Let's jump this plot line ahead. This ole trailer blog needs a change of scenery. So... let's do this thing already. The Beautiful Beast is scheduled to roll outta Salem, Oregon on the morning of June 2.
That's right. No more nail biting. No more damn reasons why this does not make fiscal sense, I can't leave my daughter, etc. Hell, if I'm waiting for the "right time" both the trailer and I will go back to the earth the ugly way.
I blame/ credit my friend Anjanette. On a trip to the beach she got me all riled up about the trailer trip, peppering me with questions and claiming she would drive the damn thing herself. Now, I know Anj, and seriously: she is triple booked at all times. Nooo wayy that gal was gonna find 10 days to meander across the mountains in a fine land yacht.
But the fire was lit. So I started called the squad (remember my Chickens with Black Belts?) and demanded, "Well?!". Active recruiting had began.
About a week later, I woke up in a cold sweat. 2,500+ miles. Through the mountains. With people who TRUST me. When I have no, zilch, nada idea how to pull this off.
Desperate, hushed phone calls ensued.
My new recruits were stunningly unimpressed with my attempts to derail this thing. In fact, they all basically told ME to Go to Hell if I thought of changing the plan at this juncture. Git off the phone with them, they said, put on the proverbial Big Girl Panties (that ones for you, Janell) and start mapping the route and booking the campgrounds. Qwit. Yer. Bitchin.
So, it's On. My darling cousin Tiffany is in for the whole enchilada. Laura will see us off the west coast. Mary will pop over in time for what AAA calls "Indian Country". My girlfriend Roma in Utah has real beds and showers for us when we show up. And Alex R. will fly in to Albuquerque full of enthusiasm and spunk to get us through the Lubbock- Austin- Home piece.
Wheee.... 10 days, a passel of gals, a vintage trailer, and the open road... this outta be GOOD.
That's right. No more nail biting. No more damn reasons why this does not make fiscal sense, I can't leave my daughter, etc. Hell, if I'm waiting for the "right time" both the trailer and I will go back to the earth the ugly way.
I blame/ credit my friend Anjanette. On a trip to the beach she got me all riled up about the trailer trip, peppering me with questions and claiming she would drive the damn thing herself. Now, I know Anj, and seriously: she is triple booked at all times. Nooo wayy that gal was gonna find 10 days to meander across the mountains in a fine land yacht.
But the fire was lit. So I started called the squad (remember my Chickens with Black Belts?) and demanded, "Well?!". Active recruiting had began.
About a week later, I woke up in a cold sweat. 2,500+ miles. Through the mountains. With people who TRUST me. When I have no, zilch, nada idea how to pull this off.
Desperate, hushed phone calls ensued.
My new recruits were stunningly unimpressed with my attempts to derail this thing. In fact, they all basically told ME to Go to Hell if I thought of changing the plan at this juncture. Git off the phone with them, they said, put on the proverbial Big Girl Panties (that ones for you, Janell) and start mapping the route and booking the campgrounds. Qwit. Yer. Bitchin.
So, it's On. My darling cousin Tiffany is in for the whole enchilada. Laura will see us off the west coast. Mary will pop over in time for what AAA calls "Indian Country". My girlfriend Roma in Utah has real beds and showers for us when we show up. And Alex R. will fly in to Albuquerque full of enthusiasm and spunk to get us through the Lubbock- Austin- Home piece.
Wheee.... 10 days, a passel of gals, a vintage trailer, and the open road... this outta be GOOD.
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