the sound of failure

i've been gone a long time b/c i've been sticking my hand in the cage of a bear who bites.
i know he bites.
he bites and then retreats to the corner to plan his next attack.
it's not the bear's fault, i know he bites.

okay-
i have a masters degree.
not so much is it in topography or geography.
nor is it in common sense- obviously.

i hate admitting it, but i got lost- really lost- on my way from st. louis to nashville.
i also got a speeding ticket, but that's the norm.

as for getting lost, i was chatting on the phone to my favorite tennis pro, telling him the story of this time i left knoxville to head to nashville, drove 50 miles, stopped for gas, got back on the interstate and ENDED UP BACK IN KNOXVILLE before i realized i was going the wrong way on I-40. no fucking lie, as i am telling this story, i start to notice that the exits on my "interstate" are looking way less interstate. like let's pop 3 feet of the highway to get gas instead of let's take the 2 mile off ramp to get gas in tehran.

soooo, i say- hold on i've got to check this sign to see what city i'm passing.
then i say, fuck i think i'm lost, let me call you back.

stop.
get gas.
look at map.

the interstate i'm supposed to be on is 70 miles north of my gas station.
did i mention that i quit smoking on tuesday?
well, i took a hiatus from the land of healthy lungs, my friends.
i also broke my "there's no crying in road trips" rule.

a pack of marlboro ultra light 100's and a diet berry-who-the-fuck-knows what else dr. pepper later, i am making loops in south east missouri.

as i'm prayin for the new madrid fault to rip and put me out of my misery, i get stuck behind a cattle truck. these trucks are the reason i eat beef 3 times a year; well the trucks and some gastro-intestinal revolutions that we won't discuss.

so i'm stuck behind a cattle truck on a state highway that will later dead end at the mississippi/ohio river (oh yes peeps- look closely on the blacklines on your maps. some don't cross the river). and i see a sign that says "you can't stop drop and roll in hell".
nice.
then i get lost again in charleston, missouri.
cute little town.
sixteen cigarettes and 2 hours later, i am on the road to paducah with a sore throat and an aching back. an aching, wretchedly painful back that brought some other girly pains to the pain party in my body.

the party made me go to the doctor today.
an event that takes me to tomorrow's ultra-sound.

can you say intravaginal?
well, i can too.
and so can my doctor.
and soon will my therapist.