Where I Come From

Lyn Blue

Sat, 09/04/2010 - 22:06

Wowzers. That was a freakin' long ass drive. I think we drove 16 hours. Animals were in the back so we couldn't scoot our seats back too much. I thought my butt was going to fall off... sure wouldn't be much more of me left.

Turns out, Marge's relatives were real nice... they were even cool with my dogs... which brings me to this... I was trying to not be 'judgemental' anymore. But I realized that I judge others by the way they treat my animals! I can't help it... if they're nice to them, they're like insta-cool to me (well, kinda). And if they're jackasses, or can't bend down to say hello, it's an auto insta-assface from me. Yep, I look at them and all I can see is Assy McGee!

We stayed at this little motel in Snyder one night. A lot of male workers stay there during the week, according to the motel worker. It was the only time I'd ever wished I was less attractive. It was creepy walking the dogs. Nothing but a slab of concrete and patch of dried weeds for them to piss on. I don't think my oldest dog pooped for two days. I don't blame him - I didn't either!

I hate going to the bathroom in strange motels, or anywhere else for that matter. Especially when the other person can hear you go, 'cause it's dead quiet. So stupid!

But the trip was OK, I guess. Lots of tiny old towns on the way, like Sunshine, which was kinda boring, and then there were long straight roads of nothingness that'll do mind tricks on you. You just sorta lose track of time... it's all the same out there on those interstates.

I'm not sure which was worse... knowing I was going all that way for a funeral, or knowing I had to eventually come home.

I don't think we turned the radio on once. Marge likes to talk, so I mostly listened to her the whole time. After almost 20 hours, I learned a lot about her family and where she comes from. Shit, I think she may have even figured out where I come from, too.

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