Since I’ve been busy (the usual amount, turns out) and have been spending all of my creative writing juices on writing my autobiography (which sounds more and more ridiculous the more I think about it, so I just won’t think about it), this blog has suffered a bit of a dry spell (and a moody spell, my goodness.) So, here I am, the Lansing to Lexington leg complete.
I did get the privilege to spend a quality six hours with myself, and I'll do the same tomorrow. I found out that I can get halfway through Ohio on half of a tank of gas (win) and could probably sputter on into Lexington on one very full tank if I wanted to be a super risky renegade. And my guess so far for the cheapest gas in America is some sixty miles north of Dayton at a minuscule $3.47-ish. It's disgusting that this fact causes me to yell at the other drivers and warn them to never go to Michigan. "Hey. HEY! DON'T GO TO MICHI---" whooosh as they pass me...and I do a little happy dance of insanity for my clever cheap-gas discovery.
I also discovered that I favor highway I-71 over highway I-75. Lovely Wife was right. There is nothing in Dayton. And I'd rather drive through Cinci than around it, wishing I were driving through it. And then being sandwiched between two semi trucks on the bridge to Kentucky (I love this state). Unfavorable. We will be fixing this route. Columbus, here I come, sweet beloved.
While driving through Kentucky (I love this state), I definitely got into one of those country-music moods that I absolutely never, ever, ever get into and just had to listen to Lady Antebellum. Problem is, I have exactly one Lady Antebellum song, which I listened to on repeat from at least Georgetown to Winchester. So, please excuse me while I download more Lady Antebellum for tomorrow's trip deeper south. (Also: please don't tell my brother.)
Alright, I'm back. I think I'm just succumbing to the inevitable: I will develop an annoying southern accent (which will sound ridiculous to actual southerners, and fascinating to people with nasally Michigan accents) so I might as well develop an irrational emotional attachment to Lady Antebellum songs.
Anyway, I'm side-tracking. I'm in Kentucky (I love this state) at Melissa's home, which she always so graciously offers to me and makes smell so good and decorates so nicely. After dinner and frozen yogurt, we actually took a walk through the actual heaven. Seriously, there were actual crosses and the whole nine yards. Really, it's only a grassy walking trail surrounding a lovely field of wildflowers, and oh, it only lines up in front of the loveliest Kentucky (I love this state) sunset ever. (And as for the crosses? The field is the future site of a church, so...that's why, I suppose.) I could hang here. I'm not sure if I mentioned this, but I love this state. However 'good' a person must be to live here, I'll be that good, and more.
Melissa and I then had the chance to chat about London airports, Dublin stalkers, being a city girl or a wide-open-spaces girl, the menfolk, the demonfolk, the regularfolk, being stubborn, being hit in the head with bricks, the usual. We are almost the same person. Thank you Jesus and internet, for instigating this friendship. I should also put a mandatory shout-out to the National Science Foundation here, but wait, no; that will go on my next publication. Silly me.
More camaraderie tomorrow then back on the road. I drove past so many blown tires today. (What do they pave these roads with? Needles and catfish bones?) Please, God, no blown tires while I have my entire life in the trunk of the car. Please. Also: please don't let my car get somehow stuck under a semi truck, which is what caused that huge backup in Florence, Kentucky (I love this state). Well, at least the traffic jam lent the opportunity to capture this lil' southern gem:
Oh yes, please and thank you.