This is late by about three weeks. During that three weeks, I've pretty much put off writing about anything else going on in my life because I knew I had this stupid, last Road Trip post to finish. I shouldn't be in charge of reporting anything, much less things from my stupid life.
Anyway.
Luckily this last account of our travels up to the Pacific NW involves one straight shoot down the coast and some embarrassingly fan-girl stops along the way (not just for
Twilight this time). On our way out of Seattle and down through Tacoma, after eight years of dreaming of it, Kim finally got to see Stadium High (aka. The Brown Castle), where
10 Things I Hate About You was filmed. If I were a teacher, this is where I'd want to teach. DAMN, the world is unfair!
Once again, here we are loitering outside of a high school, THIS time while class is in session. The best part was how, while attempting to find a road around the school, Avaryl spotted two chairs near the dumpster and decided it was necessary—nay, non-negotiable—that she take one home. She wants to get a start on her "Friends"-inspired dining room table.
And all I could think was how Heath Ledger was once here, singing to Julia Stiles across a sea of bleachers. ='(
Moving on. Along the 5, near the border of Oregon, we felt it would behoove us to make one more loitering-stop: Kalama Middle High School—filming location for Forks High in the
Twilight movie. And, according to their website, filming was set for that day. So we hauled ass.
Luckily or unluckily for us (take your pick), filming was NOT happening that day. But school
was in session, which made us fear for our untarnished criminal records again. Luckily we made it through totally clean, only losing small portions of our dignity.
(I won't even let myself get started on the freak-out sessions that have occurred in the past weeks over the development of this movie... God save me from the Hell I know will befall me come December 12...)
Next, we hit up my dearest friend, Jenn Wood, in Eugene with the intention of staying the night. We had lunch, then got a long-overdue tour of Jenn's home for the past 4 years. But then, given numerous circumstances and realizing that we had a significant amount of time before the day ended, we decided to head further down south to make traveling easier later on.
Then, instead of stopping in Ashland like we planned, we made another irrational-yet-in-the-end-very-wise decision to just haul ass home to Livermore.
What followed? Long drive. Loud music. Crappy food. LOTS of coffee. We're just incredibly impatient, is all.
Oh. And how could I forget? The world's greatest (
::cough::dreadful
::cough::) piece of literature ever:
Taming the Barbarian, the romance novel that got us [comically] through our time together. Kim certainly picked a doozy! Considering that the reason to read such novels is for the hilarious, yet hopefully scrumptious, sex, we were certain it would litter the pages from beginning to end. Little did we know that God hates us
and our girlie libidos, for the "sexy Scotsman" was just a big pussy pants with an embarrassing inability to make an effing move.
But what did we expect? Eventually we found it was more enjoyable to read the terrible writing and daunting number of similes than actually read about his pathetic, stirring erection—and little good it did him, quite frankly.
I've decided, when I'm making millions writing children's novels, I'm going to write pornographic 'literature' on the side and give it to my friends and family at Christmas time, bound in pink, perfumed paper and tied together with gold pantyhose. Maybe a once-a-year thing, just to keep me occupied.
Obviously there are only a few simple rules that need be followed: 1) Use as many similes and metaphors as possible, no less than 10 per page; 2) Set the story in ANY time period that is
not the "present"—otherwise known as The Real World; 3) Make the heroine as sexually frustrated as possible; and 4) Never fully deliver.
God balls, I could make a lot of money doing this! I'm an expert already!
With the book finished, our caffeine high waining, and our up-beat music getting slower and slower, we pulled into home, well before midnight, to our disbelief.
And then we passed the shit out.
