Singing Songs About Myself

I find that I stay awake much better on the road if I work on stories. So, I flesh out characters, think up surprising plot twists, and arrange marriages and murders in my head. Not only is it incredibly satisfying to get all this pseudo-work done, it also makes the miles melt in nothing flat.

So we had Swart Christmas today, and Jericho came over for it. Tami and my mom guffawed again about big ass ham, a joke that never gets old; a dog the size of a horse came and galloped around and around on my grandparents wood floors. Money was literally thrown at me, and I ate some of the best cheesecake of my life. My aunt and uncle invited me up to live with them in Grand Haven this year, which honestly is incredibly tempting. My four hours in the mitten was incredibly involved.

And the best part of my whole day is right now. I am sitting in a Steak and Shake off of I-80, just over the Iowa state line. And I am eating a frisco melt, and having a vanilla malt, and I am dangerous. I forgot how great this tasted. Steak and Shake is my husband. And new rule for life- don’t stop at the gas station and ask the little attendant from India where the Steak and Shake is. They’re vegetarian, they never eat here, and they probably give you wrong directions on purpose.

VIVA FRISCO!