The way to Iowa...

All right, I have to say first that it takes me forEVER to pack and leave the house for a trip. I feel that I am a spontaneous kind of person, but maybe I'm not, because I can never just "throw a few things into a bag" and be off on some adventure. I suppose I *could,* like if there was a fire or the nazis were at my door, but lately it takes a full day of planning, sorting, cleaning and packing to get myself out of town.

(Having the dog only makes things worse, too - not only does she have her own whole suitcase [food, food dishes, toys, dog bed. doggie coat, treats, chewy/boney-er treats, and grooming tools], but she is fascinated by - and must attempt to destroy - each thing I try to pack, clean or sort while getting ready to go.)

So, that said, this time it took me two days off work (well one, really - the other was for shopping and wrapping and doing Xmas cards) to get ready to go to my parents' place in Iowa, a four-hour roadtrip away. I slept in a little too late, 10am, then walked and fed the dog, took a shower, and was ready to go into work for a bit when I realized how much I had yet to do. I wrapped the remaining gifts. I checked email a few times, and opened and put away gifts from my Dad that arrived via UPS. all of a sudden it was 3:30pm, and I had wanted to leave around 5. Crap. I rode my bike to the drugstore and got my prescription, put my bike in my storage garage a few blocks away, and walked home under a darkening sky. It was 5pm when I walked in the door. I took Lois out again, then put the new windsheild fluid in, and started loading the car. By 7 I was starving, so I ordered Thai food to pick up on the way to Borders, which I had to go to sto return a book I'd bought the night before, and buy something for my nephew. There are no Borders in Burlington, Iowa; just a bad, mall B. Dalton that has 200 varieties of those tiny, stupid "gift books" like The Zodiac of Cats or something, but nothing I'd want to read or make anyone else read. Anyway, so at 8 we are pulling up to the dog park, because 1) Lois had been relatively good all day and didn't unwrap any of the gifts or pee on the floor and 2) we were about to go on a 4-hour car ride and she'd only had 2 walks that day. So she played with two puppies whose "dad" was really cute/nice until we got too cold (it was 10 degrees). Then we had to stop at my parents condo and get some laundry, and Lois had to eat doggie dinner. Then I remembered too late that I had to go make a bank deposit and couldn't find a chase bank anywhere, so decided to just let the account go below zero because the temperature was, and I was just trying to get the hell out of Chicago!

So we started driving with a little less than a half-tank of gas. I took a way I don't usually take and it was going OK, with only a few of the usual imagined jellyfish attacking my side windows or ghosts of cut-down trees threatening to fly in and take over the highway - that is, until about 10:30pm when I hit a literal WALL of fog. Something (I heard on the radio) about the extra cold, sub-zero temperatures hitting a warm front coming in the next day. Whatever; it was SO scary. I couldn't see the fronts of trucks I was next to, just their back lights. I could not see anything but about 6 bars of dotted center lines at a time. It made it oddly quiet, too, whcih added to the fear factor.

I drove this way off and on for about 1-1/2 hours, missed a turn twice because I could not see any sign, and finally got into the clear and drove for a bit. I stopped at a rest area at about 12:00 and Lois wouldn't pee it was so cold, and there was a stench of manure in the air so she was totally distracted. I got a Coke and a small hot chocolate. Then, 53 miles later, there was another rest area, and we stopped because *I* had to pee, but Lois still wouldn't until I screamed at her to pee NOW! I looked up right after that and saw a creepy trucker laughing at me screaming in the cold at my poor little dog with the coat on.

So it's like 1:30, right? Well by now we are on a stretch of 1-80 where there is, literally, nothing. And my gas light goes on. And I drive anddrive anddrive and there is NO GAS station, anywhere. I finally saw one of those "gas this exit" signs with the brands on them and there were two so I figured I'd go to the first one I saw. Well, I saw the Mobil station and was closed. Same with the Shell. I was starting to freak out, realizing that each failed attempt at finding gas off the highway was eating more gas! Anyway, all ended well when I finally found a gas station and it was lovely; had a very nice lady and a very clean bathroom, and even a cute guy getting coffee with me, and I bought my corn nuts and coffee and started back on the road. I had filled up my 12-gallon tank with 11.78 gallons of gas - it was the closest to running out of gas I have ever been!

As I got closer and closer to Iowa, my Mom kept calling me, and asking where I was, and claiming to be going to bed, then calling me again, without even a hello, just "Where are you NOW?" always at a time when I was not even in a town or near any markers or signs.

So I was maybe 40 minutes from Burlington, and in a town, and I saw an open gas station on the far corner across an intersection to my right. It was a big Phillips and at the green light I slowed after crossing the intersection to turn right into the station's driveway, but there wasn't an entrance on that side. It was strange but I just figured it was fate and I didn't need anymore coffee anyway. Then the flashing lights, and the dog barking her head off, and the cop, who asked if I had a problem back there and why my "registration lights" (whatever those are - ha ha - no, I asked him, and they are the little lights above the license plate) were out, and took my license and checked it for 20 minutes while Lois barked and acted insane. I was about to cry or laugh my ass off. It was 2:50am.

I finally pulled into my parents' driveway at 3:30-something. My mom was naturally still up, though she had to work the next day, with the basement CD boombox blaring, and the dog ran out to greet us.