(Note: I have discovered two new non-favorite activities: going up mountains, and coming down mountains. Add in LA drivers to that, and make sure the roads are nice and unfamiliar, and make it dark.)
I got to the mountains outside of LA before dark, happily. This time, neither Gorman, CA, nor gorman dumped sleet on me. Cheered, I pushed through LA as the sun set, and didn't stop until I hit Banning, where I refueled and got more caffeine for me. I hadn't wanted to stop until I got on I-10.
Some component in the files/iPod/tapedeck converter/tapedeck is giving pockets of silence. It's either the converter or the tapedeck, actually, and I'll probably replace the converter because that's cheaper.
I called amberfox and we chatted until I hit dead pockets just over the Arizona border. Headset ftw; dead pockets ftl; 1 bar battery left and 2+ hours to go ftl. Note to self: need car charger if there will be much car/cellphone.
Stopped at that truck stop outside Quartzite (again, brightkite vs. me fail) and promptly dropped my lip balm under the car when I got out. This coincided with a Weird Guy talking to some dude with a sporty little Saturn (yellow and black) and the dude was Not For Talking. The Weird Guy then dissed all Dodges, and Vash by extension. WTF, Weird Dude.
I developed a headache complete with light sensitivity by the time I hit 411th Avenue, and it was in full swing when I got home. However, as balm for my frazzled nerves, I also had a card from chemicalfuel (and vtwopointoh) awaiting me, as well as SHOES. (I see Making Light's point about belaboring the obvious, but it's above and beyond not-a-gesture-of-goodwill by leaps and bounds. This isn't a random pieing. I'm trying to think of an equivalent US-centric gesture of disrespect, but I'm coming up completely blank. Pointing the bottoms of my feet at someone was in Dad's list of gestures I needed to know so that I wouldn't make them by accident. [Did I mention lately that I approve of Dad's educational style?] The reporter might as well have accused W of wiping his ass with the US flag at a backyard BBQ attended by Marines.)
In News of the Cryptic, I have headed for new and surprising levels of bafflement, with corresponding *flail* and so forth. When a girl cannot have a satisfactory Girl Talk with her best friend, as said best friend is first Male and second has his phone on silent because he's studying, the girl defaults to chattering cryptically and rather excitedly at any gay little brothers she may have adopted off the internet. (Best place to get gay little brothers. I cannot recommend the internet enough as far as that goes. Though "as a stray kitten" also works.)