So the big task for today was to get the oil changed in the truck. I am told by other of my species that this is not necessarily considered a Big Task. And considering the time at which said Big Task was accomplished by moi, I guess I may have to reconsider my Big Task ranking. I was done at 8:30 am. Since then, I have managed to do the following: take Bashi on a medium-sized walk, type up all the names of all the songs on all the cds I made for mi familia, purchase food stuff for tomorrow's marathon driving session. That leaves pretty much everything on my list of things THAT MUST BE DONE, yet undone.

And do you know why tomorrow is a marathon driving session? Ok, yeah, I'm a-going to Florida (my mumma on the phone: "what time will you be getting home? Uh, I mean, here?"). Normally this is about an 8 1/2 hour drive. Not so bad. But, for very happy reasons, my drive time tomorrow: about 15 hours, give or take. You see, my lovely brother Dan called me up (and I almost didn't answer because I had guests--our most excellent Frances to be exact) and said his Grand Canyon trip has been cancelled and can I come pick him up on my way to the folks'. I said YAY. He wasn't nearly as thrilled as I was. Ah well. Weigh an all-expense-paid trip to the Grand Canyon against the dubious charms of my whole clan and he may have a point. But I'm happy. He said, don't tell mom and dad. Let's make it a surprise, he said. YAY. I love me little brother.

So tomorrow I drive down down down to Tallahassee, a place steeped in the history of my kin, pack brother Dan into an already tight truck, and then off we go to DeLand. I plan to depart this purty place at 5 am, folks. Yes I do. I'm my poppa's daughter in the end. I, too, like to get on the road. I was a little bit frantic earlier because I also, like my poppa, sometimes have a spot of difficulty rethinking my plans. I need to get a road atlas pronto (where'd that blame thing go?) and I'll be in tiptop shape. Being without a road atlas is like losing a sense. I need to be able to see where I'm going. This is not necessarily a fact I'm proud of (I always wished to be more of an off-the-map type gal), but there it is. I like maps. I like understanding where I am. Hell. Like ain't got nothing to do with it. My agoraphic tendencies and constant need for being properly oriented, in-the-know, and generally un-lost make for a frantic panicked me without maps.

I am, however, excessively and unreasonably proud of my sense of direction. Once I understand the landscape (and I do pretty damned quick, usually--necessity being the mother of invention or some other cliche that's more apropos), I can get places. My greatest moment of directional success? Sophmore year in college. I went on a week-long Habitat for Humanity trip to Birmingham Alabama. Our group passed right through Atlanta and, since many members of our group were tight with Blythe (who is from Atlanta and home for spring break at the time), we decided to swing by her house. At 3 am. I was the only one who'd ever been there before and that was one time, the year before (on a different Habitat trip to Athens, Georgia), with someone else driving. And Blythe's family lives in one of those subdivisions which are notoriously hard to navigate. Yeah, baby. We got there first try. But then we realized it was the middle of the night and the Blythe people might be sleeping so we just gathered ourselves out in front of her house and took a picture. Blythe, southern gal that she is, was horrified when she found out. You should have knocked! she said. Southern hospitality! she said. And, this is the part I like, damn girl, you are good. That's what she said to me. Because I found her house. In the dark. In the suburbs. When I'd only been there once before and from a different direction entirely.

Ah, my self-aggrandizement is a might unseemly this evening. Apologies.

Right. I'm suddenly remembering that I've got a shitload to do this evening--paperwork and present packaging and packing and a bit of shopping and animal prep, etc. etc. and so, adieu. Safe passage for us all.