We Aren't In Kansas Anymore (Thank Goodness)

Evidently I've turned into one of those lame bloggers who only blogs once a month. I really have zero excuse. Sure, I've been busy with my new life, but not busy enough to neglect my love for writing. Actually, I'm going to blame my Kindle. Stupid thing stealing my time. Or maybe it's because I've spent so much time traveling back to Nebraska. I've gone back to The Good Life two out of the past four weekends. Yeah, I'm that girl who moves away from "home" but still finds it necessary to go back 12 times a year. Whatev. Don't judge me.

I guess there's some good that has come out of my travels....

1. On a more serious note, I've figured out some shiz in my personal life and now I'm 200 percent ready to move forward with my amazing Oklahoma life.

and

2. I've come to the realization that I completely and irrevocably despise the state of Kansas.

I've spent more than 32 hours on the road, with about 20 of those hours spent driving through Kansas. Those 20 hours were the most miserable hours of my entire life. The first trip wasn't completely terrible. Jacy was with me and we were still getting along in Kansas. (We started bitching at each other about 20 miles into Nebraska.) But my second trip was how I imagine driving through the seventh circle of Hell would be like...I now know where Dante Alighieri gained inspiration for the Inferno.


For some reason, the Kansas government found it necessary to conduct controlled burns throughout the entire state to "green up the grass." It's not just an acre of controlled burning here and there, OH NOOO, it's 100s and 100s of miles of controlled burning. And I'm not even sure it was that "controlled." I didn't see one fireman containing the burn. There were times that the fire was hopping onto the highway. Sure, I smoke cigarettes every once in a while, but I'm pretty sure that an hour of driving through Kansas has increased my chances of lung cancer even more than smoking.

As if smelling like a bonfire wasn't bad enough, I couldn't even place any calls to keep my mind off of the desolate, charbroiled land. Yeah, zero US Cellular reception in the middle of Kansas. Oh, and did I mention that my GPS got me lost? Only because it lost reception, too. Probably because its signal couldn't zoom past the clouds of smoke (is that what signal does? zoom? I'd like to think so.) My rat bastard GPS died for a while and then came back on, only to instruct me to drive up a two-lane highway at 60 miles per hour. Somehow it made me miss the sign for the interstate (...not my fault at all...). Luckily, I got behind a car with Oklahoma license plates who felt the need to escape Kansas as bad as I did. Unluckily, some idiot with the Kansas Department of Roads thought rumble bars ALL OVER THE ROAD were a good idea. Everytime me and my fellow Okie went to pass the slow-moving vehicles, we'd almost get jiggled to death by the rumble bars (which ran down the center freaking line for miles and miles).

I guess there was one saving grace in Kansas: there were no cliffs to drive off of. Because, after about 100 miles of blackened tumbleweeds, I really may have driven my car off a cliff.

But hey, I had a fantastic trip in Nebraska once I made it there. Slept in a Motel 6 (not a great experience), drank Bloody Marys at Wheatfields (great experience), ate my body weight in Runza (STELLAR EXPERIENCE), caught up with my best friends (an even better experience!) and prayed to the porcelain gods (not a great experience at the time. However, as I reflect back on the weekend, I've realized it was just a symbol of the freaking awesome time I had).

I'll try not to make it a month again, folks.

Peace. Love. Stay out of Kansas.