Introducing...MY NEXT BLOG!

I can't believe it's time to retire London Footnotes. Honestly, I feel like I just started it. But here we are: life, racing forward at full throttle.

And so we enter the next phase: The Great American Road Trip! Please join my travels on the blog specifically created for the next few months on the road: Moonpies and Cherry Slurpies. I thought the best possible name for my blog would be one composed of my diet for the next three months, and also the very things that make America grand: chocolate-covered, marshmallow-stuffed cookies, and cherry-flavored iced carbonated beverages. Please forgive me in advance for spelling slurpee wrong, but I like to think that just adds to the blog's charm. Plus, you know, now 7-Eleven can't sue me for making fun of one of the world's most awful drinks for three months straight. And by 'awful,' I mean, 'truly, truly awful.' (Moonpies, on the other hand, are untouchable.)

Please join me on my next great adventure!

Hugs,
Sharona

North Dakota: it's not where you think it is.

The other night I had a small leaving-do with the friends I've made here over the past year, and the topic of my road trip came up. I made fun of the fact that I'm ridiculous for planning a road trip in the dead of winter, and one girl made a joke that it was going to be like one long endless Fargo. Once we explained to a shocked-looking companion that we didn't mean the pregnancy part, we meant the long endless snowy road with nothing but fence posts to pass the time and distance part, the topic resumed. Then somebody asked me, 'Hey! Where's North Dakota?'

I.
had.
no.
idea.

Of course I lied about it--after all, it's not like they knew, and I couldn't let my countrymen down by proving myself to be another dumb American--and waved vaguely in the air, 'sort of top-middle. Above South Dakota.' He holds up two index fingers: 'So if this finger is Oregon, and this finger is Chicago, where would it be?' I lowered Chicago slightly (to make it look like I knew what I was doing), then waved another finger vaguely between the two: 'It'd be, like, right here. With Minnesota and Wisconsin right here.' To indicate Minnesota and Wisconsin--one state in my mental map--I waved again. This appeared to satisfy him, I sighed with relief, and the conversation resumed on a much-less demanding course.

It has since occurred to me that I'm going to start driving across this landmass roughly a week from Sunday.

I know.

So today I typed 'United States of America' into Google maps. Just to, you know, 'check it out.' I wanted to see how badly I butchered North Dakota's location (turns out I had it somewhere up in Canada) and I wanted to see if Minnesota and Wisconsin were in fact two separate states (they ARE. And BIG ones). Now I'm hooked: this map is FASCINATING me. It turns out that between Diana in Memphis and Gina in Pittsburgh, I'm going to be going through KENTUCKY. And WEST VIRGINIA. Dude. That's WILD. KENTUCKY. WEST VIRGINIA. And then also I had totally thought I lied to a friend a few weeks ago when I said that of COURSE I was going through Mobile, Alabama, because really, what road will ever lead a person through Mobile, Alabama? but then it turns out I CAN TOTALLY GO THROUGH MOBILE, ALABAMA. Between New Orleans and Memphis! Isn't that INSANE? And I can even knock off a corner of Mississippi while I'm at it! MISSISSIPPI!

This trip is getting wild. I can't even handle it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to find a way to make St. Louis fit between Ohio, Chicago, and Wisconsin...

I am SO almost done.

As you may or may not know, I have had a HECK of a time planning my road trip itinerary. (And by 'a heck of a time,' I mean, 'I haven't even looked at a map yet, but I'm pretty sure New Orleans is near Memphis and that both of those are near Austin, so right away it's all looking pretty good.') But part of the reason I haven't really 'touched' the itinerary yet is because I've commissioned Map Wizard Dusty to help me, and he lives in OKC. So of course I have to wait to tackle this project until we can get together. Plus I like to plan things on the fly. It lends an element of excitement, nausea, and panic that really gets me going. Some people do drugs: I procrastinate.

The downside to waiting for The Dusty Hour (Dusty, I apologize in advance that 'The Dusty Hour' now means 'The Very Last Possible Second') to plan is that you--yes, you, and don't hide behind your curtains, I know you're there--will get approximately... * 45 seconds * notice before I knock on your door demanding a free meal and a couch to crash on. But I'll also come armed with a six-pack (of Diet Coke, Mom), so we'll still be friends.

But just in case Dusty figures out who the AntiChrist is in the next 48 hours and gets himself martyred (sidebar: does one 'get' martyred? Is that just my inner okie speaking again? Professor Gray, please to clarify), I've got a back-up plan!: The Pioneer Woman's book tour. That's right. SHE PUT IT ONLINE JUST SO I COULD FOLLOW HER. It's SO obvious. I mean, LOOK at it: she planned her tour for the EXACT same dates as my road trip, and starting it from the same place I'm starting mine. Coincidence? Methinks not. I'll be verifying her need for me when I show up at the Tulsa signing with my handmade 'I heart Ree' tee shirt and start licking her new cookbook. I think I'll buy eighty copies JUST BECAUSE I CAN. Plus in the length of time it will take her to sign all of them, I'll be able to hide away in her luggage.

p.s. Once, when Dusty and I were super-popular thirteen-year-olds, we made a three-dimensional map of Middle Earth for an English project. It was fantastic. We made trees out of toothpicks and dyed-green cotton balls, and tin foil rivers, and crusty clay Misty Mountains, all to scale. I know. Our awesomeness blows my mind, too. I hope that we approach my road trip map in a similar fashion, as I like to 'conceptualize' journeys before I take them. And then when I'm on the road, I'll be able to instruct my navigating passengers to look in the backseat to find out how close we are to our destinations: 'Do you see that brown foil strip? That's the Mississippi. I think we just crossed it. Now look for New Orleans. No, no, it's marked by a string of beads. Do you see it? How close are we? NO, I don't need to turn on my GPS. I've got this MAP.'

On travel writing and Padstow, Cornwall

I just signed up for a Lonely Planet account with the views of eventually soliciting road trip companions--although I've received so many warnings of 'You'll be raped!' from well-intentioned friends that now I'm all paranoid-like--but anyway, until I figure out if that's a direction I want to go--soliciting the company of strangers, that is, not rape--I've at least taken the step of joining this huge travel community. And part of the profile set-up process includes a section for blog information. And, you know, I've got one and all, so I typed it in, and then it asked if I want it to be considered by the Lonely Planet team as a possible Blog They Like, and of course I clicked 'yes,' because hey, cool, a Lonely Planet Blog! They may think I'm useful and/or worth pimping out to other travelers! But now, after doing all that, I've come back to my blog and--wait a tick! I don't actually talk much travel! So now I'm all thinking I should do a post on backpacking through Laos and eating steamed dragon balls sold to me by a legless orphan in a busy marketplace, where I also took the opportunity to bathe myself for the first time in two months from the town well using nothing but the dirty rag tied around my neck before recycling the water for drinking purposes, that way when Lonely Planet comes to check me out they'll be all impressed, like, 'HERE'S a real traveler,' and then they'll include me in their blogroll and never look back, at which point I'll be free to resume writing about sitting at the kitchen table all day and they'll never know I'm a total fraud. Or that I'm prone to massive run-ons. It will be the scam of a century. Even hotter than the recent one I heard (thanks to a documentary just aired over here, although after some research, it appears this rumor has been ongoing for a few years now, get WITH it, England) about how America faked Neil Armstrong landing on the moon just to win the Cold War. Though I'm not gonna lie when I say I would probably be just as proud if the latter were true. Because awesome. We could do that.

I should probably post some more Cornwall photos now. Because, you know, I've got a travel blog. It's what I do, Lonely Planet.

These pictures were all taken in Padstow, the foodie mecca of Cornwall thanks to Rick Stein. Apparently he owns about half the town's property, as evidenced by the Stein Bakery, Stein Deli, Stein Patisserie, and the Stein I Can Cook Whatever the Heck I Want and You'll Eat It Because I'm Rick Stein. Word on the street he gets mad when you call Padstow 'Padstein,' but really, can you blame anybody? And also, how cool would it be if a town took on your name because your effect is so huge? Heck, if a town started to call itself Padselby, I'd be SO DOWN WITH THAT. In fact, I'm starting a movement right now: everyone, this is Padselby. Welcome.

You. Tell me what to name my next blog.

I just had a load of pancakes for breakfast. I don't know what I was thinking. It's ten a.m., and all I can think about is taking a nap.

I'm getting progressively ready for my soon-coming Great American Road Trip. I've checked out Bill Bryson's The Lost Continent from the library, and reading it so far I can say that I'm not only getting excited about all the bad diner food in my future, but I've also managed to strike through Mark Twain's house as a potential stopping point. So that feels pretty good. I'm also coming to the conclusion that the really Big Stuff, the national parks and whatnot, are all out west, which I will be hitting somewhere near...December or January. Peak season. So I've planned that well. Not that a little snow or 'closed' sign has ever stopped me before. But what I really want to see--just as much as giant crater lakes nestled inside of majestic mountain ranges--is rural American living at its finest. I want to go to church potlucks in Alabama and pumpkin festivals in North Carolina and see maple syrup being pulled in Vermont and eat a freshly caught lobster in Maine...you know, the good stuff. (That said, let me know if your church is having a potluck on the week I happen to be passing through. Because I will SO be there.)

It's just occurred to me that much of my to-do list appears to be centered around food. I wish I could say with a clear conscience that I was also interested in hiking and trekking, but...let's be honest.

It also just occurred to me that after two months of nothing but driving and eating (occasionally getting out of my car for a photograph or two), I will no doubt gain about twenty pounds. Awesome. By the time I get near the end of my journey, it will be like, 'Hey, where's the geyser in this picture?' 'I think it's somewhere behind Sharona's rear.' 'Is that a corn dog in her hand?' 'I think so.'

Naturally, I'll be shooting and blogging from the road so that you will (be forced to) feel like you are journeying with me. You will endure endless photos of New England in the Fall, you'll get to see what a highway in Illinois looks like, and you'll have to hear all about where I stopped for lunch. It will be GREAT. Plus I figure if I maintain my blog as I go, you'll know where to go search for my car if there are too many consecutive days of silence*.

But before I can hit the road, I once again need help coming up with my new blog name! The Great American Road Trip has already been taken (by someone who drove to ALASKA, so I begrudgingly admit he earned it), and so has On the Road, by some * hmph * who is totally wasting it. Especially since I would've loved to continue naming my blogs from Beat themes. I've also considered 'The American Road Trip,' but that's really just because I think it'd be funny to have a blog named TART, not because of any great affinity toward the name. So as you can tell, I'm not making it real far in this particular stage of the creative process. I need you. If you have any good road trip blog names up your sleeve, PLEASE let me know.

Also, any tips on the best road atlas to get?

*I will of course be ALIVE, just slightly dazed and confused. You are MORBID. But you should be forewarned that I am a TERRIBLE driver. Really appalling. I hit pretty much every stationary object I see, and the only reason I've never hit a car is because they're moving too fast. In fact, much of my blog may be spent lamenting the death of trees, mail boxes, light poles, or fences. You will probably be able to trace my path across America by the trail of destruction alone. Anybody who joins me for a leg of the journey, feel free to take the wheel, notably if you feel your life may be in danger. But rest assured that I probably won't kill you, just concuss you.