I'm not quite sure why I feel the need to take trips in the car. A hearkening back to my childhood perhaps? I can't say. Although, I have now done the Boise run so many times as an adult, it no longer seems to be the nightmare trip from hell it once was. Being stuck in a car for 8 hours with two children goes a long way to making it seem less than euphoric, however. Bless the person who developed the portable DVD player. Double bless the angel that modified such a gem into a dual deck DVD player so two different movies could be played simultaneously. And all hail whomever devised the sanctified gift of headphones. I really don't know how my parents suffered through so many years of "he's touching me...he's eating my ice cream...where are we NOW?" and all manner of similar complaints. It is a little sad that my children have never played road sign alphabet (waiting breathlessly until we got to the Blue Mountains and the coveted "Snow Zone" sign for the "z") or license plate bingo. The staples that kept me and my brother from going insane with boredom after being made carsick from reading too long in a moving vehicle up mountain roads. Back then you couldn't even get a radio station for most of the trip...no wonder my kids are candy asses!

SHSo'C got me some fabulous earrings for Christmas...you've seen 'em. I am so enamored of my gifty that they have not been out of my ears, except for very brief periods of activity where I feared losing them. I was thinking the other day that there might arise such an occasion where I would be required to wear different earrings, like say, at a wedding. *cough*Anne!*cough* What's a woman to do if she refuses to remove one of her most treasured gifts? Hey, I still have scars from where my ears were double pierced. I have a piercing stud from the last time I triple pierced my right ear. Anyone see where this is going? Anyone forget I am sometimes RETARDED? If so, refresh your memory here. Never mind that I haven't had earrings in any holes but the originals for the last 15 years or so. Never mind that I am too impatient to walk downstairs and get some ice to at least numb the skin. I mean hey, I can get the piercing stud in about 1/4 to half the way; the rest should be cake. So, I grabbed some isopropyl alcohol, doused the stud (hey! I am a nurse! Cleanliness in next to not getting a raging case of MRSA), and proceeded to cram the piercing stud into my former piercing. There were a few touch and go moments when I obviously left the original path (read: scar tissue) and ventured into virgin territory. I knew this because it hurt like a sonuvabitch. Let it be know there was a brief moment when I contemplated the wisdom of this venture, but....meh. With perseverance, and a desire for some Everclear, I was successful! Now to the next ear. Long story not so short, I am now double pierced (keep it clean!) once more. And never shall these baubles be removed. Because I plan for the skin to grow over them and become a permanent part. Like a sapling growing around a guide wire. Surgery will be a bitch; they'll have to tape my whole head. The one thing I forgot about was how uncomfortable it is to talk on the phone with one's ear double pierced. But that may be related to slowly violating the integrity of my earlobe, I'm not sure.

One last thing before I toddle off the the womb-like state of my bed: Lt. Nixon has written a short story that I think you'll enjoy. It is at turns hilarious and heartbreaking. No zombies, but some fine reading and kick ass tunes! It may also give some an insight to these brave and amazing people who walk among us. Go give it a read; you'll be glad you did.