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Apr. 13th, 2006 06:27 amHeckuva sunrise this AM.
I don't know why I bother to shower and shave and etc. I don't get any prettier as a result. My cappuccino machine is acting up, leaking a bit around the handle and putting too much water into the steam. The resulting coffee tastes like the cappuccino that you can get from truck stop dispensers. Mmmm. Rockin.
Did I ever tell you that I really enjoy driving from coast to coast? The cappuccino truck stop dispensers made me think of it. We've done this cross-country thing three times as a couple, Mystery and I, and I used to travel all the time when I was in the military. It's the closest thing left to an adventure anymore. I can remember some of the most amazing things. Driving a u-haul through the black mountains while either side of the road was a smouldering vulcanite ruin as far as the eye could see, Ohio at midnight through miles and miles of cornfields, lit only by fireflies and stars, arguing at 3 AM in front of a roadside stripjoint about whether it is safe to sleep on the side of the road, or whether we should push through to Pittsburgh.
I'm not surprised by this revelation, and nobody in my family would be either. All my relatives are truck drivers. And the ones that aren't will eagerly talk with you for quite some time about this road through somewhere and how you can't be correct in your assumption of that way being the fastest route, because they just put in a new toll road there...
When my grandfather died, I drove 12 or 14 hours straight to reach his funeral, and my great uncles stood around when I got there and argued about the route I'd taken. My mom chastised them, saying that I was clearly tired, but I understood. It was easier to talk about routes and time, and why I didn't go diagonally through West Virginia, opting for the north-south interstate through Kentucky and Tennessee, than to deal with the harsher realities.
I don't know why I bother to shower and shave and etc. I don't get any prettier as a result. My cappuccino machine is acting up, leaking a bit around the handle and putting too much water into the steam. The resulting coffee tastes like the cappuccino that you can get from truck stop dispensers. Mmmm. Rockin.
Did I ever tell you that I really enjoy driving from coast to coast? The cappuccino truck stop dispensers made me think of it. We've done this cross-country thing three times as a couple, Mystery and I, and I used to travel all the time when I was in the military. It's the closest thing left to an adventure anymore. I can remember some of the most amazing things. Driving a u-haul through the black mountains while either side of the road was a smouldering vulcanite ruin as far as the eye could see, Ohio at midnight through miles and miles of cornfields, lit only by fireflies and stars, arguing at 3 AM in front of a roadside stripjoint about whether it is safe to sleep on the side of the road, or whether we should push through to Pittsburgh.
I'm not surprised by this revelation, and nobody in my family would be either. All my relatives are truck drivers. And the ones that aren't will eagerly talk with you for quite some time about this road through somewhere and how you can't be correct in your assumption of that way being the fastest route, because they just put in a new toll road there...
When my grandfather died, I drove 12 or 14 hours straight to reach his funeral, and my great uncles stood around when I got there and argued about the route I'd taken. My mom chastised them, saying that I was clearly tired, but I understood. It was easier to talk about routes and time, and why I didn't go diagonally through West Virginia, opting for the north-south interstate through Kentucky and Tennessee, than to deal with the harsher realities.
