We made it. It took us 15 hours. The AC broke. We laughed anyway.

Parsons Pilgrimage from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

At least this guy was happy:

After attending a church service on Sunday night, I offered to give a new friend a ride home. As we walked toward my car, she stopped.

“Wait, this is YOUR car?”

“Yes…?” I replied, hesitantly.

“My roommate and I have seen you all over town! We’ve been wondering who you are. In fact, we were right behind you on the freeway today, and noticed the Fresh Beer sticker.”

This town is so small, it’s frightening. Apparently, the very sight of my car results in me being the subject of conversation. But yes, I suppose that the Honda sticks out like a sore thumb these days. With it’s Washington plates, missing hubcap, and bitchin’ 1976 roof rack, it is looking particularly super-ghetto-fly.

On Friday, on the way back from Taos, Mom and I were driving north on a 2-lane highway through the desert. Snow covered the ground as far as the eye could see, coating the horizon in a uniform white. But suddenly, east of the highway, something caught my eye.

“Mom, turn around!” I cried.

“What? No, I can’t,” she responded.

“You have to. We’ll always wonder if we don’t go back.”

She thought for a second, and then whipped the wheel to the left. With a mighty U-turn, we changed direction, and then turned east on a driveway covered in snow. We were adventurers, seeking a new frontier, seeking the truth. With no assurance that our noble steed of a Toyota Matrix would not get stuck in a snowdrift, or that a pack of Rottweilers would not be sicced on us, we boldy forged ahead. And our discovery was… beyond words.

Curious? Here’s a close-up of the Hummer-Limo, or what I like to call “The Hummo.”

Oh, and this was parked off to the side. Just in case.

What. in. the. world. This was an amazing discovery.

And no, I have no idea what it all means.

The fact that I am posting this blog means that I have returned to society. I am in gelid Alamosa, CO, with my friend Hannah. And in case you’re curious what “the wild” has done to me, this is what I look like today:

So far, The Big Trip has been an odd experience in that everyone that I meet asks, “Where are you from?” And I cannot reply with a one-word answer. I take a deep breath, wind up my motor-mouth, and commence with my convoluted autobiography.

I don’t really know where my home is anymore. In the past few weeks, I have never felt so simultaneously “homeless” and “at home” everywhere I go. I am the first to admit that I am extremely challenged at living a mobile lifestyle – I don’t exactly travel light. I cart around one suitcase for beauty products, and one for shoes, a duffel bag for my washcloths and socks, an ice chest for my very specific foods, with my coats and dresses hanging from the clothing bar across the backseat of my Honda. I wish that I could just throw my life into a little backpack and set out, but I am too complicated – and, more importantly, GLAMOROUS.

Tonight I am in Kansas City, but tomorrow morning, I will load up and head out for 4 more weeks of adventure. Nashville is first on the list, and I hope to explore the city a bit more and get a feel for what is going to be my next “home.” My friend Sarah has been a complete rock star, and has helped me line up places to stay, social events, and has even talked me into running a 5k on Saturday morning. I am ecstatic to have the chance to spend some more time with this kindred spirit that I found on MySpace. Who knew? – the internet IS a valid way to make friends!

I checked the weather report, and it appears that I will be driving through “severe weather, including thunderstorms and tornadoes” throughout the entire 9-hour drive to Nashville tomorrow. If you think of me, please send up a safety prayer on my behalf. A run-in with a tornado would make an incredible blog entry, but come now, people. Let’s be real.

When you hear from me next, I’ll be blogging with a southern accent.

Here I sit, in a Red Roof Inn in Austin, Texas. I am here with my sister Becca and her adorable puppy dog Gabe after an 11 hour drive south from Kansas City.

On Monday, Becca will have her first day of dog training school at Triple Crown Dog Academy. If thoughts of “dog training school” leave you at a loss, then don’t worry – you’re not the only one. Becca herself wrote a great blog about her dubious thoughts about what this experience might be like. I? Think that it’s rad that she’s following her passion.

To be honest, I felt a bit hesitant to take this trip with Becca and Gabe today. Last week, Gabe barfed all over the back seat of my Honda – rivers and fountains of chunky brown liquid that soaked into my upholstery and pooled in the space between the seat and the door – and the scent isn’t giving any indication that it will fade in the future… ever. The last thing in the world that I wanted was a repeat scenario. But today, the three of us lived out my wildest road tripping dreams: in Becca’s black Toyota Tacoma, driving south, with a dog, listening to music, seeing places I had never seen before. The only thing that would have made it more fun is if our other siblings could have been along – but we settled for a phone call to Sarah, urgently asking for directions to a coffee establishment in Edmond, Oklahoma. Gabe was a perfect angel, except when he decided that he NEEDED to hang out on my lap, which meant that his furry butt was in my face.

Now, since you have probably been craving a list from me, I give you:

“Things I saw on the way to Austin”:

* swarms of birds, “Planet Earth” style, between Kansas City and Wichita
* a billboard: “Just say yes to Jesus… or REGRET IT FOREVER,” in northern Oklahoma
* Oklahoma City, which is the site of the fabled Oklahoma City Bombing… and this nightmare
* so many Subway franchises, I couldn’t count
* “The Auto Ranch” north of Dallas, which, as far as I could tell, is just a sprawling field where cars go to die
* a billboard: “Call us for your Vasectomy Reversal: 1-713-REVERSE,” south of Ft. Worth
* a bumper sticker: “Cowboys for Jesus” (I should get the female counterpart for my Honda)
* a rest-stop painted as the flag of Texas, complete with matching trash cans
* Waco, Texas – two words: David Koresh
* a shirt in a truck stop: “Silly boys – trucks are for GIRLS!” (I almost bought it for Becca)

Tomorrow, we’ll drop Gabe at a doggie daycare at a local Petsmart, and head out to see the city. Imagine me all Sandra Bullock-esque, in a long flowing skirt and a tank top with cool, funky jewelry.

That’s how I’ve always imagined Austin.

The 9-hour drive from Denver to Kansas City was uneventful. The most exciting thing that happened was pulling over at a gas station to lie down, belly on asphalt, and yank a tumbleweed out from under the car.

Other than that, it was rattlesnake farms and “Come see the 5-legged steer!” signs. I almost ran out of gas, but I didn’t. I made it to Topeka in time. I almost wish that I WOULD have run out of gas – then I would have had a cool story for you. But. I don’t.

Here I am in Kansas City.