Derailed by thoughts of cults...2nd to last Travel Entry.
Ok, ok, I'll finish this, already. I appreciate all the encouragement -- mostly in the form of "hurry the hell up, I want more funny!" from Marianna, but still, it's nice. It's just that now that I'm here, I've lost a bit of motivation in finishing the tale of my trip. There are no more aggravating hotel billing policies, no more dirty motel bathrooms, no rapidly changing speed limits or idiots who don't know what it means to use the left lane for passing only...still plenty of crackhead drivers out there, but I'm inside so what do I care? I'm no where near the disaster that is Vegas or the Stepford communities of Redding, California; and even though I may be in closer physical proximity to lots and lots of Christers, no one has come to the door offering communion and even if they did, I'm inside...on the right side of the door, so...you see where this is going.
I just have so many more important things to do than write my last travel note for your amusement (Marianna)...like sleeping in til 11, and catching up with Dexter, Grey's, House, Fringe and I mentioned Dexter, right?? There's been football...loads and loads of football...some drawing and writing of another sort, taking the girls out for MORE football...naps and a meal here or there. You see? It isn't personal.
Now that I'm "home," I've taken great effort in relaxing properly, even if Thanksgiving festivities ARE screwing that up for the time being-- mostly I have managed to chill. I've had not nearly my fill of televised UEFA football, but I charge on in that regard and am determined to stay abreast of all the latest developments. Especially, the upcoming USA World Cup 2022 bid. More on that in another note though. I've thought quite a bit about jumping back into my book and every single time, Dexter is on...so what can I do? I watch because I'm loyal. I could stop if I wanted to...maybe that's another note, also?
Anyway, I promised a conclusion to my trip, so here goes...
After leaving Vegas, otherwise known as the 5th level of Hell, I headed east for Arizona. I made pretty decent time, reaching Sedona right as the sun was setting. However, because of a traffic clog up heading into Flagstaff, I didn't actually make it INTO the canyon until AFTER sunset. What are the chances?? If you're me, apparently very, very high. I was pretty pissed. Even in the dark, Sedona is awe-inspiring and majestic, but none of my pictures turned out well enough to tell.
On my drive out I somehow missed the turn off onto the main highway and ended up someplace between Cottonwood and Prescott - nowhere near the 17, which is what I needed to get on my way. I had to back track into tiny Cottonwood, stop at a wine bar where the six patrons were playing Magic whilst sipping red wine, and get directions from the owner who told me how to get back to the highway. It was actually a cute little pit-stop, had I not been annoyed about being lost.
I ended up getting a room in the Premier Inn, once I got to Phoenix. "Premier," I've since discovered, is Arizona speak for "Crap". Interesting, that. My wherewithal to sleep it out in the Jeep diminished more and more every night that I slept in a real bed, and as Phoenix is laid out like any other normal, rationally planned city would be, I quickly found a grocery and bought myself some soy ice cream. I deserved it. But who knew they had soy ice cream in Arizona?? I was thrilled.
Waking up in Phoenix, it was warm for the first time. And, I didn't even have to sacrifice any road kill to the temperamental weather gods that tried to swallow me up in Washington, Oregon, Northern California and Nevada! What a nice change, even if I did have to get back in my Jeep, with it's minute amount of space and sinus drying air conditioning, and keep driving. I was warm, and warm, for me, is happy. Come to think of it, so is slightly drunk, but clearly those can't go together, so I made do with warm.
There really wasn't much to see after Phoenix, though I did run into the next bunch of Jesusville signs leaving Arizona. I managed to avoid any run-ins with the culty sheep of the FLDS, which was a relief; but it still felt a bit creepy driving through areas that looked so normal but which I knew were over run with polygamous, brainwashing child-abusers. Quite similar to the feeling of driving a mere 80 metres from prisons --which by the way, are a dime a dozen in the desert. I've decided that makes a lot of sense. Too bad the government can't be bothered much to redirect FLDS leadership (and the like) to those same desert prisons.
Occasionally, I'd pass something picturesque, but mostly it was a lotta nuthin'. I reached El Paso by about 8:30p and had to immediately go and fill a prescription at the local 24hour Walgreens. Initially, the pharmacy tech tried to tell me I'd have to wait 'til morning to retrieve it, but sometime between me pulling out my mobile to call my Seattle pharmacy myself while waiting at his counter, and sharing a few choice words that I think included "bullshit" and "CVS," he realised he'd been confused and that it would take a mere hour instead.
I'm feeling that there is a distinct lack of funny in this note so, I think I'll close and try to finish the rest tomorrow. Maybe thinking less about the culty culture behind some of Arizona's counties will be more humourously inspiring? Ciaocito, amici mia...
