It’s 12:01 AM central time and I’m laying in bed in a shitty ass Motel 6 on the south side of St. Louis. We rolled in about 30 min. ago and I’m writing my first blog post from the WordPress app on my iPhone. Fingers crossed.
To update you, I loaded two suitcase, lap top, a case of Dew, two bags of cheddar jalapeño Cheetos, six bags of sour worms, a farting, snoring dog and a generally-bitchy teenage girl into a gold Dodge Journey and headed south to Maryland for dinner with The Muse before rolling back to The LBC (Long Beach, CA) to resume life in the same place we left in January, 2009.
We cruised down to Fredrick, MD, grabbed some dinner and most importantly, slept in a bed. The night before I slept on my hardwood floor after a day of packing an entire house into a trailer all by myself. Couch, loveseat, sofa bed and two dressers and all the damn boxes. Holy shit I was sore Wednesday morning.
I got a gift of three 12 packs of Natty Bo–a very mediocre local Baltimore beer, but one which I particularly enjoy. I woke up at 7 AM to the sound of my alarm, which was unusually annoying. I wake up to Awake and Alive by Skillet, but this morning it was straight up noise.
I woke up Drama Queen and told her to take Lucy out to do her morning business. Did I forget to mention we were on the third floor? Which reminds me, I was in a handicapped room. On the third floor. Seriously. This thing had a big ass shower with a chair. How cool is that?
The next morning, I asked the hotel manager who had the brilliant idea of putting a handicapped room on the third fucking floor of a hotel? I mean seriously, what happens if there’s a fire? It’s like the Titanic for the wheelchair bound and otherwise infirm. Apparently, Maryland law required two handicapped rooms on each floor. What. The fuck? Was it Smoke a Bong Day in the Senate the day someone presented that bill? Holy shit people.
We rolled into West Vitginia and I saw a sign which truly perplexed me. It said, WEST VIRGINIA HIGH TECH CORRIDOR. I saw this sign moments after tweeting that I was making fun of West Virginia because of the stereotype of toothless, moonshine guzzling inbreds. This is the shut you get if you follow @SxNSingledad on Twitter. That and:
Dude was tailgating me, so I moved over. He flipped me off and as he passed, I saw his license plate: PSALM100. What a dick
We had a very long 12 1/2 hour day, but needed to get to St. Louis to meet up with my blogger-homie/California original, Lisa, A.K.A. Bridget McGuire. (@4LeafCloverGirl). It was as awesome as I knew it would be and we chatted about hockey, college football, haunted houses, kids and random other shit. I highly recommend checking her out.
Tomorrow we’re cruising to Amarillo, TX before cruising to New Mexico to see my friends Liz and Deanna. I’ve never actually been in Texas to eat a meal or stay overnight, so I’d love any suggestions for a rad Texas BBQ in the area. Not too expensive, please.
By now you’re wondering what the hell the title of this blog post has to do eith anything I’ve written so far. The answer is: absolutely nothing. However, at 9:04 PM central time I crossed the Mississippi River and passed the Gateway Arch. The arch is the symbolic entrance to the western United States and I’ve driven past it a hundred times before. (Baby Mama was stationed at Great Lakes in Chicago for a couple years and her dad lives outside St. Louis).
For some reason, tonight when I started crossing the river it felt like I was crossing back to the place where I belong right now. About 10% of the stress I have right now, felt like it went away. Thank God.
If you’ll excuse me, it’s now 12:46 AM and I’m tired like a mo-fo. Peace out. Catch ya in Texas.