Road tryptophan

Happy New Year!

(Nice crop)

First off... Congrats to Meagan! Her band Chase Long Beach will be performing at Bamboozle Left AND some of the Warped Tour. Way to go, bff!

Second- We are no longer bicoastal bffs... We happen to reside not only the same coast but in the same state! It's a wonderful thing. I am now located in lovely San Francisco. So far I am discovering that San Francisco is a cleaner, safer, and better smelling version of New York City. Pretty stoked on it.

(I currently have a space heater pointed directly at my legs... I keep it on high until my legs start to feel like they are burning and begin to have red splotches... When it's on low it will occasionally make a soft humming sound. Sometimes that takes my dog Sharky by surprise and he jumps a mile... Ohhhh the entertainment!)

My road trip from Atlanta to the Bay Area was pretty glorious. I traveled with my buddy Lindsay... She spent Christmas with her family in Birmingham, AL, so I picked her up there...

From Bham we drove through Mississippi and then to Memphis, TN. We made a stop at Graceland to give our sore butts a break from the long ride (wait that sounds dirty...) and to see what the hype was about...

Graceland is on Elvis Presely blvd which is a longgg street full of graffitied ghettos and then BLAM... Smack in the middle is a mansion. It was not what I expected. Probably the funniest moment was when the shuttle took us to the front door

and we were greeted by a Graceland employee... He began to give us instructions and a brief history of GL before we entered. He beagn: "Welcome to Graceland. The home of Elvis as of..." he paused and chuckled. We just stared at him waiting for him to continue... He begins again, "The home of Elvis from 1957 to.... hehehe" Ummm what!?! This time we giggle too in effort to make him feel more comfortable. He continues, "Ok wait... This is Graceland. Elvis purchased it in 1957... The founder of umm..." You get the point. This went on for nearly 15 minutes. I am convinced the guy was under the influence of... something. They provided us with headsets so we could listen to an audio tour. When we pressed play it said "Welcome to Graceland. The home of Elvis Presley. Elvis purchased the property in 1957." Wait a second... So the guy outside told us exactly what was on the tape!? Looking back I'm not even sure if he was supposed to tell us anything more than, "Step to your right and press the play button on your headset." Pretty funny.

That night we drove through Arkansas and Kansas. The next morning we awoke to snow! We had planned to visit the childhood home of the music group Hanson the next day (yes, MMMBop). We did not expect the snow to be quite as bad as it was. It was a dangerous ride. A car almost crashed into us, my windshield was covered in ice, and we had to drive 10 miles an hour off the freeway. We arrive on the street that takes us up to the Hanson area. Halfway up we realized the car will not drive up the enormous hill:

But I am determined! We did not drive 2 hours out of the way (Tulsa, OK) to turn back when we are THAT close! So I parked the car on the side of the road and made Lindsay, Sharky, and myself walk a bit over a half a mile in snow to the house. Lindsay was in high heel black boots. She was slipping and sliding. Somehow we made it... We even snapped a couple photos before feeling entirely too creepy and raced back to the car. (Well I raced and Lindsay took baby steps. I warmed the car up for her. haha)

We then went to the site of the Oklahoma City Bombing (no funny stories to tell there... yikes).

Continued through Texas and New Mexico.

When we reached New Mexico we discovered a little town called Clovis. We were sick of driving for the day so we decided to get a hotel. We asked a woman working at a taco stand where we could go enjoy a drink. Well it was Sunday. They do not sell liquor in NM on Sundays. Not at the store or a bar! With two exceptions... Applebee's and Chili's. (and those closed at 10!). So we head to Chili's for a snack and a drink. Some men approached us at the bar and offered to buy us some shots:

We agreed. Turns out, an airforce base is located down the road... They bought us shots of Jager (I bet you guessed that by the photo)... One of the boys was shocked that I did not know how to "two step"... (some sort of country dance). So he began to teach me this sweet dance move... in the middle of Chili's. (He was in pajama pants and a t-shirt that read: Ra-tard.) It was pretty ridiculous. Then another one of the air force dudes got kicked out. It was last call and apparently he reached over the bar and tried to refill his own beer. After he was escorted outside he began knocking and pressing his face on the outside window trying to persuade us to come out side. It was still snowing. The night ended with me telling the third airforce guy, "May the airforce be with you". He replied "That's rude". Oh how I miss Clovis.

I'm sick of writing this... I will make a "part two" later...

Cougar Woods

My parents made this because they are weird. My grandma had an affair with Tiger Woods... Don't believe me!?

Love,

Molly

Slam dunk!

So I HAD to tell this story because I just laughed the hardest I have in a looong time...

I have this pal named Lindsay:

She is hilarious (obviously)... On Nov. 5 2009 she receives a text message from a # she does not recognize... She replies the usual, "Who is this?"... The mystery person (we will call him Dirk Gorin) responds with his name. Lindsay mentions this to her friend, Donny, and he decides to google the name and see what comes up. They find a match! There is a "Dirk Gorin" on several websites. He is a high school Basketball player who just got recruited to a big college team. Lindsay is curious if this is the same person...

She plays along and asked him if he was excited to go to that college. He said yes! Confirmation!!! Lindsay continues to chat with him without telling him he text the wrong number. She discovers that Dirk thinks Lindsay is his pal named Jordan (his college Basketball buddy). This is Jordan (aka Lindsay):

Lindsay speaks in slang and sends him a picture. She says something like, "Hey check out this shorty that's been on my shit lately" and she sends him a picture of ME!!! What!?! hahahaha

This is the photo:

Dirk is impressed and starts asking question about me and college chicks. hahahahahaha Lindsay continues this for over a month. For weeks Dirk thinks he is talking to his friend Jordan... Until tonight!!! Lindsay and I were watching a movie. Afterword she checks her phone and says, "Uh oh I have a voicemail from Dirk Gorin!" We play the voicemail (Wish I knew how to attach it). He says (totally confused) "Lindsay???..." and hangs up. HAHAHAHAHAHA

I really hope he figures it out and thinks: What!!? Some girl with an Alabama accent has been texting me this whole time? Sending me pictures of girls!?!

hahahahaha

Soooo good

I love Lindsay Logan!

My family is loco(motive)!

My family is weird... My Dad sent out a Christmas wish list. Check this shit out:

"Hi all,

The Birthday/Christmas Train is quickly approaching so I need to make my list of stuff I want. It would be a good idea to check with Mom first, to avoid duplicates. All Aboard:

(this is wear he lists all of the random things he wants. I edited that part out)

Well, I hear the conductor..."Ladies and gentlemen, in preparation for landing the captain has just turned on the fasten seat belt sign. Please place your tray tables and seat backs in the upright and locked position.."

Whoa! Wrong mode of transportation. Er, uh, no mixed metaphors allowed.

Thanks and love to all,

Dad, Papa, Trey"

Hahahahaha So strange... I decided to stick with the theme for my list:

"Choo choo! Mom wants me to make a list too so I figured I would hop on Dad's train so we are all on the same track...

(again the list has been removed)

The train is leaving the station... Time to hit the (rail)road.

Xoxo,
Molly"

Yeahhhh... Christmas should be interesting this year.

thanksambiening

Ambien. Let's talk about it. It rules.

Last night on Thanksgiving I sent out this little gem to family and friends:

subject; happy t-day which actually became d-day but the good kind that you want to happen cuz d stands for dahl

"so yeah just load up everything into the kitchen there and i see a bowl of dahl - these letters on this keyboard are squishy and look to be all connected, don't worry about it let's eat. i brought chana masala sooo spicy good with bazmati rice. the letters are pulling left like we're always at perpetual discharge time of some ridiculous train that has nothing to do with any of this. everything is in order. what have you brought? we have wine oh wine, red. sake's alive he's got red. for a moment i'd felt my teeth improve. these damn letters consume each other? the laptop ship is dancing in these waves, it's a bother. i must end now.

love,
ambien
activity one - CHECK
on to two"

activity two? to write a handwritten letter. i've since transcribed this awesome piece of work for your perusal.

"(copied as exactly as possible)

I'd like to preface this ---

I'd like to take the right direction and have it lead me exactly to here. I see no real reason for any worthless prologue -- take it home and ripp it up as you are wont to do -- no reason. Maybe merely to just give greater offenders who know nothing about me at least a little hint as to who I am waist-deep in my love drug. And it won't stop.

I glance up to eye the mistaken giant dead bird -- in my view an entirely too large bottle of red from Chile. I'm dowm. God I'm so high on Ambien that I see the dead giant bird in front of the double-vision stove tops. And this is all in quiet, save for my nephew's haphazardly gashes as would be his art. These sounds usually don't interfere with the immense imagination that occurs.

Oh man I feel asleep once on a grandparents' bed. I'd broken the faucet right off the wall, attemped an ambien shower. The sweetest are all wrapped up in pre-planned packages -- "Oh come over to ours on Saturday, we'll have a party, alcohol, young people will be there come on it'll be great til you can find a bed - YOU JUST NEED SLEEP--"

Instead it should sound straight undeniably comfortable. Get in your jammies to take Ambien.

my original recording (up there) something about warning has left me now. I need more stimulant. I need to be writing as writing's done. (as the thing is happening)

Ambien is definitely an enabler and an easy way to feeling that out of control, for just a night.

all of this is SHIT.

(then along the left-hand side:)

I am high as fuck. The floor moves! Shadows and colors turn inanimate 2-d things to ALIVE things and I have to help them not get caught.

Ambien is the door to crazy awesome land.

(then on the back - incursive - which had been left blank at first)

why left blank?
I really don't know. still so high my thoughts were on a shitty computer game, where I battled word scrambles but meanwhile my peripheral vision informed me I was not alone. These guys were attackers. How could I not have seen them and here they bashing through. No, you stand and poof everything is gonnne. It's imagination for adults with little to no stimulant.

I can't write HIGH WTF

(the end)"

and I'm just gonna leave it at that. I love ambien.

Stop acting so catty

This is why I prefer dogs... A massive cat with thumbs was trying to cuddle with me...

Before:

After:

I guess it was not cuddling after all... It was hungry and bit my face.

The End

Push, you little asshole

So lately my cats have started being total dicks in the early hours, scratching on my paintings, throwing heavy objects off of high places...this is not new, but they'd been so good for so long that this is really pissing me off again.

The other morning I totally slapped my cat, Bacchus, full on in the face, and it was hard enough that he totally flew off the bed. It was pretty awesome.

This morning, though, he had no reason to be a jerk. He was scratching this painting of my brother-in-law's, and I'd shoot my head up off my pillow every couple seconds to hiss at him and scare him off the nightstand. Over and over and fucking over we did this til finally I got out of bed to chase him. He ran into my closet and I totally blocked the doors shut with my chair.

I found this hilarious this early in the morning, so I watched as he tried to push his way out. First just a little bit of paw, back and forth, in and out, over and over...he didn't understand what was happening. Then my other cat, Dharma, jumped on the chair, further weighing it down, and I was in fits of laughter. Like, seriously, the lack of sleep is making really stupid things hilarious lately.

Dharma eventually bores of trying to snag his paw, and for a minute Bacchus just kept hardly pushing against the chair, paw out, paw in, paw and nose out, back in, two paws out at once, both back...over and over, til finally he kept only getting out as far as his shoulders just to give up and retreat.

Meanwhile, I put on some weird John Hammond voice, you know, the character from Jurassic Park, the guy who started the whole thing...you remember that scene where the baby velociraptor is hatching and Hammond is talking like a fool saying, "Push, come on, come on, that's it, push!"? Yes, well, that's what I was doing, outloud, in my room.

"Push, come on, you little asshole. Push, get out of there, you little fuck. Come on, little asshole."

I don't care if I was verbally abusing Bacchus, I was evening the score. So yes, finally the little moron made it out and jumped back on the bed all purrs and nuzzles and we fell asleep for twenty minutes. IT WAS GOLDEN.

This is my life.