“The land of race car ya-ya’s
The land where you can’t change lanes
The land where large fuzzy dice still hang proudly
Like testicles from rear view mirrors…”
-Cake

I am writing this blog posting at quarter to four in the morning, central time, which as you know is too early for any sane person to wake up, and quite frankly too late for me to fall asleep. Insomnia has struck me and I’m composing this in Word because I haven’t figured out just how to get on the internet connection in this condo yet. Seeing as how it took me six hours to get here, I just wasn’t making getting online or figuring out how a priority when I finally arrived, but now that it’s not quite four in the morning and I am wide awake (that’s all relative, I suppose – “wide awake” means I’m tired as hell but sleep doesn’t wanna come so too-bad-so-sad), I sort of wish I had figured that part out. At least then I’d be able to surf for frivolous smut to keep my mind occupied and maybe tire out my eyes.

Ah.

Back to the fact that it took me six hours to get here… Yeah. Six. I was actually making decent time. I slowed myself down intentionally somewhat, with a few stops just because. I stopped at one point when the gas gauge read a quarter of a tank because I’m cute and I’m female and I don’t want to be stranded anywhere with a car on E not knowing really where the hell I am, and relying on the kindness of motorists for help. Then I made a second stop because I saw a Starbucks sign and figured maybe I needed a triple cappuccino with sugar-free vanilla (and I’m sure that extra shot of espresso has no bearing whatsoever on the fact that I’m still awake). Only, I was back on the highway again before I realized that they had (gasp!) forgotten the sugar free vanilla and it was just straight cappuccino. Huh. Dammit.

Entering the city, I was going 15 miles per hour over the posted limit and still getting passed like crazy. I didn’t sweat it though, and just kept on going. I hit rush hour entering the city (dammit), and spent some time at a crawl on the expressway. Fine. Fine. I have been here before, actually, and I had enough recognition so that I knew where my exit was – and though I had a few iffy moments of thinking I had maybe gone the wrong way, actually I had not, and I totally rocked the highway portion of my trip.

It was when I got off the highway that all holy hell broke loose, and I spent the next two hours (almost) driving around the same two to three mile stretch of city road trying to figure out where the fuck I was going. Yes. That’s what I did. My husband had done a Mapquest and given me directions. Those sucked. I had Google Maps on my iPhone. Those were better, but still… I ended up calling a friend who very graciously spent 45 minutes on the phone with me as I neared panic about where the hell I was, while he walked through various map programs online at his house well over a thousand miles away. Even though after that time I was really not a whole lot closer to my destination, it was somewhat of a relief to have someone on the phone with me when after I had pulled over and put on my hazards just to give my panicked mind a chance to slow down (don’t even get me started on the fact that it took me two minutes to find my hazard lights because I have never had to use them before!), and a guy in a tow truck stopped behind me and came to my window to see what was wrong – because at that point, I was realizing I am lost in a big city and I am hot – and likely my body is going to end up in a dumpster in several large pieces. At least with a buddy on the phone, I have somewhat of a witness – “The tow truck guy did it!” But sure as I am sitting here, I was not dismembered and dumped into a dumpster. I was however led around the city for several more times following said tow truck driver as he claimed to be leading me in the right direction (Um, no – but what did I expect from a man who put an “f” in the word “north”?).

Eventually, after a terse time, I pulled over in a front of a very nice hotel on a very nice street where the very nice bellhop took my Mapquest printout, went into the hotel and Googled the directions from the hotel to my final destination and came up with concise directions that had me there within minutes (with only one more minor detour because this city for all its coolness is lame ass in that it doesn’t believe posting street signs is a necessity and expects people to just guess where the hell they are, I guess). After six hours on the road, my whole body was tense and even once the panic could subside, I still feel a little on edge.

I gave up on sleep awhile ago, and have been watching the television on mute. NBC was showing repeated episodes of the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Charo was on and I can’t figure out how she’s still alive – isn’t she like 90 years old or something? In either case, she was shaking her big ol’ boobs all over the place which I didn’t really need or want to see.

In a few hours, I’ll be meeting my former boss for breakfast, and I don’t know if I give up entirely on trying to fall asleep. The condo has a fitness room and maybe I should go find it. After my adventure on the road last night though, I’m feeling somewhat less like venturing out on my own. I love cities, yes I do – but times like these remind me just how much rural life has ruined me.

Apologizing if the font looks funny in this post – I know it looks a little goofy if you copy and paste from Word. But I just figured out how to get online and it’s not even 4:30 in the morning here, so you can be nice and forgive me.