make conversation with us.  Kori is the only one who really talks back.  She explains we are from California and they ask us if we smoke pot and if we surf.  I’m not wearing any makeup and I’m almost positive my side fat is spilling over my tank top.  I shell up when I decide I look like Sloth from the Goonies and continue to not make eye contact.  We say our goodbyes and head to the restaurant.  FOOD.  Feeling inadequate and ugly, I find happiness in my pasta and bread.  After dinner we go back to the Hotel and begin our hours of showers, makeup, hair and drinks.

Nashville is intense and humid.  We spot a club and dance together for a bit.  Danielle and I keep going while Kori and Melanie get drinks.  There is no air conditioning and reminds me of Cambodia.  I think of my little Sam Nang and wonder how he is and then tell myself to look up if Americans can adopt from Cambodia yet.  I continue dancing while making adoption plans in my head.  Danielle and I get into a weird dancing sandwich.  We take the boners against our butts for a good 5 minutes and then shimmy away.  The night ends earlier than expected when we agree that pizza in bed sounds better.  The cab ride home is tense because Kori gets sad.  I hold her and tell her everything will be okay.  We binge eat the pizza and crash. 

The following morning we lay by the pool and I lecture everyone to put sunscreen on.  Brett (Kori’s Husband), messages her and the mood lightens.  We leave not too long after and I grab a shirt from the gift shop.  I couldn’t pass up 4 cats wearing cowboy hats.  The drive home is smooth because we make Kori promise she will not have road rage.  That night we order Chinese food and watch scary movies.  I start getting nervous that Danielle and Melanie are flying home the next day.  Reality slowly seeps into my brain.

Cracker Barrel the next morning is as expected.  Three of us order pancakes and we all stuff our faces.  I purchase my giant Smarties and we leave.  Soon we are at the airport.  I am saying goodbye to my friends and I am trying to conceal my panic attack.  They leave and Kori and I go home.  She goes to sleep and I cry.  I text my mom with worries that I’ve made a horrible mistake.  I take a Xanax and begin to feel calm.  What now?

Bulls, Boys and Beer

It is Friday and we will eat.  The girls and I get a late start at Cracker Barrel.  It is exactly like the one I had been to in Upstate New York.  It has average food with interesting, country atmosphere.  On our way out we browse the merchandise.  I immediately hone in on some comically large Smarties, thus starting an embarrassing Smarties addiction.  Kori drives us around town and we outright tell her she wouldn’t be allowed to road trip with us.  She knows she’s an intense driver and understands we say this with love.  We go on Base at Fort Campbell and take a look in the commissary.  I notice lots of women with kids.  I notice lots of pregnant women.  I notice couples.  I notice unhappiness and stress.  Obviously there are exceptions to these mopey tired families but this lifestyle does not appeal me.  I suppose I am not strong enough to have a husband who goes to war.  I am not strong enough to have children with a man who may be gone for a year or more.  I would prefer a man who is there during my pregnancy and who rubs and experiences my belly growing.  I appreciate what our soldiers do for our country but I don’t want soldier penis inside me for fear of conception. 

…Wow, I never thought I would learn so much about myself at a grocery store... 

It is Friday and we will party.  We are prepared for the night with our bellies full of Mexican food and an extra large bottle of vodka in the freezer.  The music is bumping while we get ready for the night.  I straighten my hair within a half hour and I’m thoroughly impressed.  Kori’s friend Amber is kind enough to be our designated driver.  Because it is legal here, we bring drinks in the car and party all the way to Electric Cowboy.  I wear boots that are too small for me but I got them at a thrift store and I love them.  Electric Cowboy is essentially an empty warehouse.  The music is loud and the drinks are cheap.  “Heyyy Pocahontas!” a guy yells at me.  Okay, I can die happy now.  We pass the mechanical bull and go straight to the dance floor.  We slow dance, line dance and hump dance a little.  An army boy comes up to Danielle and I and asks us if we are lesbians.  He tries to convince us he is gay and ultimately proves it.  His friend thinks something is funny and proceeds to spit beer all over us.  I hug the gay soldier and hope he will ask me to be his best friend.  This doesn’t happen and we continue on with our seemingly lesbian ways.  I guess it’s unusual for girls to slow dance with each other here.  Pff, I love to dance and I’m not waiting for a creeper to come up to me, grab my vagina and expect me to dance with him.  Dancing with my girls is a lot less “rapey.”  Amber picks us up and the night nears an end.

It is Friday and we are drunk.  Stumbling in the house, Kori turns the air conditioner on full blast.  We awake the following morning to an unlocked front door and a 60-degree house.  After battling our hypothermia and mild hangovers, we pack for Nashville.  I wonder what the city has in store for us…

Road Trip: Day 4

The Texas/Arkansas state line is an interesting one.  There is a post office that sits in both of the states.  Vicky gets dirty looks when she sits in a bush while we take her photo.  People just don’t get her…their loss. 

We make it to Memphis in good time and grab a bite to eat at a famous BBQ dive.  I order a BBQ chicken sandwich topped with coleslaw.  It is like heaven in my mouth.  I try the girls’ sweet tea and cringe.  Fucking disgusting.  With our bellies full, we set forth to explore more of Memphis.

As we pull into the National Civil Rights Museum lot, I see The Lorraine Motel.  The sign is tall and hovers over me like its alive.  We see a film, showing clips of Civil Rights movements, and then proceed to the display area.  I notice a tall, African American man in uniform peering into a glass case.  They have what looks like the original wallpaper hanging.  As he looks into what was Dr. Martin Luther King’s room he puts his hands behind his back.  Barely touching the wallpaper with the tips of his fingers as if he does not want to be noticed.  I get the chills and walk on.  If you ever have the chance to see this museum, I highly suggest going.  The feelings that wash over you, as you read and see and touch are powerful yet indescribable.  We exit quietly and solemnly. 

Our directions take us through the back streets towards my friend’s house.  We decide to be clichés and listen to the “Elizabethtown” soundtrack during our final leg.  The yards are large, the fences are sparse and the roads are narrow.  It seems as though raindrops have just kissed the trees and foliage.  Everything is glowing.  We inch closer and get Katy Perry’s “California Gurls” blasting so loud my dear friend, Kori can hear from inside her house. 

We arrive and linger in our success from driving 40 hours.  There are hugs all around and sigh of relief.  “Bathroom,” I say.  Kori has two large mattresses in the middle of her living room.  The house is cozy and welcoming.  We share the stories of our travels and insist Vicky sleep in the house.

I am 25 and I just drove from Sacramento, CA to Oak Grove, KY with two amazing girls.  We will share this experience for the rest of our lives.

Road Trip: Day 3

The International UFO Museum and Research Center is just as I expected.  It is weird and fabulous and Vicky agrees.  When the museum attendants aren’t watching, I place Vicky in a “restricted” zone and snap photos with her by the aliens.  The gift shop is where I buy an alien bobble headband and a magnet.  We leave promptly after shopping, as we need to stick to the itinerary.

There is lightning strike after lightning strike during the drive out of New Mexico and through Texas.  We stop for gas in a small town in Texas.  I see some interesting people and start to wonder if they’re mutants.  Shit, THIS is where it will happen.  We’ll be truckin’ along and BAM!  Sharp spikes in the road will blow out our tires.  We will call a local tow truck driver who appears to be normal and he will drive us to his house.  He’ll offer us some lemonade and we will stupidly drink it, not knowing it’s laced with drugs.  As I start feeling woozy, I’ll glance over at the cellar door.  It will be cracked just a tad and a mutant will be slightly creeping out.  That’s when the driver will hit me over the head with a frying pan.  2 hours later, I’ll wake up with excruciating headache.  I’ll notice the mutant in the corner, eating Danielle’s eyeballs.  Melanie will be in a cage.  I won’t be tied up because they’ll think I’m dead.  I make a run for it and don’t look back.  I’ll only feel a little bad leaving the girls and I’ll assure myself they would have wanted it this way.  I will make it to the main highway and wave down a friendly family in a minivan, or so I’ll think.  My eyes will be blurry and I won’t realize it’s not a trucker, IT’S THE TOW TRUCK MAN!”

...Oh look!  We’re in Dallas!  I’m starving!  We eat at “Twisted Root Burger” and then continue our drive.  After driving almost half of New Mexico and the entire state of Texas we make it to the Arkansas/Texas border.  Tomorrow we will be in Kentucky!  This saddens me a little bit because a part of me wants the trip to be longer.  Once we get to Kentucky, I’m stuck there for 9 months.  I try not to think about it and get some much-needed sleep.

Road Trip: Day 2

Waking up is curiously easy.  Sleep the night before wasn’t the best and it didn’t help that I was nervous someone was going to break into my car.  We get ready fairly quickly and eat breakfast.  The eggs taste powdered but the waffle is tasty.  I notice that my trunk handle thingy is dangling by its wire so we make our way to the store.  The girls pick up deodorant and energy drinks while I grab zebra print duct tape and sunflower seeds.  Car is “fixed” and looking snazzy and we’re ready for the Grand Canyon.

The drive is just as I remember but a little more dramatic.  Midway to our destination I receive a phone call.  Apparently my dog, Homer is running wild down the streets of our neighborhood.  Perfect timing, really.  My brother is at school, my mother is at work and I’m in Arizona.  I thank the lady when she tells me she will put him in our backyard.  Crisis averted with minimal stress. 

I am terrified of heights and even more terrified of canyon-type heights.  Good thing we have Vicky for comic relief.  (Read “The Saga of Vicky”)  The Grand Canyon is beautiful and breathtaking.  We take photos of us in which we appear to be falling off the ledge.  Okay, I’m done but Melanie and Danielle want to get closer to the edge.  I try not to be a worrywart but when Danielle is prancing along a steep drop off, I get anxiety.  Well, she may not be prancing but in my mind, she mine as well be doing handstands and back flips…. Equally dangerous….

Afterwards we scope out The Meteor Crater.  Obviously not as large as the canyon, but scary nonetheless.  The girls walk up higher to get a better view and I stay behind.  I can see just fine, thank you.  We buy some goodies in the gift shop and an old man comments on our matching shirts.  "Bitches be road trippin', that's hilarious!  Reminds me of that funny lady... Oh what's her name...  That black girl"  Whoa...  This guy is weird.  Note to self: Show him Vicky.  "Queen Latifah!" he shouts.  I chuckle.  Thinking to myself, "Whatever dude, smell ya later."

DONE!  I think this is the end of my anxiety for the day and I am oh so wrong.  We leave the Canyon and mosey on to Roswell, New Mexico.  New Mexico highway is achingly repetitive with some plateaus and a lot of desert.  It’s getting dark and soon it’s 10:00pm.  I’m the driver and I’m having a hard time keeping my eyes open.  Must stay focused.  “Oh look!  The turn off the highway!  We’re almost there!”  I’m excited.  Then Melanie reminds me we have about 2 ½ hours to go.  Great…  This new road we’re on is pitch black and desolate.  With the exception of our car a prowling coyote and one passing car, this road is empty.  I miss all of the truckers from the previous highways.  My mind immediately scopes the situation.  This is where we’re going to break down.  I know it.  This is where the mutant people with sharp teeth, red eyes, ears on their foreheads and slimy fingers are going to eat our eyeballs and turn us into slaves.  That doesn’t happen and we make it to our hotel. 

Danielle and Melanie start watching “The Fourth Kind” a movie about a woman who is probed by aliens.  I’ve seen it so fall asleep looking at the necklace in which contains some of my father’s ashes.  He made it.  This is where he would want to be.

The Saga of Vicky

Vicky is a brunette with lifeless eyes.  She enjoys traveling and photobombing.  I've know Vicky for over 3 years now however, we have just recently become close.  Vicky is severed head.  Vicky is a mannequin head made for cosmetology students to experiment on.  Her origin is irrelevant.  She is my friend and she is attending this road trip.  She sleeps in the car and keeps the weirdos at bay.  Seriously though, who would want to break into a car with a demonic face placed inside?  Our theory:  Be the creepers so creepers do not mess with us.  Brilliant.  Fucking Genius.

Road Trip: Day 1

It's 11pm, the night before the big drive.  In less than 5 hours I will be Kentucky bound with two adventurous girlfriends (Melanie and Danielle).  Traveling through California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas, Arkansas, Tennessee and lastly Kentucky.  I have never taken on such a long drive and I need to get a good night sleep.  However, my eyelids are wide open and my heart is racing.  I am anxious, excited and there is no way sleep is coming soon.  Better get something to help…  Half of a Xanax should do.  My lids get heavy and body and mind relax.

I wake up around 4am and do the last minute packing.  Hug the animals, Mom and brother and walk out the door with tears flooding my eyes.  “This is good for you,” I assure myself.  But, is it?  I pick up the girls and we are making our way down California.  Not too long before we need a pee break.  This will be the first of many.  We make our way past Los Angeles and enter the Mojave Desert.  The drive is long and seemingly endless.  I worry about running out of gas and mutant people with pointy teeth snatching us and eating our eyeballs and fingertips.  I try to stay positive, though.

After 12 long hours, we arrive in Flagstaff, AZ.  The Hotel is quaint and surprisingly clean.  It’s definitely not a bad place to sleep for only $80.00.  By 8pm, we’re starving and we all have gas from sitting so long.  We find a brew house restaurant in town and all agree it will be perfect.  As I’m getting out of the car, a train passes at the perfect time.  I had been holding in my flatulence all day and it was release bliss.  Melanie orders a hot dog wrapped in bacon.  When I ask her how it is, she replies, “Ummm, It’s wrapped in bacon.”  I think she liked it… 

Sleep comes easy to us when our heads hit the pillow.  After a few fart jokes, we’re sawing logs in no time.  Only 3 more days to go.

The Mission

The mission is to drive to Kentucky.

The mission is to stay with my friend while her husband is deployed.

The mission is to have everlasting life experiences.

The mission is to explore.

The mission is visit the state that my Grandfather loved so dearly.