You'll learn to love the price you pay

Throwing darts at a map...
So. It is less than two weeks until banks and I take our epic adventure to the other coast.  We are both nervous, and busy saying goodbyes. But taking some time away from day to day fidgeting-- we plotted our trip on google maps. I looked up dog friendly campsites-- so no staying on the side of the road at a truck stop. I am also now a proud member of AAA. These things make me feel better about life in general.

So. We are going straight through the middle of the country, and then up-- stopping for two days in Lexington/Louisville, KY; three in Kansas(to visit the twin); two days in Cheyenne, WY; and two more days in Salt Lake City, UT. These seem like the most memorable places along the way to actually look around, anyway. If anyone has suggestions of places I shouldn't miss-- I would love to know about them!

Here is the full trip:

If everything goes according to planned, banks and I should roll into Portland on the 21st of March! Hope they're ready.

I'll Sleep on Mountains.
I’ll sleep on mountains. I’ll sleep enveloped in the vastness of Big Sky. I will be lonely. I will be whole. And I think it has nothing to do with running away from myself-- I think it has everything to do with running into myself. Finding peace within my own head, not minding residing there 100% of the time, even when there is more desirable real estate offered up.

 Everyone is so worried about security-- which I find interesting; we need so little to live; we are young, able bodied and able minded. If there is nothing for us out west, then there must just be nothing there at all.

And we spend all of this time-- all of this time saying tomorrow. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I will begin, but today I must pay my rent, and pay my groceries, and pay my way, and pave my way-- for tomorrow. And we all know the saying, yada yada, tomorrow never comes. But tomorrow does come. Tomorrow is yesterday’s today, and then today’s yesterday. And before we know it, tomorrow has come.

And I am not arguing against self-reliance, self-sufficiency, comfort, or responsibility. I am simply trying to make a case for freedom. For a change in perspective. For a diplomatic compromise between freedom and security. To argue that they are at odds when they do not need to be.

We think in extremes-- in Mercedes Benz or beggars on the streets. In high rise buildings or miles of uncharted wilderness. In success, or failure. When we know full well that there are people walking around driving civics, and suburbs on the outskirts of towns-- and we know that there are attainable dreams, and that sometimes halfway there is just far enough. We stumble upon our intended lives while seeking out our dreams. We flounder in never choosing the lightly wooded path, and sticking to the highways and byways that choke with the traffic of the world that is asleep, or by skipping off into the hundred mile wilderness, on a hope and a prayer, and a granola bar. We think in extremes.

Choose the lightly wooded path.

As for my soul? I’m just making the difficult decisions-- the same as you. I must chose between two things that mean something to me, and I must cut one out for awhile in order to move forward with either. I have to lighten my cart-- unload some bits of me that I love and adore-- including living breathing extensions of myself-- for a chance to finally let out this breath I’ve been holding in for the past ten years. It is all just a means to an end.

The phrase "Running Away" implies that one is not running toward anything, when everything, truly, is ahead of us.

41 Days on the countdown clock.
This is an abridged version of the book.

I've been in VA for the last 6 or so years. After leaving FL, I went to a horseshoeing school in GA, and then onto an apprenticeship up here-- in VA. I never left. Started up my business (, and went back to school for a degree in Social Work a year and a half ago. I'm not quite done with my Associate's yet; but I did remember how much I absolutely love learning. Love it.

I obtained my first true doggie soul mate, Mr.Banks:
And he's been my sidekick on a daily basis-- everywhere from the backpacking on the AT to seeing a movie near DC. Together we have lived in 14 different houses, in 2 states, and I don't even know how many counties. I can no longer remember my zip codes for identity verification with companies when they call. We lived with three different men, all of which I thought I might marry-- none of which I did. We have bought/trained/given away/sold 6 different horses since we've been here, and good ol' Beezer is the only one left now-- to make the trip to Oregon. It seems fitting, since he is and always has been my heart. He is coming 17 years old now.

At some point in time, I began referring to the Whitney and Banks union as "we." "We will be there later, or We are on our way, or We are tired." We are attached at the hip. He talks in the voice of Eeyore, but is always doggie smiling. He is big and scary and wolf-like, and not wolf like or scary at all. Some of our friends call him "Zenmaster Banks", and I think we are both fond of this nickname.

So, with that, we have been itching for a new adventure. Don't ask why I picked Portland, it just seemed... right. I hope I will find people out there I know and love and understand. We are making a road trip of it, Banks and I. Taking a Southern route, on account of it being March, and cold cold cold. Cabinets have been built in the Jeep, storage over which a sleeping space is just big enough for 5'7" me. Banks has been sleeping in the Jeep pretty much his whole life, so it is me that has to get used to it.

I think over this time, I have become less of an angry little emo girl who likes to fight, and more of a little hippie girl who likes to smile. Sometimes I get sad, I think it's in my blood; but now, at least, I figure it to be a passing state instead of a constant one, and reap the benefits of poetry when I happen upon it. I still don't really know how to use semi-colons.

More later. :)

Holy shit on a stick.
(Which is hard to do).

I don't think any of my friends on here still exist, but after taking an hour to re-create my e-mail address that this is linked to so that I could retrieve my password from...6 years ago, I'm going to post something.

This is hard to read. It's easy to see now how my parents blamed my ex-husband for the downturn my life took in '03-'04. It's a pretty visible deterioration based on my posts. This feels silly since I'm pretty sure I'm tying to myself; but I'm seriously considering bringing this LJ back to life. How interesting to see a continuation of what my life has become after all it was in my angsty, confusing teenage years. And even now, I'm in VA (and have been since shortly after my last post) Nel was adopted, Josh was divorced.

Right. I suppose if you ever get to doubting your progress in life, look at your old LJ. It's a regular fuckin miracle.

Everything is just ducky ^^

Ok, so I almost drowned her while trying to give her her first bath >< Who said we had no reason to hate our mothers when our teenage years rolled around ^^

(no subject)
Woops ^^

Here are the pictures, guys.

Have a Happy New Year!

(no subject)
Merry Christmas! 5 lbs 8 oz ^^ She was born on Monday, Dec 20th at 9:34 am

Ok, so not my best photo. You try being in labor for 12 hours.

Couldn't have asked for her to be more perfect :) Of course...she does cry a lot-- but only when she wants something ^^ Hope you guys had a happy holiday

(no subject)
....Guess who's having a baby on Monday.

Lots of pictures-- none of labor.

(no subject)
Lights. A vast expanse of land stretches beneath me-- Lit up as though it were a Christmas tree. Small and large: white, blue, green, and red bulbs-- both blinking and steady. The branches humble themselves with patches of darkness and uneven patterns. But as we begin our descent, this huge warmness dims, showing itself to be only single women rushing home from nine to fives--to empty apartments-- to rush hour traffic. It is mearly September, but I find the chill to be most unbearable.

I woke up this morning wanting to cry. Not scream, not run, not sleep-- but cry. I feel as though my life does not exist. As though I am not living it-- I feel like I am asleep. Like I need a change-- a dramtic change to wake me up and let me know I'm still the one drawing my own breaths. I feel alone. But how can one not feel alone when they always are?

I know that it must be the pregnancy-- but it has been my experience in the past that if you are unhappy, you can always do something to rememdy the problem. You can make some change to your lifestyle, your mindset-- you can take care of it all on your own. I feel helpless against this. I want something more-- something different, new, exciting-- but I know I have to deal with the circumstances at hand in a responsible manner: that I have to sit back and do nothing, because there is nothing rational that can be done.

Its suffocating. To feel like you can do nothing-- to be told you cannot. But God has a sense of humor-- and and a hell of a lot of compassion. Today, on the day I felt I would surely break-- I woke up to a message on my cell phone.

It was from Josh, telling me how much he loved me and needed me-- and it was a definite boost from feeling worthless. But to top it off, when I came out of class it was raining. Not pouring down so badly that you couldn't walk from class to car, but raining, lightly enough to see out your windshield-- and the sky is a wonderful kind of dark today. It is chilly and windy-- and dim today.

So I feel like there is something coming for me-- and maybe I will have to wait until after the baby for it to reveal itself, maybe I will have to force it to-- but today reminded me that the blood running through my veins is not yet running cold-- and that there is still hope to truly feel its warmth.

I cannot wait to feel like myself again.

(no subject)
I had a bit of a sweet tooth today, so I decided to bake an apple pie... and then cookies.

Let me just say that the apple pie actually looked BETTER than the cookies, so I decided to try it.

I am going to make a terrible little homemaker ^^

Yeah, it's fairly disgusting, I should stick with pumpkin pies...they are fairly straightforward, and ready to bake cookies.

Mhmmm... 2 more months and I'll be able to see my feet again. Everyone cheer!

I have nothing to say except taht I can no longer write--- it's like..there is nothing there, like I've forgotten how to arrange words on the page to make them sound fantastic. Its sad, really.


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