Posts Tagged ‘roadtrip’

Times I Have Almost Died: Tiremergency

I have a video of myself explaining this harrowing incident just after it happened, but it’s hard to understand me given the noise from the road and the awesomeness of my pigtails. So I’ll try to use my words.

The roads around Turkey Creek, Tennessee are actually mostly paved at this point, for varying definitions of the word “paved”, but there’s still plenty made of gravel, which Trixie was definitely upset over. She’s already been complaining about how hard it is to look cute and flirt with SUVs when you’re covered in smashed bugs, so all the dirt and little rocks were not helping her general attitude. Then, as we were bidding our farewells to the allergy-happy farmland a strange orange light in the shape of an exclamation point appeared on the dashboard. Remembering the snowflake incident, when Trixie miraculously predicted the odd snow in Houston this year with an indicator light (Bova saw it! It’s true!), I assumed this only could herald doom. Steven, being less excitable, looked it up in the manual and discovered it meant Low Tire Pressure.

Trixie’s first flat tire! From getting a big sharp rock stuck in the wheel! I assume she did it on purpose for attention, like a car version of a tantrum. So Steven changed the tire. The only major incident was when he refused to believe that the spare was a for reals tire and not just a fake one that we’d need to replace. After comparing the serial numbers with the one we took off he proclaimed Trixie to be “magical” or at least “more expensive than mine”. While changing the flat, a grizzled old man in a pickup stopped to ask if we needed some help. I told him we were good, so he offered us some Juicy Fruit and then went on his way.

Times I’ve Almost Died: Uncle T

So my dad’s oldest brother is actually named Thomas (after my grandfather, not my brother), but no one calls him that because it would besmirch a good family name. He mostly spends his time drinking, flying to Asia to pick up girls, and writing angry Letters to the Editor correcting grammar. You’d think at least he’d have some good stories to tell about all the times he’s been in Chinese prison or run out of the state of Alabama, but mostly he just tells bad jokes about flatulence. Fortunately, we don’t have to be nice to him. Unfortunately, we do have to have breakfast with him:
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Roadtrip: We Are Failures

So sometime around Minnesota Steven and I decided to cut short our–admittedly kind of ambitious–road trip. Here are the reasons:

1. Due to either the massive amounts of cottonwood pollen or possibly just fatigue, both of us are sick.
2. Tiredness
3. I’m sick of driving for eight hours every day
4. Steven’s sick of waking up early
5. I’m almost positive I’m dying of malnutrition
6. Trixie is starting to become really whiny and picking angry bagpipe songs on my iPod just to annoy me
7. We only have one Kresley Cole romance novel left to read
8. We’re almost out of money

It is not, as Trixie would have you believe, because we didn’t think anything could top Minneapolis. Syracuse, I’m sure, would have blown that carousel out of the water. I called Rob on his birthday to break the news. He said he was surprised we’d made it this far. I’m glad I inspire such confidence.

The plan was to drive South to Tennessee where, among other things, there are free relatives houses to stay at, and then to Florida. I assume Steven will make us stop to see the Coke museum in Atlanta as well.

Misguided Travel Guides: Minneapolis

I’m guessing that North Dakota and Minnesota run together in your heads as one expanse of Godless frozen tundra. Again, this is mostly true, but not as much in the summer. I’ve been to Minneapolis plenty of times because the Bismarck airport is so freaking small (3-4 gates) that often the best way to get there is to fly to Minneapolis and rent a car. We stayed in my uncle’s basement, which includes the prime attraction of his dog, a sheltie collie that can leap up to slam doors and gets unaccountably angry every time anyone unloads the dishwasher.

Since I have so much Minneapolis experience, I was expecting it to be a mere stop over instead of what it turned out to be: THE GREATEST STOP ON OUR ROADTRIP EVER!!! Seriously, Anna Baron has been holding out on us. Minneapolis may be the REAL Land of Enchantment. Yeah, New Mexico, I said it. Or maybe my low expectations only made it seem that much more amazing. The first order of business was to see Natalie, my erstwhile illustrator of The Knight, the wizard, and the Lady Pig fame:

That's my "Meeting a Famous Illustrator" face

That's my Meeting a Famous Illustrator Face

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Times I Have Almost Died: Clyde the Lizard

So while in Monterey, I wanted to see the beach and misguidedly decided to walk down an alley to get to it. At the end was, in fact, the beach, but also an odd assortment of vagrants, one of whom saw Steven’s camera and immediately said, “You want a good picture?” and reached into his pocket.

This could have ended any number of ways, but it turned out to be a lizard.

His name is Clyde!

His name is Clyde!

Then, after a lengthy discussion of Clyde’s eating habits–in which he asked us for “Florida herbage” twice, saying that he could sense we had some by our aura–he introduced us to his friend “Gandalf” who recited some poetry. Then a pimply high schooler arrived with a bottle of prescription drugs and I used the distraction to run back down the alley and not stop until I reached the Tollhouse Cookie Bakery. Steven followed along at a somewhat more sedate pace.

Times I Have Almost Died: North Dakota Animals

When forced to think about North Dakota (sadly, most people will not do so willingly), they mostly mention how cold it is. Little do they know that summertime threats besides frost bite lurk in the ravines of the badlands. Fiercest and most mysterious of these is the legendary Prairie Shark:

Or possibly some kind of root. Still, SCARY STUFF!

Or possibly some kind of root. Still, SCARY STUFF!


The only defense against the Prairie Shark is to run away quickly. Luckily, that left me energized to deal with our other brushes with death:
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Times I Have Almost Died: MY BIRTHDAY!

A birthday is a horrible time for a near death experience but, as my mother feared, the day I turned 22 I faced a twofold threat in Seattle–suspiciously close to Canada. The first was the insidious threat of crepe or nutella overdose at lunch:

The tastiest way to die

The tastiest way to die


The second was far more overt:
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Times I Have Almost Died:Cats and Seals

Of the many perils of California, none is more fearsome (to the supposedly highly allergic Patricia) than the house cat. Observe my brush with death at the hands of this cuddly assassin:

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Only pretending to be cute to deliver the killing nuzzle, cheeky devil

If not for my premeditated application of copious amounts of Claritin, I could very well be NO MORE. Or at least in sorry shape before facing the next instance of NEAR DEATH:
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