I never truly understood the name of the band Rage Against the Machine until we bought the TomTom Go 730 GPS system for our roadtrip.
I've nicknamed it the ShitShit. Because when you're full of rage against the machine, it's hard to come up with imaginative names.
To be fair to ShitShit, we only got it two days before the trip and neither Katr nor I had adequate time to familiarize ourselves with the various functionalities of the GPS before we took off.
And, as most of you know, I get very tense in the car when I have to operate gadgets because I am already extremely busy driving the car with my mind.
But we had figured out how to input an address and how to navigate towards it and that seemed good. And even though we had misplaced our North American atlas, we felt confident that we could rely on highway signs for our main route and the TomTom for the fancy, in-city bits. Like driving into Portland to meet one of my favourite bloggers, Dawn from this stony planet and swell!
You don't need a ShitShit to see where this is going.
Once we were well on the road, I whipped out the GPS to see how far away we were so that I could let Dawn know when we were going to show up. I turned the TomTom on. It told me to go fuck myself by turning itself off. After some keen observation on my part, I deduced that, after relatively minimal usage, the battery in the GPS had died.
No big deal. I plug the GPS into the car charger. The light does not come on. The car charger does not work.
I try plugging it into the other cigarette lighter port. Nothing. I fiddle with the charger, pushing, pulling, pushing harder, cussing. For naught.
We are mapless. The TomTom's blank screen mocks me.
Me: We still have the receipt for this piece of shit, right?
Katr: Call Dawn.
Thank god for Dawn and her ace directions to the best brunch in Portland. She was the wind beneath our angry, flappy wings. She treated Katr and I to a delicious brunch at gravy and we had a fantastic time chatting with her and her lovely ladyfriend Mera on an extremely hot Portland afternoon during a HUGE and unexpected street fair on their street (unexpected by *us*, I mean - obviously the people who participated in the fair were well aware of its existence.)
We asked what the streetfair was in honour of. I believe Dawn's response was "Fuck if I know." Oh, how we laughed. Then we posed for pictures.
I love meeting cool, smart, funny people from the Internet. It makes me feel smug. Thanks, Dawn and Mera! We look forward to reciprocating when you two come up to Vancouver. We'll feed you all the bacon you can handle.
After a lengthy pause at the fat girl store in Portland for ginch replenishment and atlas purchase, we pushed on to Eugene to retire for the evening. We ate Thai food and recharged the TomTom, grudgingly ready to give it a second chance.
Day 2 Roadtrip Redux:
Chambermaids at the Comfort Suites in Eugene have big smackdown fight as we're checking out. There are tears. Tears on the towels.
Hot. Hot in the car.
Katr's mom's flight to San Francisco gets delayed so she has to spend all night in Philly. While speeding down the highway, Katr tries to convince her mom that spending the night in the Philly airport isn't the best choice. Patr doesn't sound convinced.
Burger King's Lemonade ICEE tastes like bat urine. You're welcome.
Sirius Radio replays the same shows over and over. It's kind of like cable TV. 200 channels and sweet fuck all is on.
Don't stop at the Chevron in Winters, CA
As we roll across the Bay Bridge, I whip out the TomTom to guide us to the hotel in San Francisco, because it's complicated around the airport where the hotel is. The ShitShit does not give important information, like the actual name of the streets you should turn onto, but does say vague things like "Keep left. Then, make a U-turn."
Me: Make a U-turn.
Katr: Make a U-TURN? Where? How?
Me: I fucking hate this fucking piece of shit!!!!
Katr: I'm pulling over.
Between the ShitShit, the sparse street signs and the sheer force of Katr's will, we somehow make it to the Bay Landing Hotel in San Francisco. It is beautiful there. If you're looking for a nice, reasonable place to stay near the SF airport, you would do well to call.
Then, the next day, we picked up Patr from the airport and went to Sonoma for three days. More on that later. But now, a mental health tip:
It's the first day of BlogHer and I have discovered one key "don't" for you if you're planning on attending this conference at some point in the future:
Don't drive 18 hours with ShitShit and then spend 3 days sharing a hotel room with your mother-in-law before walking into a ballroom with 999 other bloggers in it. Because all you'll be able to do is blurt out "I blog about my gay dog" and then demand a mojito IV.
I'm still waiting on the IV. And someone just informed me that there was an episode of South Park that featured a gay dog. Those fuckers are ALWAYS STEALING MY IDEAS.