OTR: The Adventures of Charlotte Bliss. Palm Tree Inn, Courtland, VA.

Steam could've come off my feet they were so motel-cold in to the Virginia corn-rows balm on my way six doors down for my free continental breakfast.  Had planned on camping last night in Virginia Beach, at the State Park on the ocean, but was so high from my late sun drive over and through the fifteen miles of Chesapeake Bay tunnel that I had to keep going. It was that time of 7pm light I so love so I headed west with the intent of making my way towards the mountains.  Besides my instinct is what I rely on in these matters, these road trip matters, these living life in the moment completely aware alive so alive matters, and my instinct, gold-fingered mass there raised up from my gut to my chest, was soft and aloft and most of all, full of a mmomentum which is the opposite of stop.

The moon was the gold hook capital letter C, largest letter in the whole alphabet so large had it been full the other letters would've gathered together to kick her out of their club.  Who she think she is to shine so big and bright?  She sat and led me quiet, just above the tips of the trees.

I drink too much caffeine and will have to switch to decaf.   In the mirror when I returned with my honey bunches of oats and two cups of coffee this morning I saw my reflection tan and very blonde and thought who is that girl, woah, someone who's lived at the beach a nice good while now.  And those days, every one, brought back to me what is important to me, made me joyous and concerned only with the joy matters of who I am.  So much of life to love, of love to live, of people who are amazing and dancing, and writing, and the ocean and beach and being outside.  Not one minute to waste on not appreciating this being alive.  And for that my body is on a schedule kept livened by iced coffee and afternoon shots of espresso and night times fired by Rock Stars and Red Bull.  I climbed in to bed thinking--yes!  For the first time in two weeks I will sleep by 11 and get eight hours the way a common person should.  Ha there is the laughable joke, never one to live by shoulds in fact should is my reddest devil--I lay there awake in front of HBO until close to 2 and then never really fell in to a steady sleep.  The last week I was in town at the beach I didn't fall to bed before 4 am one single night, so here in my forty dollar motel room off Route 58 my body high-wired and pumping kept me in a fit caffeine-eyed half-way between sleep and when-i'm-gonna-get-to-california...

I haven't been someone who frets in a long while so to be mostly waking through out the night told me one thing.  No more late night 32-ounced iced-coffee driving.  I am heading to the Smoky Mountains today, and will camp, and be earthy rhythmic again, winding down long and elemental as it takes me to return natural to my own inside drums.

In the meantime my brother Sean and his wife are home from their time living in Memphis, Jotto made me sob with goodbye, so did Shankel. Justin, Ben, Kayla, and Erin and Eddie each made me cry.  I am someone today who cries with her eyes open and heart wide, happy to be feeling what it feels to be alive.  So lucky is the woman who is loved, and considered a good friend.