A 28 year-old's haphazard attempt to get a life

Miles Traveled: 593; Current Location: Roswell, NM

Initially as I was traveling today, I thought that I would begin tonight’s post by explaining that I had begun to see some “eclectic” people on my journey. I’m going to rephrase that. I have begun to see some amazingly awesome people on my journey. I have begun to see just how incredibly wonderful America and those people who live here really can be. Of course, I received the great benefit of this illustration as a direct result of my truly alarming stupidity.

I had been driving for about five hours prior to the “incident.” In that five hours, I experienced one of my favorite drives that I’ve ever taken. Leaving the Grand Canyon and heading back to I-40 to make my way to New Mexico, I went through the Coconino National Forest, which highlighted some of the most beautiful fields and open spaces that I’ve ever seen. I know some will say, “a field is a field,” but after spending years only seeing land on television, I have developed a great fondness (or obsession, depending on who you talk to) for it.

The drive through Coconino took me to Flagstaff which appears to be a very nice place, and then to I-40. After a few miles on I-40, I started to see signs for Meteor Crater, the “world’s best preserved meteorite impact site.” I wanted to see Meteor Crater, but it turned out to be several miles from the interstate, and I knew I still had a long drive ahead. Plus, I of course realized it would be difficult to top Bedrock City, and I was afraid of having set the bar too high. Instead, I settled on seeing Meteor gas station (pictured below) and continuing on my way.

I did take the time to detour through Winslow, AZ to see some of the “preserved sections of Historic Route 66.” I use quotes there because the parts of Winslow that were historic were in no way “preserved,” and the parts of Winslow that appeared to be in slightly better shape, like the Dairy Queen and Sonic, didn’t jump out at me as being particularly “historic.” Either way, I do appreciate all of the people that live in these towns throughout America, and I also think that it’s important to take note of the dilapidation and poverty that does exist here. Throughout my time in both Arizona and New Mexico (and of course this also stretches to places that I have not seen and obviously does not include the entire gigantic states of Arizona and New Mexico), I saw several “towns” that were totally abandoned – and not in the cool “The Brady Bunch visits a ghost town,” kind of way, more like “hard times have fallen here.”

Of course, this observation leads into my brush with morphing into a complete jackass. At about 12:45, I realized that it was lunch time. In the entertainment industry in Los Angeles everybody uniformly eats lunch at 1:00, and I’m still struggling with the idea that lunch could be taken at a different hour. I’m hoping that my post on at least Day 14 starts with me eating lunch at 1:30, or 12, or maybe I’ll go absolutely buck wild and skip lunch that day. Who knows, only time can say. Anyway, I saw a sign for a Dairy Queen/gas station combo which sounded good enough for me, so I exited and parked next to a fuel pump, right outside of the doors to the Dairy Queen. With all due respect, the crowd looked rough. I didn’t necessarily fear for my safety, but I did wonder if there had been some kind of ban on mirrors that hadn’t reached the coasts yet. I hate myself for saying that, especially as someone who has always whole-heartedly championed for the interior, but in this particular case, I realized that truly reaching the point of non-judgment is easier to say than to actually… well, reach.

After what happened next, I know that the Spirit of America had been privy to my thoughts and concerns regarding her people and was determined to prove me wrong. I went into the Dairy Queen and found myself to be openly irritated by the excessive wait for my classic cheeseburger. It’s been difficult for me to accept that I’m not in a rush on this trip, and that I don’t have to “be on time.” I tried to be as polite as possible, but I couldn’t help eloquently voicing the fact that “this is, like, taking forever.” The girl behind the counter was sympathetic to my plight and hurried my cheeseburger along. I quickly exited the mart, and when I saw what was ahead of me, suddenly the wait time flurried right out of my mind.

I had left my passenger side window wide open. Rolled completely down. Huge gaping hole on the side of my two-door car leaving only a person’s conscience to stop them from taking everything I was carting along with me. To top it all off, I had my camera and ipod along with a purse in the center console, in plain view. There was a camcorder, luggage, a $200 blanket that someone had regifted me, and nothing was gone. No one, in the 20 minutes that I spent sighing about my cheeseburger, had touched any of it. If I’m going to be very philosophical here, I guess it’s like if you pick up reading material off of a shelf and you see that the front is just a plain or murky green, so you assume that the story is equally bland and toss it to the side without giving it a chance… yeah, i had looked at everyone around me like that…now if only I could figure out how to say that more concisely… Moral of the story: I love New Mexico, and I love everyone here. I’m here for another day and a half so things can still go downhill, but so far, everyone who I’ve encountered both in Arizona and New Mexico has been exceptionally polite and well-mannered… and none of them have stolen from me – even when I deserved it.

Oh and in other great news to report, I got the hat! And yes, I’m completely aware of how ridiculous I look in it.

Now I’m in the market for reasonably priced moccasins….

Tomorrow is Alien City, and if you enjoyed Bedrock City as much as I did, I think we’re in for a treat! Thanks for reading about my trip!

Miles Traveled: 56, Current Location: Grand Canyon, AZ

Well, the Grand Canyon is in fact Grand.  And it’s certainly a canyon.  In fact, it’s a place that I strongly recommend avoiding while in the presence of any known enemies.  I now understand why none of The Real Housewives casts have been sent on a trip to the Grand Canyon.  On your right, you have a beautiful wooded campground inhabited by moose and other woodland creatures and on your left, you have a 4,000 foot drop off into the great abyss.  Had Axl Rose and Vince Neil had the opportunity to venture together to the Grand Canyon, I’m quite certain that our American musical history would be a band short – although I won’t predict whether that would have been Motley Crue or Guns & Roses.

As I drove up the path to Grand Canyon National Park, I was greeted by Smokey the Bear.  He told me that only I can prevent forest fires. He also informed me that the fire danger is “high” today.  This fire danger marker looked like something that could easily be tampered with, so naturally, I was tempted to bump it up a couple of notches to “extreme” danger.  I resisted this urge and proceeded up the hill to the park where I saw at least three different people casually smoking cigarettes – smoking cigarettes like it was 1985 and they weren’t in the middle of a giant pile of kindle that I paid $25.00 to visit so that it can continue to remain a National Park.  And hadn’t they seen the bear?  While I did see people smoking, and many people who, like me, realized that this occasion called for tie-dye, I struggled to figure out how to actually see the Grand Canyon.  When the lead ant in a line doesn’t know where he is going, the whole group marches along the wrong path.  A Nissan Versa with South Dakota tags was my such “lead ant.”  I joined him in blowing past the visitor center, through 3 parking lots, and 2 dead ends.  Finally when I decided I would follow him no more, I realized that I was the lone car on the road.  When you’re the lone car on a road in a National Park that attracts 5 million visitors per year, you’re not a trailblazer… you’re an idiot.  Leave it to me to be unable to locate a 1218000 acre hole in the ground that’s less than half a mile away from me.  Eventually I did figure out how to see it, and I was not disappointed.  I really recommend that every American should try to make it to the Grand Canyon.  It’s reputation is certainly well deserved, and it’s amazing to see the natural beautythat our country has to offer.

My feeling of not being disappointed however was short lived.  After leaving the Grand Canyon, I was eager to check out the offerings of the “Wild West Experience.”  With twin cowboy statues planking the entrance, I sensed that I was in for a rip roaring good time, but when I approached the front door, I found that the Western Discovery Museum was closed for renovations.  Not wanting to leave the afternoon wasted, I decided to venture up the road to another museum that I had seen yesterday while driving towards my hotel.  “Bedrock City.”  As in the Flintstones’ Bedrock.  As in, America at its best.

I drove the 30 miles or so down the road back to Bedrock City and walked in the front door to see a moose head and Native American dolls proudly on display.  I was confused.  I approached the front desk and saw a sign for admission to Bedrock City.  A woman behind the counter asked if she could help me, and I told her that I’d like to buy a ticket.  “A ticket to out back?!” she questioned as though I had just asked to share a cell with Hannibal Lecter.  I was unshaken.  “Yes.” I replied confidently. “I want to go out back.”

I think it goes without saying that I was the only person in Bedrock City.  In fact, since it’s grand opening sometime in the 1970’s, I think it’s safe to say that I am one of the few people to ever set foot in Bedrock City.  Before I left on my trip, many people told me to “be careful” or “drive safe.”  Within the first five minutes spent with the Flintstones, I realized that up until this point on my journey, if danger were going to find me, it would find me here.  There were strange doll heads in the “beauty parlor” and a series of mannequins, each one somehow a bit creepier than the last.  I went into the theater and was relieved when I found it empty.  Bedrock’s “local UPS Airmail” was the first post office I’d ever been to that didn’t feature an hour long line.  The “goatasaurus,” the only other living being in the “town,” looked at me with the intent to kill.  Each of the houses came equipped with profane graffiti. I “toured” the grounds and took many pictures (they speak for themselves) before bolting back to my car with a huge smile on my face.  Bedrock City is without a doubt my favorite thing I’ve seen so far.  Since I think that every American should go to the Grand Canyon, and since the Grand Canyon is only about a half hour from Bedrock City, I really suggest….

After my riveting experience, I headed back to the area of my hotel.  Thanks to a tip from my cousin, I learned that Arizona is the only state to still offer the Spicy McChicken on its dollar menu, so I had one of those, and now I’m resting before going to the Grand Canyon IMAX where I will pay $12.50 for a 34 minute show.  But hey, I’ve been told that you only live once.  Tomorrow I will be driving about 600 miles to Roswell, NM where I know the fun will continue!  I hope that everyone is having a great weekend, and I really appreciate all of the positive feedback that I have been receiving as I continue on this crazy adventure!

Miles Traveled: 501; Current Location: Grand Canyon, AZ

Today marked the beginning of my temporary (I hope) life as a nomad, and I am happy to report that I have already stumbled upon a couple of very crucial life lessons. The first lesson is that the Magic Eraser sponge, when used to remove scuff marks from walls painted white, really is magic. The second lesson is that the Magic Eraser sponge, when used to remove scuff marks from walls painted pink, erases the paint along with the scuff marks and leaves giant white splotches for the new girl who is moving into your old room to figure out how to handle. In other news, the third thing that I learned today is to buy the awesome cowboy hat with the rhinestones and huge cross on it…. even if it’s $20.00…. even if you’re buying it as a joke. You want the hat. And if you don’t buy it, you will stop at every Love’s Convenience Store for the next 200 miles hoping that they have the same model. None of the other stores will have that hat, and you will be angry with yourself and forced to focus on the inadvertent new mission of the trip – finding the damn hat. Finally, I learned that though I’ve held the belief since middle school that I know every word to the Barenaked Ladies’ song, “One Week,” it isn’t true. I do not know most of the words.

Aside from these ,”goofs” as I call them, I am happy to report at one day in, “so far, so good.” I temporarily misplaced the hotel information for my first stop which delayed my departure from LA by about 20 minutes, but once I decided not to panic because I would “figure it out later,” I left anyway. And I did figure it out. And here I am. I had been planning my “costume” for day 1 for quite awhile, so it was amazing to me that the day had finally arrived that I got to put on my cut off jean shorts, T-shirt featuring a soaring eagle, plaid button-down, and a hat with the California bear on it

. Believe me, I was tempted on many a day prior to my departure to break this beautiful ensemble in, but I knew that it would be all the more special to wait until today. It took on a sincere meaning for me that the plaid shirt had belonged to my grandfather, and based on my favorite family joke, I know he too appreciated a good soaring eagle. It has never been lost on me that had all of my grandparents not trekked here from Europe many years ago, I might never have gotten the opportunity to see the biggest ball of twine or world’s largest cross. I’m not sure if I will make it to either of these wonders on my trip, but thanks to my grandparents, the opportunity is mine for the taking.

As most people who know me know, I quite sincerely moved to Los Angeles because when I was 10, I became wholly obsessed with the television show, “Beverly Hills, 90210.” Seriously. Ironically, I was more broken up about Tiffani (then -Amber) Thiessen leaving “90210” than I was about myself driving away from the city this morning. I say that because when I left LA, I did so without throwing a tantrum or violently hurling a remote at the TV causing it to break into three separate pieces. So in homage to those people who had a hand in bringing me to Los Angeles, I knew that the first site of America that I had to see was the Walshes’ house from the show.

After casing the neighborhood and getting my snapshot, I felt that the potential existed for someone to call the cops on me, so I took that as a sign to officially cast off for Arizona! Each time that I drive anywhere in this country, I am again reminded about how incredibly beautiful America is. America…beautiful… hey, someone should consider writing a song about that! Anyway, I am in the hotel now preparing for a big day tomorrow when I will explore the Grand Canyon and investigate whatever the “Wild West Experience” is since it is conveniently located across the street from my hotel and next to other popular tourist destinations, Wendy’s and Texaco.

Though none of the “big sightseeing” has yet to commence, I did manage to snap a few photos of day one. Please continue to follow my progress as I explore America over the next month! And if I do find twine, I promise I will bring it to this blog first. Only about 29 days and roughly 6,300 miles to go!

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On December 12, 2010, I turned twenty-five. I was officially older than Madonna was at the release of her first album, older than Elizabeth Taylor was at the time of her second divorce, and older than Mary Tyler Moore was the day that she stood on that street corner in Minneapolis and threw her hat into the air. It wasn’t the fact that turning twenty-five made me feel old that caught me off guard about this milestone, it was the fact that I didn’t feel old at all. It was the fact that last week, when my seven year-old niece turned on an episode of Berenstain Bears, I disappointedly reported that I had “already seen this one.” It was knowing that sleeping every night with my Teddy Beddy Bear security blanket and purple sparkly retainers, I didn’t even have the hopes of a first divorce on the horizon, let alone a second. It was understanding that with a monotone speaking voice and virtual tone deafness, I wasn’t on my way to a superstar recording career, but falling short of that, it was being twenty-five and feeling like I wasn’t on my way to much of anything at all. It was looking up at the sky and realizing that I didn’t have a hat in the air.

So rather than panic about my shortcomings, I did what any other sound-minded individual would. About a month prior to my June 12th half birthday which will mark my downward slope to age twenty-six, I walked into work and quit my job. Then I told my roommates that I was moving out of our apartment in Los Angeles and decided that I would drive around the country for a month before moving to Nashville, a city that I’ve been to a grand total of one time. Then I packed up my Babysitter’s Club books, forwarded my Netflix subscription to my parents, and laughed when I started this blog and the layout that I had been assigned was recommended for “professional journalists.” As a professional of zip, I instead decided to check out the layout called “toolbox” as it seemed like a title more appropriate for someone in my position.

As I prepare to leave for my direction-less journey of my American homeland, all I can say is that I’m excited. I can also say that I understand with increased clarity how people get mixed up with “crazy” and that there is a fine line separating a bald, umbrella-wielding Britney Spears and me… a very fine line. I plan to visit all the great American treasures – The Grand Canyon, the Appalachian mountains, the house from Roseanne. And I plan to delve into our American history – Dealey Plaza, the Civil Rights Museum, McDonald’s store # 1. As if those aren’t enough, there will also be plenty of other exciting stops along the way. I invite you all to come on this journey with me – something that I’m sure I will find comforting when I’m on my 3,561st mile of driving alone and belting out “Love Can Build a Bridge” for the 987th time. Like any great detective, I have no idea what I’m looking for out there, but for whatever reason, I feel like I will find it.