READ ME ... yeah, right. Right?

I'm sick of everyone else having on-line diaries. I want one too.

What is this all about? Maybe you should read the READ ME READ ME.

February 16, 1996: finally!

my cross country trip ... the journal

february 11, 1996, 5 am.

here i am in sonora, texas. i really wanted to escape texas yesterday, but when i saw at 8 p.m. that i had 400 miles to go, and it was dark, and i was exhausted, i changed my mind and stopped in sonora. it was either sonora or fort something or other, 140 miles away. there is no hotel off of highway 10 in between the two.

i'm starving. i wish i could have found a subway for a tuna sub, like i was craving all day yesterday. that would require civilization, however, which i saw little of.

moving yesterday was surreal. i had finally gone to sleep at 6:30 a.m., with everthing packed except for my electronics, my books, cds, videotapes and kitchen stuff. the packers -- a 30-something latina and her teenage son -- arrived at 8:25, and the truck driver -- a tall skinny middle age man -- and his assistant arrived shortlly thereafter. soon there were four strangers systematically organizing, boxing up, and carrying away my things. four hours later i was left with an empty apartment, filled in part only by piles of cat and rabbit hair, and the mountain of belongings i had set aside for my car. the driver, on his way out, told me that he had only one other drop off on the way to san francisco, and expected to arrive there on wednesday, thursday, or friday. how speedy!

i proceeded to attempt to sweep up the animal fur, and even cleaned the bathroom, but just a little, doing all i could to procrastinate the hellish experience of loading up my car.

it took me two hours to squeeze all of my things, as well as edward and jennifer, into my car, but i did, and by 2 pm, after saying ta-ta to eric, i was on the road.

and what a road it was. texas is pretty ugly. mile after mile of concrete, strip mall and billboards. i felt like i was in a neil stephenson novel. there were some nice areas, where highway 10 cut though hillsides, but not too many. mainly just miles and miles of yellow desert, spiked by the occasional tumbleweed (yes, those things really do exist) here and there. even though i was listening to cds, as well as james and the giant peach on books on tape, i was bored silly. 400 miles later, in sonora, i could not drive any longer, and stopped here. i was asleep by nine p.m.

i woke up at 4:30 am to the sound of edward crying over the unfairness of being in an unfamiliar place. good thing rabbits don't cry out loud also, although i imagine that jennifer doesn't have too much to complain about, because for the first time ever, i let him sleep outside of his cage and under my bed. he finally emerged out from under it when i started typing this.

i might as well shower and hit the road soon. i started listening to "women who run with the wolves" on tape last night, and i must say i find it pretty inspiring. the author, a female psychoanalyst named dr. estes (i think) devotes much time to drawing comparisons and links between sexual energy and creative energy. although i had never thought of it that way before, it makes a lot of sense to me.

february 13, 1996 12:30 a.m.

sunday nite past midnite. nothing on tv. i just totally cheated and checked my email i couldn't get through to netcom tech support (surprise, surprise) to see if they have a local number, so i broke down and made a long distance call to neosoft.

i am such a loser.

and, to add insult to injury, i had no personal mail to speak of. could it be that my friends have actually read "read me" and know that i am off line for a couple days?

i doubt it.

i did get a hate letter, sent from my friend rebecca, bitching that her friends haven't written her. she sent it to the wrong address.

and my sister wrote a letter asking where i am.

can't these people just read "read me"? i made it lynx-friendly. sheesh.

anyway, i'm in indio. i drove 1100 miles today and i am still not tired. my goal was to make it to the california border, and i passed that by 92 miles. i'm so proud.

perhaps it was because i got 12 hours of sleep last nite. more than my average weekly total over the last four weeks. i must confess, after i wrote the 5 am entry this (yesterday?) morning, i had every intention of getting out of bed and getting an early start on my drive. instead i lay back down on the king size bed and slept for another four hours.

when i woke, edward and jennifer were lying nose to nose under the bed. it was indescribably cute.

what was not cute, however, were the machinations i had to undergo to get jennifer out from under the bed. 15 minutes and a backache later, we were all packed up and back in the saturn, hitting highway 10 west once again.

i wanted to make this an interesting and personable road trip journal. unfortunately, it will be quite boring and short. highway ten west -- the southern route -- is about as dull as a road can get.

texas is one hell of a huge state. i didn't make it out of the state until 2 pm. since that was my target time, i was happy. i was also happy to be the hell out of there.

most of all i was happy because i was listening to the rest of the women who run with wolves tape. even though i was hoping for more stories, the author says some very interesting things. for example, similar to neil stephenson (speak of the devil), she compares socialization and religious upbringings to a computer virus, which attacks our natural "operating system," and we as women should seek to disinfect ourselves of this virus in order to become all that we were meant to be.

geez, i've known that all along.

she emphasizes that women need to stop trying to care what men and what society at large think of us, and instead search inside of us to find our true drives and our true natures. she quotes that saying that i love -- an artist is asked if he likes to paint, and he says no. when asked, consequently, why he paints, he says, because he must.

simiarly, dr. estes urges, we must find what it is we must do, and then do it. like the "ugly duckling," we will often find that, when in the right environment, we will become swans.

the goal is not to survive, she emphasizes, but to thrive.

she also says some things about bitterness and rage that hit home with me. she note that at some time in a woman's life, a woman will face the question of whether she should be bitter or not. she says that it is close to impossible to live as a woman, in this society, without being at least a little bitter. she urges women to take the rage flowing from this bitterness and channel it into a positive, creative force. it will give strength and power to our art.

what a great book.

well, there's not much more to say about the 1100 mile drive i had today. it took me 24 hours to find a subway (if you start counting from the time i left houston and include the time i was sleeping)... which i finally found close to the texas/new mexico border, when i thought i was about to pass out from hunger. i was screaming to myself, "civilization! civilization! give me a tuna sub!!"

new mexico was surprisingly small. looking at a map, i now understand.

arizona was pretty long. thankfully, i put in my donna summer cd around phoenix, and listened to it over and over again all 200 miles to indio.

i almost stopped in blythe, the first town into california, but some voice in my head (you hear a lot of those when you are in your car alone all day) was shouting, "no! indio!"

i have no idea why i had to be here, but i like it. it reminds me of the weekend i spent with john and his family in palm desert, the neighboring resort town. listening to donna summer also reminded me of john, as did the women who run with the wolves tape. especially the part where dr. estes urges us to find a mate who is from the "soul" ... and who relishes in our creative capacity, rather than tolerates it. i fear that john will be, as long as i live, the only "s.o." of mine to truly, and completely, believe in me like that. well, even if, when i die, he still is the only one, i am lucky to have lived and to have one such person.

getting back to fluffy stuff, did i mention that california has two mandatory road stops set up even before a driver reaches indio? even though i have a half-empty bottle of stohli, which would constitute an "open container," a cat, a rabbit, and a fairly noteworthy amount of marijuna in my car, the check-point people just waived me on. ah, the joys of being a blonde young-looking white woman driving a saturn. blech.

the front desk guy gave me a great deal on the room rate here. i guess he didn't realize that i was going to break the phone and let loose a cat and rabbit in the room.

shit happens.

oh, here's the speed limit low-down: texas is 75 in the day, 70 at night (don't ask), new mexico is 75 miles per hour, as is arizona, if i remember correctly, and california is 70 for cars, 55 for trucks. go figure. i thought that one state had 80 per hour, but i can't remember right now. what i do remember, however, is that i blew through pretty much the rest of texas in the morning at a rate of 100 miles per hour. i even took my saturn up to 105, just to see if it could go there. (of course it could!)

at times i was the only car for miles and miles in each direction. i kinda remember a ray bradbury story like that. only that story, i think, involved the nuclear apocolypse. texas is one big yellow state. it's nice to be back in california, where i belong.

500 more miles, and i'm at my goal. san francisco.

february 13, 1996.

well, i'm there.

actually, i arrived yesterday, at about 5:30 p.m. i actually was a little pissed at AAA for recommending that i leave the ten and head north at san bernadino rather than drive through l.a.. i found myself stuck on a vast expanse of two-lane highway, winding through an ocean of yellow desert, tumbleweed, and occasional tractor.

my mantra then became (i never thought i would say this!) get me to the five ... i want the five ... just the five ...

ultimately, i made it.

february 15, 1996.

i spent tuesday registering my car, getting back my california driver's license (it was still in the computer!), setting up a bank account, etc etc etc ad nauseam.

the movers arrived wednesday.

i am now surrounded by boxes.

that is why i haven't updated the page in a while.

i am also attempting to get my apartment connected to cyborganic's ramona t-1 router by ethernet. wish me luck!

soon this page will be back to normal.

hope you enjoyed my trip as much as i did. it now feels as if it never even happened, and i never left san francisco in the first place.

now, off to tnd!





or, if you must, back to Rebecca's Revenge

Copyright 1996 Rebecca Eisenberg