Texas ho!

Know what's hot? Oklahoma.

But that's okay, (OK! ha!) because it means that the crack in my windshield will expand faster than it would otherwise (but don't worry, it's not illegal until it touches two sides!). It also means that the intriguing new rattling noise from my suspension will be that much more entertaining when I am stranded in big sky country with no cell phone reception. Also, don't forget the two new tires I had to put on the front, because the old ones were shot from the suspension wobble. Also, I need an oil change. And we ran out of gas this morning.

Do you like cars? Because they sure are expensive! Anyone want to go on a rickshaw trip with me around the country?

SO MUCH fun stuff has been happening but I feel I cannot legitimately post about it until I can extract the pictures, which means I have to use my own computer to post with instead of Justin's, because he only has pictures that he has taken and not ones I have taken. Like the picture of me in a cowboy hat next to the sign that says "Welcome to Texas." Or the picture of me with the assault rifle.

It's Sunday. Last Sunday I was in Pittsburgh. This Sunday I am in Amarillo, Texas. It hardly seems possible that they could be part not only of the same world, but of the same country (although my cool ridesharer Shawn pointed out that the US should really be subdivided into about five or six separate countries rather than one big one, for political reasons). I feel so distant, an emotion probably compounded by the neverending horizon. At one point today I looked around and said, "We can see the horizon in every direction." It was true. The sky is big and blue and full of the kind of clouds you order from Central Casting.

We had the best pizza ever last night, in Shamrock, TX. If you are wondering whether or not there are little leprechauns on everything there, you can stop wondering, because there are. If you are wondering whether or not anything is open after 8:30pm on a Saturday, you can also stop wondering. Also, the people at the table next to us in the pizzeria, a group of young adults or teenagers, thanked Jesus for their pizza before eating it. We drove past several enormous crosses last night, while discussing where we would want to go if teleportation existed, and what our spirit animals should be.

I keep expecting, since we are getting closer to Nevada and the desert, that we will start seeing crazy funked-out hippies in tutus or tie-dyed buses, because my only association with driving in the desert is going to Burning Man. But I forgot that there's another month to go, and we're not in Nevada anyway. Instead, there's us and a constant stream of RVs. I pointed them out time and again, amazed, until Justin said, "Not everyone is poor."