The second half of my trip took a ridiculous amount of time for some reason. I arrived in Milwaukee at 9:30 last night. I had been driving since 7:30am EST. 15 hours is a long drive. That is definitely a personal record for me.
Anyway, it's a good thing I spotted that lucky mullet yesterday morning. I think he put me in a fantabulous mood to begin the day (not to mention the beautiful weather, and equally beautiful drive through the mountains). I was truckin' along in Tennessee just the other side of the mountains when I came over a hill and saw a state trooper. There were two of us driving exactly the same speed. We both pulled into the slower lane behind a semi and I watched the squad in my rear view mirror pull out onto the freeway. The semi was going 60, so I decided to move around him, knowing full well that this would make me the one to get stopped. Sure enough, he flipped on his cherries as soon as I was in the left lane.
I pulled to the side of the road, grabbed my license and insurance card, and the little piece of paper that says I've applied for my plates (since I STILL don't have the title to my car or registration). He walked up to my window and stated point blank that I was going 82 in a 70. I handed him my stuff and he looked confused at the lack of registration. I told him the person that sold me the car hadn't cleared up the title yet and I was waiting on it. He then assumed the temp tag was the other person's, and I said no it was mine. He then looked at my license and asked if I still lived at the address in Tampa. I said, yes, I just moved there. He then asked me where I was headed - and I said I was going back home to Wisconsin to get the rest of my stuff from home. He glanced into the back of my car and asked if I was picking up a trailer, to which I replied no. He chuckled and asked why I was bringing so much back with me, and I told him I was going for 3 weeks. He laughed again and said he didn't think I could fit anything in there to bring back with me. I told him I was coming to get my bass and bass amp, and my pet rats - all things that I couldn't fly back with me. He nodded and said he would be right back.
I thought for sure I was going to have to pay bail immediately and I was wondering how much was available on my credit card as I slathered sunscreen on my shoulders to keep from toasting in the sun. He returned fairly quickly and handed my stuff back to me, along with a small piece of paper that he explained as a warning ticket. He then told me that everyone he pulls over, he walks his dog round to check for 4 substances and said this was my one and only chance to admit to anything before he did so. I said to go ahead and then watched this adorable black lab sniff around my car. He came around the driver's side and just said "have a nice trip back" as he headed back to his squad. HOW CRAZY IS THAT???
I've NEVER got out of a ticket that I completely deserved. He didn't even give me the "slow down" speech that most cops hand out along with their fines. I just couldn't believe it. So thank you, random Tennessee state patrolman for being ultra human and letting me off (even though I didn't do anything to deserve such a break). For the record, I did slow down until I got to Chicago. Then I drove like everyone else.
I was on the phone with Amy when I crossed into Wisconsin. It was a weird feeling. Driving through Chicago was a weird feeling too. Driving in general from Florida to Wisconsin makes me realize how far I actually live from everyone here. Seriously. So I called my brother when I got close to Milwaukee to find out where he was at so I could pick up his gas mask (hey - I really want to play Guitar Hero and go to the Milwaukee Group, but the smoke is just too much for me!). He told me to meet him at my grandparent's new place. So I went to The Regency on College Ave to see where my grandparent's now reside with other seniors. The apartment is huge, and very clean. My grandpa joked about how he was the oldest person living in the complex since the 92 year old woman died a couple weeks ago. I reminded him that even a couple weeks ago he was the oldest person there, because he's 94. Silly head.
My brother and aunt both said I looked tan as soon as I saw them. I still don't think so. I have a base tan. That's about it. But I don't look like a Florida beach bunny or anything. At least not yet. Give me this weekend and I will - camping at Green Lake.
Troy of course forgot the gas mask, so I had to stop by his house next. That was really bizarre. He recently purchased my grandparent's house (I know, my LITTLE BROTHER owns a freaking house). It's a complete mess in there. He's got such a HUGE project on his hands. I keep telling him to talk to Katherine or David or Debbie since they have all flipped houses (and with a relatively small budget) but he said "I want it done right" - that stubborn little shit. He doesn't believe you can do things right for cheap. I offered. Oh well.
Apparently there were all sorts of needles and shit all over the house from when my cousin lived with them. He said he found Pat's rig and Lynn found a stash of his heroin. There were blood and puke stains on the floor and walls. When he washed the walls in the back bedroom, the water came out black. That house needs to be gutted and rebuilt. The floors need to be retiled and carpeted. The woodwork is destroyed. The window frames are all rotted. It's a nightmare. But knowing my crazy brother, he will obsess and run himself completely ragged until it's finished and exactly the way he likes it. So if anyone in the Milwaukee area has some free time and wants to lend a hand, get a hold of me and I'll give you Troy's number! LOL
That's about all for now. I am getting ready to see my babies and give James his belated birthday present. I can't wait to cuddle with Poopy and Gir! :)
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