I Would Like To Think Our Paths Are Straight

Maslov's hierarchy of needs lists achievement in the second to highest category, meaning that it the second thing that can be stripped away without any reparable damage being done. I'm skeptical on this. I like achieving goals and receiving awards (also in the 2nd to highest group). The only way I get things done is by challenging myself to do them, and then rewarding myself (usually with a 'take that' to the version of me that said I couldn't do it).

Because of this, I've decided to hand out a couple of awards concerning the Florida-to-Utah cross country trip I just finished. Some are good, some are bad, but all are deserving.

Most impressive state: Oklahoma. I know what your thinking. How on earth could Oklahoma be considered impressive. Here's how. For starters, the speed limit is 75 all the way through. It's like they realized that anyone driving in their state, is merely driving through their state and would like to do so as quickly as possible. Additionally, for the first time ever, an office let me off with a warning instead of writing a ticket. I was something along the lines of 9 for 9 before that (wow, that sounds like a lot of tickets. In my defense, I spread them out fairly evenly). Granted, I was only going about 82 in the 75, so I wasn't exactly a menace to the other drivers, but I was nevertheless stunned to be let go without having to pay any money or sit through yet another defensive driving course. New Mexico was in the running because of the their 75 mph speed limit, but the weather got rough as I was exiting there, and that really cost them.

Least impressive state: Arizona. Horrible weather across the entire state. The worst part was that I chose the path through Arizona because I though it would help me avoid horrible weather. Could not have been more wrong. Snow dumped all through the night and into the next afternoon. Major highways were closed. Traffic was slowed to a grind, if not completely stopped. And to top it all off, at one point, the car behind me caught some ice, over-corrected, went across the entire road and rolled onto it's side, just off the road. You want to know what bring your senses to full attention? Watching the car behind you suddenly wind up with it's wheels in the air.

Most valuable organ: Bladder. Came through like a champ, eliminating any extra stops.

Least valuable organ: Nerves. Specifically, the ones that remind me just how cold it was every time I had to fill up for gas. You might hear me complain about the cold for a while. I know I brought this on myself, but when you spend the past 365 days with the weather being under 75 degree for only 5 of those days, you lose your grip on how 15 degrees feels. Now, I'm just losing feeling in my grip.

Most desperate restaurant: 72 ouncer. There's a restaurant (I don't know it's name because they never advertised it) in Amarillo, TX, that has the classic eat-this-massive-steak-and-it's-free gimmick. You can't miss it because they start advertising along I-40 in Arkansas. Two state away, and they're tossing up billboards. Did I think about pulling in? Yes. Did I think about trying to tackle that beast? Not for long. I've eaten a 32 ouncer in one sitting. It's a lot of meat. I couldn't imagine eating two of them and then chasing it with an 8 oz slab. That is a gustatory feat I hope to never be able to accomplish.

Favorite part of the car (non-Ma Lady division): Seat warmer. Do they make couches that can do that? I'd buy one today.

Least favorite part of the car: Layer of filth. Oh my goodness. I just washed and waxed the thing before I left, and now it's a wreck. I'm a little embarrassed to introduce it to my friends. It's like I have one of those girlfriends who demands to put makeup on in the morning, only today my friends, who haven't met her yet, are coming over early. They can tell she has a nice body, but then they take a closer look and it's just a disaster. I still love her though, but it's not putting her best foot forward. (Side note- Don't really want one of those types of girlfriends, but I thought the analogy was fitting.)

Best support: The Gordens. They were more or less on the way, and when you haven't even met your friend's 2.5 year old son, nor his couple month old daughter, you better make a stop. So they let me stay at their house (It's beautiful, by the way) and hang out with them and their kids for a day. That experience taught me two things about having little kids: First, they make you feel alive. Watching them, you get to vicariously experience things for the first time. Everything is amazing. Everything is borderline magical. Water fountains are the coolest things in the world and the promise of a cookie can resolve any pain or discomfort.

The other thing I learned was that they make you feel exhausted. I spent one day. I kid you not, I thought it was three by the time I went to bed. It was fun while it was going on, but the second it stopped, I was looking for a pillow. Doing that everyday? Kudos to all the parents out there. I'm sure I could do it, but you definitely get a boost by it being your own child.

Had a blast with them, and they sent me on my way with some tootsie rolls. Really can't ask for much more than that.

Best technological advancement since last cross country trip: Smart Phone. Check emails in the middle of Texas? Of course. Research hotels while cruising through New Mexico? Done. Listen to Pandora when the only radio station is some financial news (Like anyone in Central Oklahoma was interested in how the stock market was doing?)? Easy Kapeezy. When I got back to the states, I wasn't sure if I wanted to get one. Now I'm very glad I did.

Word.