Well well well, where have I been?

 Oh yeah-- I've been driving a big dog across the country in a Prius during Stormageddon, then totally wearing out my welcome at my friends' houses while I look for a house, and continuing to work the whole time as well.  Yup.  Might I recommend that if you're going to move cross-country, you not do it in the dead of winter, with a big dog, and while trying to keep up with your regular life?  Even to a sane person, this can get pretty stressful.  I will tell you the end of the story first, which is that we found a great house, and I am now just waiting for the movers to arrive with our stuff so I can begin The Great Unpacking of 2010, which I hope goes faster than The Great Packing of 2009.  Sheesh!

 
So, where was I on the narration of the cross-country travel?  Oh yes-- Flagstaff, Arizona.  After leaving the comforts of my friend Brook's guesthouse, I drove all day and ended up in Flagstaff, Arizona, where it had just snowed a gazillion inches.  I was trying to be ambitious and get the bulk of my driving done during weekend days so I could focus on work during weekdays, so that day I drove five or six hundred miles. 

Oh, but wait.  I almost forgot about how I had to get AAA to bring me gas in Blythe, because did you know they closed that gas station at Desert Center?  Yeah, they did.  Something about how an old man owned the gas station, and he saw an alien once, and then the city wanted him to bring his station up to code, but instead he spent the money on imported palm trees to shield himself from the aliens, but then he got cancer anyway, so he died, and NOW THERE IS NOWHERE TO GET GAS BETWEEN INDIO AND BLYTHE, EVEN THOUGH THE SIGNS STILL SAY THERE IS.  So, being a cautious driver, I didn't want to run my Prius out of gas on Day One of the trip, and since it was the middle of the afternoon, I let them bring me some gas.   Not a big deal, but I did just want to include a mention of the old man, and the aliens, and the palm trees, and the fact that this means that the guy from the gas station in Blythe ends up driving gas out to people multiple times per day.  So, if you're thinking of moving to Desert Center, there is definitely money to be made in re-opening that gas station, but you'll need to bring it up to code, because of the aliens and all.  Just a thought.

Anyhoo, there I am in Flagstaff, Arizona, right after the big snowstorm ends, trying to sneak my big dog into the hotel.   You know I can't be staying in a Motel 6 all alone, right?   I have to go a little more upscale, and also, I need a room with a kitchen, because I can't leave the dog in the hotel room OR in the car for very long, because it is winter (did I mention that I don't recommend this trip?  Too many moving pieces).  So, I get him up there, eat my peanut butter and banana sandwich for dinner, and then take him out to conduct his nighttime business-- upon which time he falls into a snowdrift and I have to dig him out with my bare hands.

Yep.    Baxter has never fallen into a snowdrift up to his eyes before, ok?  He needed help.  Bear in mind that the whole reason for the trip is the fact that I love my dog and I will not put him in the cargo hold of the plane.   Of course, this means I have to give him more arthritis medicine and dry him off with a hair dryer. 

The next day, we ventured to Santa Fe, where we spent the day (and the night) visiting my friend, the lovely and talented Kelly Howell from Theatre of the Mind-- she would be the famous person I was referring to in the last post.  Turns out Baxter and Kelly's dog have some kind of psychic connection.   Kelly and her husband Bill were nice enough to host us overnight, which really is a big deal when you're traveling with your big dog in tow.  For the record, Baxter learned his lesson, and stayed FAR AWAY from the big pile of snow in their backyard.  

If this story is stressing you out, maybe you should go over to Kelly's site and download some of her awesome programs.  I'm just sayin.  

Comments

[Michelle Machado]

Dude, you crack me up. You write exactly like you talk. I totally see the arms flailing, and the eye rolls...love it.

[Shannon]

The part about the dog in the snowbank just killed me. Now....I want house details.

[Ashley]

Ahh..the fond memories I have of "Stuckeys" or as I called it, "The House that Tchotchke" Built," or in some circles, "Joanie loves Tchotchke." Stuckeys are a midwest middle-of-bumfuck, staple. You can satisfy all of your porcelin unicorn and "I'm with Stupid" or "Giant bald eagle on top of American flag" t-shirt buying needs there.