The High Way


I am planning the next road trip in my mind these days. It is the time of year I start making the year ahead’s vacation plans and reservations. On the itinerary this year among other amazing adventures is The Third Annual Bitch’s Road Trip. Seven to Nine days of freedom on the open road, destination changes yearly.

We started with a small one first, to the Rally to Restore Sanity in DC. I had lofty hopes of making out with Jon Stewart at some point. I also smoke a lot of pot so I give up easily and plans often seem like too much work in the end. I make decent decisons when I am stoned.


{If I were drunk it would be a giant Dr. Suess style debacle}

January 2011, the three of us set off to the West Coast and a couple of interior states within the South West. We each chose a place we couldn’t miss and planned around that.

Immediately, upon landing and waking from my Ativan induced drooling state of bliss, I needed weed. After picking up our giant pimp rental, we navigated our way to the bustling community of Drs. who prescribe marijuana within Venice Beach. We did some chiseling and negotiating and got Miss Carry a liscence to carry. Oooooh I just want to bury my face in the in the bosom of this kindly place that lets me buy weed. After scoring our needs and consequently getting very stoned we prepared for the open road. My dream place was Death Valley National Park.

{We drove to Vegas first thing in the morning}

There is nothing more dreamy than the open sun bleached sprawl of concrete. Music, good company and lots of pot. Sweet Dee went to sleep. She woke briefly to send a homeless man to me for money at a rest stop. Then she went back to her blissful vacay in her mind. We woke her when we got to Sin City.

We went to Vegas for two nights. And then got sucked into the vortex of neon and filth and stayed for three. By day four Miss Carry and myself had given up our “destinations” for stoning and landing where we showed up. We knew this wasn’t the case with Dee and had to get her to the Grand Canyon or there would be hell to pay.

After three days of no sleep, watching Usher play Black Jack in my pajamas, dressing up, only to put on comfortable clothes and smoking pot constantly (the key was, it was GOOD pot) we departed and flew to the Canyon just in time to see the sunset. It was grand and glorious and all of the splendor they say. Sweet Dee was happy and ready to make tracks in 15 minutes. We we headed to Sedona.

Unfortunately–it was pitch black. Drive, smoke, drive, smoke. The best part was the laughing. It was the type of laughing that you feel in your whole body and you know that you have never laughed so hard. Mostly Dee slept. She woke up in time for the switchbacks in Arizona. She and Miss Carry stopped breathing. I happily and greedily stoned, paid no mind to the hairpin turns and deadly drops to our right.

We checked into our hotel soon after and just in time for Dee to melt into a starving crazed savage. This had a little to do with the Geico creature she chased away with her bare hands. She yelled at us, pulled her hoodie tight and went back to sleep. We played in Sedona. Got stoned in Sedona. Looked at amazing art and felt the healing energy of the sheer beauty around us. The place packs up at 7PM and we got bored after a couple days and went back to Vegas.

A couple days later and back in Long Beach at AVIA with a freshly bought joint we did some reflecting and laughed some more. We put on our big girl hats and went home.

At least some of us did. My heart stayed in Venice beach. A boardwalk of misfits that all go together.

Tomorrow it’s a quick two nights at Mohegan Sun to Rally and Restore My Own Sanity before The Girl and The Boy head back to school and I lose my mind in this big blue house.

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