“now they tried to hang me down in Oakland and they did in Frisco, but I wouldn’t choke and I broke their rope and they had to let me go.”
Bad news travels fast, much like I’m doing right now. Bouncing along interstate 90 in western Wisconsin I look out over darkness and snow drifts. It’s a somber sort of look, monotone and lifeless, but I actually like it. There’s an eerie silence of snow, almost as if you tried to scream you’d make no noise. Its an inspiration to look out at, too, primarily because when given nothing but white and black to look at, your mind goes towards other things…like potatoes.
Okay, okay, maybe that’s just because I’m here in the land of heartily fed farm workers and my diet had been leaving me a bit wanting. The diet, evil four letter word, sort of like debt and bill and flat.
My imagination actually wandered towards a conversation I had yesterday with a friend of mine that had been trying to cheer me along on the pathway to sobriety. He’s pretty good about keeping it real with me, and after several instances of me attempting sobriety, he’s still keeping it real. Harsh reality is what the girl needs to hear that is living inside of me that wants to be a little bitch. I opened that information with wide arms. Sock it to me, bucko, sock it to me.
Free spirit + alcohol = bad news
Wait. What?! It all made sense all off a sudden. Think if all of those free spirits of the sixties and seventies, amazing talents, but damn, they burnt out. They burnt out before they faded away, and I was getting dangerously close to being a burnt marshmallow.
Here’s the cool thing about that, if I were an actual marshmallow, if be on the stick poised over a fire ready to become a s’more, but I decided not to. Sure, sure, I’ve been away from that perverbial fire before, but there was always something pulling me towards the fire, somebody or something tempting me to the heat and danger. Many times I got a bit scorched, but wounds healed and I would set away from the fire. Right now, I’m finally in a winning position, I know because I can see it in my own eyes, and when you can look into your own eyes and see hope and eagerness for living, you know you’re on to something good.
To add to that ambition, I’m in a state of Flux. My car payment is due, unemployed, and wondering what the future will bring, I decided to pursue REAL writing again, you know, the kind that pays you. I spent the morning looking for contacts high and low to submit articles to and realized that there isn’t anything that I DON’T want to write about. Collecting, racing, running, cooking, I’ll do it. I don’t have a passion about a topic anymore, I have a passion to create anything and everything.
I’m now bouncing along the road with my amazing RV transporter of a boyfriend at my side and I’m playing the role of navigator. I get to look at maps and places all day, I get to daydream about going places and seeing new places. Today it was (and will be tomorrow) New York. (see pictures below)
I’m going to be writing from the road for the blog site for a little while until I find a “real” job or at least land a few freelance gigs (if you know anybody, send them my way). So, if you’re feeling generous and want to make a contribution to “sober Nikki traveling across the country” please contact me or make a donation via PayPal. Every donation will be personally thanked and you’ll go on a private email list to receive photos from the road and exclusive contributer only press (like I did on the shark trip). Also, feel free to forward “the adventures” to friends and family that have a sense of adventure but perhaps lack the ability to go.
Cool thing about this rolling in the truck business as well is that there is no way in hell I could ever touch him a drop of alcohol. My transporter loves me too much to let me go down that dark dangerous path again. My free spirit is no longer + alcohol. The equation is now:
Free Spirit + Clean Living = Creativity Overload
Gotta get back to reading maps.