Cowboys and cottontails.

I'm just going to stick to the bolded title format.

Bookstores and Computers. Well, Thursday was a productive day. I woke up early to be at the university for 8:30 so that I could get my lockey key for our grad room. After that was done, I decided to go pick up my textbooks. Walking ALL THE WAY ACROSS CAMPUS (which really isn't far at all), I get into the Union where the bookstore is. The Union is great. There's a foodcourt and everything. The woman at the door says that the cash registers are down, but I could look around until they came back up. I start to walk toward the back of the store and another woman comes tearing up to the front yelling to shut the doors and not let anyone else in. I laughed and looked right at her and said, "DON'T WORRY. I'll leave." I sat down in one of the chairs right outside of the bookstore and waited until the doors opened--it was about an hour. The doors were opened back up and I went in; problem being, the computers were still down. They told me I could get my books together and leave them to pay and pick up later, so that's what I did. I walked back to the Health Sciences (HS) building and grabbed my clients' files to go over for a while. A few hours later I returned to the bookstore to pick up my books and to meet the professor I will be a graduate assistant for. He is from Alaska originally, a fisherman, and is doing research in one of my favorite areas: narratives. WOO WOO. After this meeting I rushed back to my apartment because my dishwasher was being replaced. So that it's for the boring productive stuff.

Walking adventures. So I was bored Thursday evening and decide I would see how long it took to walk from my apartment to my building on campus. (For the record, it is about 25 minutes). Parking on campus (or even near it) is ridiculously impossible, unless you're there super early. I have been trying out alternate forms of transportation to get there, so it looks like I'll be walking until it's cold, and then taking the shuttle that's like, a block from my apartment. Anywho, I decided to go for this walk. I'm walking along, and it's beautiful. I love it here. Everything was great until I got outside of my building. Well, I shouldn't say anything went BAD, but I do believe I have a knack for putting myself in odd sitauations. So my mum calls me on the phone. I talk to her while walking for a bit. Easy right? Then I was texting my friend Colleen because I miss her like crazy. I wasn't thinking much of anything, which is the problem. When I text, I zone, and zoning and walking at the same time are not good things.

     As a side note, a few months ago I was visiting my friends Cushman and Ashley down in Ann Arbor. We were at Blockbuster looking at movies, and I was texting. When walking back out to the car, I quite literally ran SMACK into a sign. Like, bonked my head on it and everything. All because I was texting and walking. That is the prelude to the story I am about to tell you.

So I'm zoning and walking and texting and moseying and all those sorts of good things. I come to a stoplight and I've got the "not a good time to cross" signal, so I wait. It's finally my turn to walk, but wait, what is this? I'm texting. So I see there are no cars coming and decide to continue my thumb frenzy while crossing the street. DISCLAIMER: the curbs here, well there's really no down slope into the roads because there are bike lanes on every street. SO there was quite a large gap between the curb and the street. Not looking down at my feet, but rather my phone, I did not see this cliff I was about to jump off of. I step, stagger, trip on my other foot and almost go face-down into the street. Thankfully, I was able to do that awkward catch-yourself jog people do to make it look like they didn't just trip. True to form, I laughed at myself. This was no ordinary laugh, though. I was listening to music REALLY loudly (which automatically amplified my voice from what it normally would have been) and it was like this, hysterical gun-shot one chuckle that was high pitched and startled even me. That was a really long run-on sentence. Oh, well. I must have sounded like I was barking or something, I don't know. Anyone who has been around me and heard this laugh knows what I'm talking about. So I played it cool and took the neighboorhood roads instead of the main roads back to my apartment. If you're wondering, the answer is yes. I did continue texting and almost tripped a couple more times, but there were far less (meaning no) people around to witness those ones.

The demon bunny. Any of you that have seen my Facebook recently may have seen a picture of a bunny that I posted. Here is his story. I was walking back to my apartment and texting Colleen. In the middle of a neighboorhood I was just strolling and minding my own when this hellion of a rabbit darts out and nearly buries himself under my foot! It's a good thing I saw him out of the corner of my eye and stopped walking because despite the velocity he was travelling at, the timing was just right for my shoe and his head to meet. This obviously startled me. I'm not used to seeing rampant rabbits, but I got over it. I continued walking and about a block later the menace darted at me AGAIN from another direction. It was a full on attack: Peter Crazytail vs. me. This time, however, he had the audacity to turn around and look at my from the street like I was in his way (which is where/when I snapped that picture). He had this "come at me" smug expression on his scrunched little face (that's an overexaggeration maybe). I expected him to come flying out of a tree next. Needless to say, after that encounter I went on high alert and stopped texting until I arrived safely back at my apartment.

Murphy's Law. So I decided to try out the shuttle (again for timing) that runs from right by my apartment to the Wyoming Union on campus. I had to be at an orientation around 8:15, so I wanted to give myself plenty of time; I arrived at the bus stop around 7:45. Immediately, a bus pulls up. I get in and we sit and wait for a bit. A couple minutes into this sitting, the bus driver contacts his garage and says that his bus is overheating. He is told to wait for further instruction. I get a little bit nervous, but am happy that I came early because we have been sitting for a few minutes now. The garage comes back on the intercom and says to park the bus and have all of the passengers exit and wait for the next one. JUST MY LUCK. We exit the bus and I am most likely visibly distressed. I ask a nearby (foreign) man when the next bus comes and he said, "I sink a couple minutes?" Sure enough, another bus pulls up about five minutes later. I was on-time to the orienation that I didn't need to be at until 9 am anyways. So, that's good. Also, I didn't realize a bus left from that station every 5-7 minutes depending on construction. I was a bit worked up over nothing. C'est la vie.

Graduate Assistant Orientation. Was boring. We talked about sex more than the last orientation. You don't need to know anything more than that.

The Cowboy Bar. A group of people from my department decided to go out because a) it is our last week before grad school starts and b) it was somebody in our program's birthday. So we went to a restaurant/bar to begin the night and moved around from there. The first place was like an Applebees kind of. Compare it to Stuckos maybe. The next place was a hippie-ish thing attached to a vegetarian restaurant--think Blackrocks, I guess. After that we went to a place that was, well, I don't know. I guess I would say it's like Flannigan's without the karaoke. Then we went to a place that was their dance club--think any dance club in the UP. Finally, we went to The Cowboy Bar (that is both what it's called and what it is). I HAVE NEVER SEEN DANCING LIKE THIS. It's a mix of swing/line dancing/square dancing/club dancing all rolled into one and it is SO MUCH FUN. Oh, my goodness. There were some real cowboys in there, and boy can those boys move. Half of my time was spent in mesmorization of the people that knew how to do the dances. The other half was spent subjecting the people I was with that knew how to do it to teaching me. We liked it so much (meaning me and two other girls from the Midwest) that we are going back tonight. In flats. Heels were a bad decision.

In the words of our favorite little orphan Annie, "I THINK I'M GONNA LIKE IT HERE!"

:)

To Don't List in Grad School: Get a puppy, get married, get pregnant.

Another post done on my computer (I won’t have internet until Friday). Nothing very funny has happened to me lately.

Let’s sum this up quickly. I have stayed pretty busy since my move out here. First, my brother was with me. Then, my friend Josh came to visit. It was great to have the company, but it’s nice to have a few days to myself now to wind down and prep for school; after orientation today, I’m not quite sure what to make of it. But anywho, let’s catch up with what I’ve been doing. I’ll do the same thing as last time with the bolding of the topics so you can pick and choose what you’d like to read.

The Chuckwagon. So, there’s this restaurant in Laramie called The Chuckwagon. Jord and I decided to go there during one of his last nights here. When we went inside it look very Western. Like, dark wood dividers, longhorns all over, paintings of mountains and waterfalls with wild horses gallivanting in front of them, cowboy hats and spurs hung haphazardly from the walls and ceiling, you get the picture.  So we go and sit down. Looking at the menu, everything was so cheap! Like, seriously. I ordered the barbecue rib dinner ($9!) and JJ got the barbecue chicken sandwich dinner ($7!) The first course was soup or salad. We both chose salad after we found out the soup was clam chowder (growing up on the lakes, I don’t trust any seafood this far inland). The salad bar was fine enough. There was broccoli, which I was thrilled about, and some carrots and such. Our waitress would drop by intermittently (meaning, every five minutes or so) to see if we needed anything. She was the most attentive waitress I have ever had the experience of being waited on by; this may be due in part to us being the only patrons in the restaurant until fifteen minutes before we were done. Anyways, I digress (like usual). So, the waitress brings us our food after about ten minutes. I was pleased with how quickly my ribs and his chicken were delivered—I should have been more logical. Our waitress painted an exuberant smile on her face and bounded away. First, I reached for my bread. I could make a meal out of bread. This bread, however, was rock hard. I’m not saying it was old, but you know when you try and reheat a sandwich in the microwave and the bread turns into some crumbly rock type of thing? That’s what this was. I tried to break it apart in hopes that there would be some soft bread inside, but it was just a quarter-sized portion of raw dough. What was this? I give up and look to the “vegetable” on my plate. Peas. SERIOUSLY!? Who even eats peas anymore?? I don’t mean yummyfreshstillinthepod peas, I mean blackenedmicrowaveduntiltheyhavecavedinonthemselves peas. After this I try a piece of my ribs (which is only two ribs, so now I know why it was so cheap) and they are cold. I guess 1/3 of it was warm enough to eat, but they were legitimately cold. Jordy said his chicken was fine, but he was also in the same boat as me with the nuclear peas and granite sweet roll. Our baked potatoes were the only thing good on the plate and they were scalding.  I burnt my tongue, but inhaled it anyways. I love me a good potato. This entire time the waitress kept coming up to us. The service was so prompt and friendly there that Jord and I didn’t have the heart to send any of the food back or tell her about it. So, the moral of the story here is that good service really can outweigh a lack-luster product. I’m going to give The Chuckwagon the benefit of the doubt.

Denver 2.0. So on Sunday morning I had to drive Jord to Denver, CO for his series of flights home that day. His flight was at 8:30ish, so I was instructed by one of my professors to make sure I was at least two hours early bringing him there because apparently their security is crazy. That puts his arrival at roughly 6:30 am. I was also told that I needed to make sure I allowed for traffic, so to add on an extra half hour—6:00 am. I live in Laramie, which is either two hours or two hours and fifteen minutes, so that put us leaving at 4:00 am. The prior evening, Jord and I walked around downtown and looked at some of the local shops: boots, hats, university apparel, etc. That night, we ate at a Chinese buffet. We were up til about 1:30 am watching movies. So let’s review: walking around, Chinese food, two hours of sleep = exhausted. So I woke up and drove to Denver that morning. DIA was under construction, so I ended up taking the loop to the drop-off lane rather than the short-term parking structure accidentally, and had to look back around the entire airport. Thanks heavens we left some time to spare. Once inside, it was pretty smooth sailing. We got Jord’s tickets at a Kiosk and I made sure he made it through security. Then, I was on my way back to Laramie. On the way home I got a text from Josh saying he’d be there around the time I was getting back. I thought about taking a nap, and then decided not to. Josh arrives and we hmm and ha about what we should do while he is here. The only thing we know for sure is that he wants to go to Colorado. We decide to go to the Anheuser-Busch factory in Fort Collins for a free tour and tasting. Then, we figure that because Josh wants to see Denver, we might as well just go down there while we’re already in Colorado. Two Denvers, one day. So we get to Denver, and no one can decide what they want to do once we are there. I take the opportunity to go to Bed, Bath, and Beyond and Ikea; my apartment needs to be a bit more homey. These were successful trips. Josh finally decides he wants to go to a brewery, so we check out the “Great Divide Brewery” in downtown Denver. It was awesome. For anyone in Marquette, it had the look/feel of the Ore Dock, but the beer of Blackrocks. It was a good experience. I especially liked the yeti artwork all over the brewery. Driving back, we had the sun setting to our left over the Rocky Mountains; I am convinced the most beautiful sunsets in the world are out here. I don’t know if it is being this high up in the sky or what, but it’s seriously dangerous to drive during one. It’s incredible.

Vedauwoo (Vee-dah-voo). I am still getting used to the change in atmosphere out here. My professor keeps reiterating that we who are not from the area (me, Wisconsin, and Illinois) need to make sure we keep hydrated and not hike too strenuosly. She wasn’t kidding. Earlier last week she suggested that I check out Vedauwoo National Park while I still have time before classes start; aparently, we won’t have much free time until May 5. Josh and I decided to go. The moutain range and rock formations were breathtaking. Josh must be a bit of an adventurer (which I am not most of the time. Being diabetic, going too far off of trails where I’m not comfortable scares me). He wandered off once, but was nice enough to get back on the trail that we had been travelling, after I refused to take the other trail that is. I’m such a baby. Anywho, Vedauwoo was incredible, but the altitude was not. My professor asked me today at orientation if I did the hike. I said yes, but I wouldn’t recommend it for people that weren’t used to being at this elevation. I finished the hike, and I felt good once we were on level groung again, but the high points of the trail were definitely difficult. We were probably up to 8500 ft or so. The air was so dry and the elevation so high, your muscles just get tired. It’s nuts. My professor made a good comment today in saying, “picture where you’re from. Do you like beaches? Picture yourself on a beach at home. You’re what? 500 ft above sea level? Now look up into the sky, 7300 ft up directly into the sky. Passed where the airplanes are flying, passed most of the clouds; that’s where you are. All the time. You live up there now.” It made me not feel so bad about being one of the winded people after climbing five stories to our orientation room. On the even brighter side, I posted some pics of Vedauwoo on my FB if you’re interested.

Desert. YOU GUYS. It is so dry out here. I am pretty much living with a bottle of water, bottle of lotion, and chapstick permanently glued to me. Until today, I thought I was the only one experiencing this, but aparently all of us Midwesterners are having this issue. There is less oxygen in the air up here, so your body works harder. I’m not feeling the effects of it too much (only when hiking mountains and stairs), but I am ALWAYS thirsty. That might be a good thing; I never did drink enough water before.

Orientation. So today was the orientation for my program (I have my Graduate Assistant orientation on Friday). It was long, but informative. People keep saying how hard grad school is and everything, but it seemed like the scheduling was much like my last semester last year just without working on the side. I know the coursework will be much more difficult, but still. I am anxious to see how it all is. We were given our clinic assignments today. YAY! As of right now I have three clients.  SO EXCITED. After all of today’s information and overload and such, these are the things I memorized from my professor:

Three things not to do while in grad school:

1.       Get a puppy (kitties are okay).

2.       Get married. Do it before, or do it after. You’ll either do terrible in a class, or forget to order your wedding cake (they had it happen).

3.       Get pregnant. (They’ve also had that happen).

All I could think about during the last one was, “Don’t have sex, because you will get Chlamydia, and you will die. Don’t have sex in the missionary position, just….don’t do it. K, everybody grab a rubber.” I didn’t know if anyone would know what I was talking about, though. Oh, how applicable Mean Girls is in everyday life. I’m convinced it’s the most quotable movie for related situations.

Okay, well that’s definitely enough for now. Hopefully I have more exciting things to share soon. If not, I guess you will have to decide whether or not keeping up with my life is worth the mundane entries I’m providing. For the record, here is the roll addressed in the “Chuckwagon” paragraph. I’m truly impressed with its stand-alone ability.

Love y’all (also for the record—they do say that here.)

Apparently I'm a two-year old... and a long-winded update.

So, I am prewriting this post on my computer until I have internet because it has been two days and ALREADY I have forgotten what some of the prompts are that I made for myself. I am going to bold and caps lock the contents of each post so you can decide if you want to read it or not. This will be a very long post.

TIRES AND IOWA. On Thursday morning we woke up and decided to check my tires. They were a bit low when we checked, so we decided to find a tire and lube place to make sure they were filled up correctly; I am extremely incompetent in the matters of vehicles, but I am getting better. So on the way to the place my GPS prompted us to take (again with the stupid GPS stuff), we passed a Sears Auto Center, but kept going. When we got to “Chuck’s Flashy Lube”—or whatever it was called—it was packed. We called Sears to see if they would check my tires and fill them; the man said he would, “for $99.95”. I laughed and he said, “come on in, we’ll get you set up.” So I pull in. The man servicing the tires was very nice, and even moved the car he was working on to get me in so we could get on the road. Before that, I went inside the office to let the man I spoke with on the phone know we were there. He looked at me completely stone-faced and said, “Okay, do you have the $100 we talked about?” It was silent for legitimately 15 seconds, then I stammered a bit and said, “Um, no? Do I really need it?” Then he and the toothless woman at the counter started cracking up and he said, “NAHT UNLESS YA WANNA PAYYY IT.” I said, “No, not at all. Thanks.” And we proceeded outside to get my car taken care of. I thanked them, tipped the service man $5, and we were gone.

DISCLAIMER: The following story is ridiculously embarrassing, but I am sharing it because I want to keep this blog semi-interesting and I also unintentionally foreshadowed it yesterday. You’ll see what I mean if you choose to read it. If you don’t, skip to two paragraphs down.

MOST EMBARASSING STORY I’LL EVER TELL. Remember when I mentioned that there were virtually no gas stations that sold premium in Iowa? Also, that I almost peed my pants with excitement when we found one? Well, the same is true and then some in Nebraska. Nebraska is beautiful, but it’s even more vast and rolling than Iowa (I’ll get to that later). Anyways, virtually the entire state was under construction. There were a ton of rest stops, problem being, they were all closed. Well, I kind of had to go to the bathroom. Not bad, but a bit. So we FINALLY get to a decent sized city with a few gas stations and pull into a Shell—that was PACKED. I get out to start pumping gas, and Jordan decides to go inside. Well, the gas is flowing and I’m leaning against the car when suddenly, I REALLY have to pee. Like, bad. Remember when Billy Madison said, “Peeing your pants is the coolest!”? Well, I was about to become the coolest person in the state of Nebraska. I start pacing around the car. Then I start silently praying, “Please, Jordan. Please come back outside. Please. Please gas, be full so I can go in. Please stop pumping.” I couldn’t take it any longer, so I started moving around the car some more. Why was JJ taking so long inside!? Why was my gas tank so empty? I couldn’t just half fill it up, leave my car there, come back out and fill it some more. There were people waiting to get to the pumps. Eventually, I was at the point where I couldn’t even walk. I waddled to the front of my car, and I kind of peed my pants. Not like, FULL ON or visible, but enough to where I was like, “Thank goodness I’m in Nebraska.” BUT HERE IS THE BEST PART: There was a little old Asian woman that had been watching me do the pee dance for a couple of minutes, and was staring me in the eyes as I was doing this. When it happened, she started looking to others for support like, “IS ANYONE ELSE WATCHING THIS 22 YEAR OLD GIRL DO THIS!?” I stared right back at her, daring her to react, to say something. Her eyes got very wide and when all was said and done, I died laughing. I laughed right in her face. I laughed in the woman’s face who should have been laughing in my face. Thank goodness I have an awesome sense of humor. So a bit later Jordy comes back outside, the gas is still pumping. I say, “I’m going to run inside quick” and haul butt to the bathroom. I had to stop at the counter to ask the worker if my card had been charged (the pump buttons were kind of broken) and she said, “Wellll, IIII don’ know ma’am. Didja pay fo it?” I responded with, “I tried, but the buttons weren’t working.” She said, “Well I have noooo idea if it worked fo ya thennn. I can’t see nuthin’ but what’s awn this screen. Did ya get a receipt? If it didn’t print no receipt then ya didn’ pay fo it.” I said, “okay, thanks.” As I was walking away, she kept talking to me. Useless things, obviously. So I was doing the single-head nod as I was scooting back to my car. CLEARLY, this woman did not realize I had just peed my pants and was in no mood for her snootiness. With that, we left. (I told Jordy the story at our next restaurant stop. Right after he took a bite of his food. He then gagged and said, “SERIOUSLY!? I just took a bite of food. Sick, Mia.” Also, I’m sure all of you have peed your pants in adulthood at some point. That’s why I decided to share it. Whether it be a drunken accident, or just an “I didn’t make it” accident. Mine was an “I didn’t know I had to pee until I had to pee” accident. So if you’re judging a) I don’t care and b) you must be one of the 1%ers that has never experienced this humbling event. Try it. You’re human, after all.

NEBRASKA. YOU CAN READ AGAIN NOW. Nebraska was HUGE. ATTENTION: if you are missing land, I’m pretty sure Nebraska stole it. It was crazy. I took so many pictures. Something I’ve realized about cameras, there is no way to capture the vastness or beauty of something on film. I kept telling Jordy, “Just wait until we get to Wyo. Just wait. You’re going to be blown away.”  And he was. I really don’t think there is a place equivocal to this state. There are so many different land/rock formations it is mind-blowing.

NOT VERY WELL-FORMED THEORY ON ANNOYING MUSIC. So, I spent 20+ hours in the car; I listened to a lot of music. I would switch between my ipod, Pandora, and the actual radio. Anyone that knows me knows I have ridiculous music ADD. I think the only song I listened to start to finish on the WHOLE trip were the ones my broseph played when he had radio command, and “Beezelboss”, because it’s freakin’ sweet. So anyways, this trip has given me a new theory on music. There are those songs that aren’t QUITE old enough that you would want to hear them, like: Britney Spears – Til the World Ends, Usher – Without You, anything P!nk, Weezer – Beverly Hills, etc. Then there’s those songs that you hated, but now will listen to because they’ve passed the time period to make them not so annoying anymore: Chad Kroeger/Santana – You and I, anything Daughtry, some 80’s music, Len – Steal my Sunshine, etc. There’s the songs that are new enough that you still get excited when you hear them on the radio: Nicki Minaj – Pound the Alarm, Run ‘Em – whoever sings that song, I don’t know, etc. Then there’s those songs that are just old enough but are still played ALL THE TIME to be annoying: Usher – Ooo Baby (or whatever that’s called), Everybody Talks (whoever sings that), and most other songs you’ll hear on the radio. Then there are songs that just DO NOT get old. Ever: Nicki Minaj – Superbass, Foo Fighters – DOA, U2 – Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For, Skrillex – Right In/Bangarang, Operator – Jim Croche, etc. So, that’s my theory. Maybe I’ll elaborate more later.

WAL-MART, CREDIT CARD PROBLEMS, AND SHOPPING WITH JORDAN. So Jordy and I decided to go to Wal-Mart after we got everything unloaded into the apartment. I am a pretty quick shopper, I don’t really hang around. I get in and get out and that’s it. My brother is the absolute opposite of me. He wanders, asks a million questions, get’s sidetracked; I actually admire it; I think he truly enjoys the shopping experience. Which I do as well, but not when I’ve been in a car for two days straight and I just want to eat and relax. Anyways, I decided to get a TV. So Jordy (thankfully) asked a million questions and we got a GREAT deal on one. Going to check out, however, my credit card was declined. I couldn’t believe it, then I realized what I didn’t do. I didn’t change the address on the card for the bank that I worked at for two years. After I called and got that taken care of, the automated machine said I had FIVE MINUTES to make the purchase before it locked my card for good. I sprinted to the Customer Service counter and just made it in time. We left with our purchases and enjoyed a night of pizza, beer, and movies.  As a digression, the girl who rented this apartment prior to me left me a TON of stuff. We agreed on two couches, two end-tables, two lamps, and a queen-sized bed. She left me an additional TV stand, bookshelf, desk, computer chair, extra chair, ice-cube trays, muffin tin, and some cleaning supplies. Amen for awesome previous renters!

That’s all I’m going to write. Sorry it’s been such a long entry, but I’ll post about mine and Jordy’s “Chuckwagon” dining adventure and getting around Laramie next time. Love y’all!

Via points and the usual suspects.

I have been in the car all day and am tired, so this will be a very lack-luster post.

Well, this was my first day of travel. It started out well (Jord was up and ready to go when I was!). Around Green Bay we heard a weird clicky noise and realized that the clip that secures the luggage rack on the front passenger side had come loose. I pulled over in a frenzy and made sure it was EXTRA secure, and then we started to move again. I had been told by a family friend from Iowa that I need to be sure to take the Milwaukee route and not Madison. WELL, I set Milwaukee as a "Via Point" on my GPS to make sure we were routed in that direction and the GPS actually took me through the heart of the city. The weirdest thing about it all was that there was virtually no traffic in downtown Milwaukee--this was right at lunch hour, too. Odd. Anyways, getting back on the highway was not much of a problem and we continued on our way.

In Illinois I follwed my GPS's directions TO A T and wound up skipping a toll both. Needless to say, I will be online paying that fee later. Apart from that, Illinois was extremely uneventful. I would like to say Iowa was uneventful as well, but that would not be the case.

Coming into Iowa, Jord and I were busy looking at the scenery. I think we are both a bit paranoid about running out of gas (and if you saw the route we were on, you would be too). Iowa is beautiful, but the majority of its beauty is in its rolling hills and virtually endless horizons; translation, FARMS, CATTLE, AND CROPS. A gas station sign would come up and as soon as I would ready myself to take the exit a semi would cut me off.

SIDEBAR: the semis out here are crazy. This is no overexaggerization when I say there are more semis than actual cars on the highway. So far, they've all driven well. Let's hope this holds true tomorrow. I've got a cartopper and a car chockFULL of things that would not do well to need immediate braking.

SO BACK TO IOWA. We were nervous about gas. 78 miles left to empty, and 68 to Council Bluffs, IA where we are staying. My GPS located a gas station in a town called... Anica? Maybe. Cue, "Via Point".  Anways, we drove the five miles out of the way to get gas there and could not find the station. After driving around we found someone on the road and asked them. She directed us and we thankfully found it; however, they did not have premium. Now, Houdini (my Benz) cannot digest anything BUT premium. Obviously, this was a problem. So, back on the road we go. 60 miles to empty, 68 miles to go. Driving down the highway some more, I type another gas station into my GPS; a BP (another Via Point set), they HAVE to have premium, right? Well, en route to this gas station, I see a not-so-well-lit sign on the right side of the road almost immediately off of the exit. I whip in and low-and-behold, PREMIUM GAS. I almost peed my pants I was so excited. It's a good thing we found it, too; the gas station I was headed to did not, in fact, have premium. Jordy called.

Despite a phantom moth that appeared in my car and ruthlessly attacked my face in the dark--this might be an overexaggeration (to which Jordy warned me with, "Oh, there's a moth in here by the way.")--after that it was smooth sailing to the hotel in Council Bluffs. It is 10:30 pm here, 90 degrees, and humid. We are safely in our room that smells like a horse stable, awaiting a pizza delivery. There's about eight hours left in the journey tomorrow, and it's starting to all feel real. I'll try to update again when we get to my apartment (if I can bum someone's internet, that is). Until then, keep it wet (Great Lakes) and wild (West). Too punny? I DON'T CARE. :)

Ps) The entire ride through Iowa I had that song from The Music Man stuck in my head. You know: "Dubuque, Des Moines, Davenport (don't stop there), Marshalltown, Mason City, Keokuke, Ames, Clear Lake. Ought to give Iowa a TRYYYYYYY!". And then all I could think about was Michelle Kudrow's nasally voice singing "Oh, the Wells Fargo Wagon is a-comin' down the street (inset snort laugh)" from Romy and Michelle's High School Reunion. Sigh. I digress.