Engine brakes and middle America.

Do you know how to downshift an 80,000 pound beastie? That's good. Do you know that you can't do that while going down hill because if you do you will definitely die?? Haaaaa. I wish you would have told me, because that's exactly what I did, with the exception of the dying. About a week ago I was in Laramie, Wyoming going West on the I-80, terrible place to die by the way, during the night. Minding my own business, listening to the Horrible Crowes, probably eating pretzels (which have been my go to snack for some reason) when I see that there is a Lincoln monument coming up. Tight. As I pass this huge ass Lincoln, which was all lit up and outstanding looking, I don't notice the BAJILLION signs saying that if you are a heavy truck (that's me) you need to downshift your beastie and slow the fuck down or you will be dead so I keep going in my second to highest gear, 8-low, when I really should have been at like 6-high, that's a three gear, 30mph difference, and when you're top heavy that is a recipe for a rollover. As I start my descent I notice "hey, this looks steep, Imma' downshift because I am such a good goddamn driver". NOPE. I took it out of gear to grab a lower one and it was over. I had no engine brakes, no control of my speed whatsoever and could barely steer. Being the cool-as-a-cucumber kind of bear I am, I scream "DAVID!! I NEED HELP!!" with masculine musk just oozing from my pours. Quick side note: when you're going down hill, and especially when you're heavy, you really don't want to use your normal service brakes very much because they get hot, can fail and even catch fire... But I would rather be on fire than dead. I firmly, but not sharply, applied my brakes because David was no help at all, pushed my clutch and got into a gear. This made my engine brakes start working again and after a bit I slowed to a speed more fitting for a beastie. My hands were shaking like crazy and this brown boy has never been so pale. My speedometer was past the max that it goes, I was sure I was going to slay my beastie, dude. Unfun. From there we were routed to Oregon, Washington, clear across to Wisconsin, Nebraska and then back to Oregon and I faced the hill again. I've never gone so slow, dude. I was probably going like 25mph, which I know is dangerous as well, but I was smiling and laughing and eating pretzels the entire way down. So sue me.

Other than that instance, my driving has been coming along very well. I still have some issues judging distance when backing up and for some reason I can't seem to downshift well when I'm going super slow. David tells me that I'm ready to be on my own and that if I didn't have to be out for the company required twenty eight days with him, he'd feel confident dropping me off right now. He isn't the type of guy that would lie to make one feel better, so I am pretty stoked on that. I'm very ready for this portion to be over. There are two models of the Peterbilt truck that we are driving, one is small, one is big. For some stupid reason he has the smaller one, even he doesn't know why he picked it and in a few months is going to change to the larger one. He is a nice enough dude, but the complete lack of privacy is getting to me. No J.O.B.B.? Ever?? I don't know how I've been falling asleep. It's strange, but I'm starting to sleep better while the truck is moving and bouncing everywhere than when we are parked for the night. But I do have a talent of sleeping anywhere, and looking back, even on the tours I've been on, if that van was in motion, I was out like a light. I guess I just like be rocked to sleep (are you reading this, Veronica?! I'm also going to need a glass of milk and a song or story).

A few weeks back we went through Palmyra, Pennsylvania and that is where I want to retire. The whole little town is ran by Hershey's! There is a Hershey amusement park, the street names are like Hershey Way and garbage like that and their bank is the Hershey Federal Credit Union! I'm pretty sure cash is no good there and you can only pay in Kisses. It's also IMMACULATE. Every lawn is perfect and green, all of the homes are like these Father of the Bride looking places and you could eat off of the street. The only negative is that the cemeteries (yeah, there's two for a small town... Too much chocolate will do that though) are mega old school. Like, the sidewalk in front of them is normal, and then the ground immediately after them is at least seven or eight feet high, meaning that their dead is buried essentially above ground and there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the grave plots, it's like you were buried where you fell. Obviously, being on the East Coast you can expect that crap but it is just so ominous and creepy for this California kid.

STOLEN OFF OF THE INTERNET, BUT THIS IS ONE OF THE CEMETERIES IN THE WINTER TIME. WHAT THE FUCK, RIGHT?!

THIS IS HOW I SAW THE OTHER ONE. SO CREEPY. I WISH THERE WAS ONE OF THE SIDEWALK.

So I'm in... Where-am-I, Washington, waiting for my clothes to be done and then we are setting for Wisconsin again, which is lame because I wanna' go places I haven't been yet, but at the same time I want to be in California by Friday so I can be home for the weekend. I miss you cats and I really appreciate those of you still reading this even though I am not updating nearly as much as I thought I would be able to and also everyone who texts me and is patient enough to wait for me to text back. You guys are alright in my book. Love love, kiss kiss. 

David on Bruce Springsteen:
David: "Who is this?"
Me: "Bruce Springsteen."
David: "I don't give a fuck about Bruce Springsteen. I like girls."

And he said this while we were IN New Jersey!! The nerve on that Columbian...

Clothes are dry. Listen to Only Crime's "Virulence". I didn't like it that much when it came out, but I've seen the error in my ways and it is from start to finish awesome.

Bear out.