What’s been going on, you ask?  Well, this happened.

Whatever dramatic scene you’re envisioning, yes, it was all that and more – although probably more hilarious than you imagine.  Poor Toad.

Another thing is that I mentioned to someone something about Gadhafi being dead, except I pronounced it “Gandalfy.”  I like make believe more than reality, it seems.  I can’t help it.  The Real News is too heavy sometimes.  So when I go to CNN.com, the first thing I check is the Entertainment page – where, yesterday, I learned that the kid from “Jerry Maguire” just turned 21.  And then I promptly died of old age.

In other news, I’m at a crossroads of sorts.  It’s general and yet specific and encompasses a lot of defined areas of my life without being about any one thing in particular.

How do we ever know the right thing to do?  How do we ever know the best decision?  And if we make the wrong choice, is the rest of our life derailed?  (I know that the answer is no, but just humor a girl who often feels the need for hyperbole.)

I like to ride in the car.  I lean against the backseat, and breathe really hard.  I never know where we’re going, but it’s always exciting.

This time, Annie started driving, and she just didn’t stop.  For almost 14 hours, she drove.  I panted the whole time.  Annie thinks I have dragon breath, but I am not a dragon.  I am a dog.

Sometimes, we would stop at a gas station and Annie would lift me out of the car and tell me to pee.  Sometimes I would and sometimes I wouldn’t.  Annie would talk to me out loud, and say things like, “Toad, you need to pee,” but if I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t, because I am a dog and I do whatever makes sense to me.

The next day, we only drove 7 hours.  When we finally stopped, we were in a city called “Portland,” and the first place we went was a guy named Mike’s house.  Mike is very tall.  I hadn’t eaten any food since Friday because long, unexpected car rides stress me out, so Annie microwaved some white rice for me.  I ate it.

On the days that we were in Portland, Annie took me to an office that she worked from.  The first day, I was nervous because I didn’t know where I was, so I threw up on the floor.  It’s okay, though, because the floor was concrete.  Annie cleaned it up very quickly, and I wagged my tail because I felt better.

Forty-five minutes later, on those same concrete floors, I shat.  It was very un-like me, but in the moment, it just seemed like the right thing to do.  A stranger man discovered it, and went and found Annie and told her what I had done.  Annie cleaned it up as fast as she could and kept saying the words “I’m so sorry” to the people in the office.  I just smiled and wagged my tail, so no one could be very mad at me.

Portland was a wonderful city, because everyone there smelled like interesting things like incense and cigarettes, and they would stop on the street to pet me.  Portland really likes 3-legged dogs, and it’s a good thing, because I only have three legs.

A few nights later, Annie lifted me into the car again, and I started panting.  I panted for three hours until we got to a new city: “Seattle.”  I was so excited to arrive in Seattle, because we stayed at my friend Lisa’s house, and she has a backyard, and I love Lisa because she pets me so much and feeds me cottage cheese.  I was so excited to be at Lisa’s house that I ran all around the house, and even though her floors were made of a thing called “hard wood” and I slipped all over the place, nothing could stop me from running and being happy.

My time in Seattle was so nice, because Annie just worked and patted me on the head.  One night, we went to her friend Keith’s house, and it was very scary because Keith had knocked down walls in his house and was building them up again, and there were wires and tools around.  But Keith gave me a bowl of water and Annie a shot of whiskey, and everyone felt better.

On Friday, Annie didn’t work – she took a thing called a “day off.”  On this day, she went on a walk with Greta.  I couldn’t go, because Annie and Greta like to walk very far, and remember, I can only walk once around the block.  I was sad that they left me behind, so I chewed the wood around the back door of Lisa’s house.  It seemed like the right thing to do.

When Annie came back and saw what I had done, she seemed angry and sad and something called “embarrassed.”  She tried to fix the door for Lisa, and she told Lisa that she would pay for it to be fixed for real.  But no matter what she offered, she still felt sad that I had done this.  I didn’t understand why she was sad.  I just looked at her and wagged my tail, because I like Annie, and I’m happy every day and all of the minutes.

On Saturday morning, Annie put all of her things in her car, and lifted me onto the backseat.  We drove on a magnificent roadway called “I-90,” and when we crossed over Lake Washington on our way out of Seattle, I saw a tear roll down Annie’s cheek.  I think that she must love this city very much, and must have been so sad to leave.

We drove to a place called “Spokane,” and I met a baby friend named Eleanor.  I don’t think that I’ve ever had a baby friend before, but I was very nice to this baby.  She was like a person, but very small.  Also in Spokane, I saw a cat and barked as loud as I could and ran after it as fast as I could.  But I only have three legs, so I did not get very far.

The rest of the trip consisted of a lot of driving and Annie trying to learn all of the words to Nicki Minaj’s “Super Bass.”

I met many people on my trip, and everyone who meets me loves me.  But Annie says that she probably does not want to take me on a trip again.  I don’t understand, because I’m so nice and everyone likes me so much.  But Annie said that having me along was a thing called “stressful.”

Maybe it’s because I threw up inside and shat on the floor and destroyed a home.

But I am just a dog, and I do what makes sense to me.

I’m very happy to be back in Colorado.

And I know that Annie still loves me.

What did you not do last night?
I did not attend a… seminar? a workshop?… called “7 Ways to Choke a Man Unconscious.”

What??!?  Who invited you to such a thing?
My friend Mike.  You know him, you love him.

Well, it’s really too bad that you didn’t go.
I know.

What on earth made you pass up such an incredible opportunity?
Well, I had to go running.

That’s not a very good excuse.
YOU’RE TELLING ME.

I hope you at least made it a good run.
I ran 4.8 miles – I’m starting to train for another half-marathon.

Which one?
I’m signed up for the Seattle Half, which is happening the Sunday after Thanksgiving.

Wonderful.
Yep.

[silence]

So… what else did you do this weekend?
Well, I drove very far – 1,300 miles.

That is insanity.
Maybe.

Did you have company?
Yes – my mom was with me on Saturday.  And the Toad was with me the whole time.  Still is, in fact.

Where are you?
I’m in Portland.

With the Toad?
Yes.  She’s a good travel buddy.

I still can’t believe you didn’t go to the choking class.
You and me both.

A few things of note:
- I drove the world’s nicest Penske truck.  It had a CD player, and an icy cold air conditioner.  It accelerated on the up-hills, and hugged the turns like it wanted to be more than friends.

The only lame thing was that it didn’t have cruise control.  When I asked the man at the rental desk about it, he suggested I “find a broom, snap off the handle, and wedge that son of a bitch to the floor” – the “son of a bitch” being the pedal, obviously.  And I laughed out loud.  Because a grizzly old man saying “son of a bitch” is enough to do me in.  I’m easy that way.

- I made a video – mostly out of boredom, until I realized that making a video was getting boring, too.  So soak up these 76 seconds.

- All of my dad’s stuff was successfully delivered, unloaded, and arranged in his new home.  I am now considering a new career in professional moving.  The industry is surely short on a vixen.

- I had the “Mr. Pink” at Torchy’s.  Fish tacos are the way to my heart.

- And finally, I just thought you would like to know that when I woke up on Sunday morning, I needed to get to church, but my dad had already left. So I drove the Penske. To church. In red heels. ROCKED IT.

You would be right.

And if you’re curious as to what the current weather in Austin is, and then suppose that it’s in the triple digits every day, well.

You would be right about that, too.

And if you ask what I might do to keep myself busy on the drive, and then assume that whatever it is, it will probably include talking out loud to myself and making up ditties about the panhandle of Texas, well.

Wouldn’t you like to know.

1) Checking Craigslist incessantly for cars. I am on the hunt for something that is Colorado-worthy, will do well in snow, and has high enough clearance to get into the mountains in the summer – however, I also want something with decent gas mileage that will cruise like a champion on long road trips. It needs to have low enough miles that I will be able to drive it for a lot of years, but high enough miles that I can afford it. And I definitely want a manual transmission and keyless entry. Is that too much to ask?

2) Test driving cars on lots. I don’t plan on buying from a lot, but it’s kind of fun to explore my options. I’m finding that car shopping can be a lot like dating, if you take your cues from, you know, the Spice Girls: “I won’t be hasty, I’ll give you a try / If you really bug me then I’ll say goodbye.”

3) Feeling generally cantankerous about having a car payment. The last time I had a car payment was… basically never. This is both a life shift and a major budget shift, and in the meantime, I’m figuring out some ways to cut costs and cut corners. It’s all going to be fine, but still – who wants another bill?

4) Driving my sister Sarah’s ‘94* Corolla. While she’s in Haiti, her little ruby red sedan has been parked in front of my parent’s house. This is lucky for me, because if she hadn’t offered, I’d be hoofing it. And in case you were doubting the cool factor of the Corolla, I should tell you that it’s name is Gene Parmesan. If you know the reference, you win the day.

*UPDATE: Sarah tells me that Gene is, in fact, a ‘97.  My entire life has been a lie.

What took me so long?  Oh, I don’t know.  My mom getting cancer.  Moving across the country.  Running so much.  Traveling so much.  Going to so many weddings.  Various existential crises.

I guess it took the Honda dying and leaving me with endless free time to actually get this done.

- – - – - – - -

Speaking of, if you’re wondering where I am, and you’re still thinking Kansas City, then you’re right.

Stuck.  Stranded.  Marooned.  In middle America, and a week behind in my latest half-marathon training schedule.

But not for long.

My mom and sister Sarah are driving out to my rescue today, and after a 9-hour drive, good Lord willing, I’ll be safe and sound in my Denver apartment tomorrow night.

Does this mean I’ll be making another driving video?

Maybe I will and MAYBE I WILL.

Well, people, I have good news and bad news.

The good news is that I’m alive.

The bad news is that if oil were blood, my engine would be the beaches of Normandy.

The burning rubber smell of last week was due to an oil leak on par with the BP debacle of 2010 – but I had that under control, and it wasn’t the Honda’s demise.  The unrelated, unexpected, and ultimate downfall came when the timing belt snapped, and there was internal damage to the engine.

The good news is that this happened Sunday morning 8 miles outside of Kansas City, and I’ve been able to stay with my brother and sister-in-law and nephews.

The bad news is that I will never drive the Honda again.

I will never drive the Honda again.

This isn’t how I imagined it would happen.  After all I’ve been through with and in this small-but-mighty car, I envisioned the end to be the engine catching on fire, or hitting a bighorn sheep or something.  I kind of hoped for a more spectacular blaze of glory.  Instead, death came quickly and silently, rolling the Honda to a quiet stop on the shoulder of I-70.

The nail in the coffin was the price quote for a full repair.  I was like, “Dude, if I had that much money, I would buy Christian Bale to CARRY ME AROUND.”

So just after it’s 21st birthday, I am selling my beloved Honda for salvage.  The money I’ll get isn’t enough to cover what I’ve spent in the last 24 hours.  I know, it’s just money.  But still – lame, right?

As for me, I am stranded in Kansas City.

And I haven’t been home for 6 weeks.

I’ll let you figure out how I’m doing.

Rest in peace, old Honda friend.  Here’s to the good times.

They are ridiculous.

I know I love country music, but Earworm makes me want to be a pop star SO BAD.

Check them out – 2007, 2008, 2009, and as of this week, 2010.

No better way to ring in the new year – that is, aside from celebrating Mel & Jesse’s wedding tonight.  I’ll be in a silver dress and sparkly heels.  It’s my last night in Nashville before pointing my wheel west tomorrow, and driving for one million miles back to Denver.

[I just read that sentence out loud to Julie, and she, in all seriousness, asked, "Is it really one million miles to Denver?"  The sweetie.]

And not to set all of you ON EDGE for my entire one million mile drive, but this week, while idling at stop lights, the Honda has started smelling like burned rubber.  Diagnoses?  My suspicion is that the clutch is going out – and if that were the case, should I… not drive away tomorrow?

Check back in 2011 to find out what has become of me.

“Because,” I explained, “the sky is still light.  The sun needs to travel all the way to California before it will be dark.”

I felt proud of my explanation – until little Annabelle piped up, “I thought the EARTH turned.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I was owned by a 6-year old.

For the rest of the details of my holiday weekend, watch this:

This Land from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.