The Eagle Has Landed, I Repeat The Eagle Has Landed

Hello everyone! I hope your weeks were more fabulous than the thought of Star Wars' Princess Leia as a "Disney Princess." (It's a thought that makes me chuckle every time.)

Well, I did it! After 1,400 miles, 26 hours on the road and an unfathomable amount of terrible gas station coffee, I made it to Arizona!

Of course, I was the genius who decided that the day after I competed all day in the Spokane Highland Games should be the day I pack all of my stuff into the back of a rental truck and move. So one day after doing this:

And this:

I was loading everything I own on this planet (shout out to the folks who came and helped) into the back of a truck and setting off for Arizona. To answer your question, no my muscles have still not forgiven me.

My View for 99% of the Trip

Then there came the three-day journey to my new home in Glendale, Arizona. My mother and grandmother were in charge of the moving van, I was in charge of the car containing the cats.

For those of you who have never had the pleasure of trying to drive with two cats in the car, let me tell you, if you want the true horror movie experience without the chainsaws or ghosts then nothing will get you closer.

Not an Accurate Representation of This Trip

I had made a small area in the back of my car with the kitties' litter box, some towels for them to lay on and attached them to little harnesses and leashes so that they couldn't come to the front where I was driving... or so I thought.

What immediately happened was Santeria, who is agoraphobic beyond even Detective Monk levels, curled up in her litter box and screamed for two hours straight. She then moved to the comfort of her kitty crate, which was also in the back, and continued to scream from there.
 
Now when I say "screaming," I literally mean screaming. It sounded like I was murdering a woman in a Hitchcock-esque fashion as I was driving.

The few times she left the litter box or the crate to explore the car she would peer out the windows for just as long as it took for me to find the slightest curve or bump in the road and then she would skitter back to safety and start screaming again.

Voodoo, as it turns out, I named incorrectly. I should have named her Houdini as she figured out multiple ways to escape her little kitty harness and the leash. I would be driving along and suddenly Voodoo would be underneath my seat playing with my ankles or attempting to climb on the dashboard.

Adorable but Untrustworthy

Finally, after getting her back in her harness for the 27th time, Voodoo settled for creeping over my shoulder for a majority of the trip. It was from this position that she spent the rest of the drive hissing at anything that she deemed inappropriate and sometimes smacking me in the face because whatever it was was obviously my fault.

So basically my trip down to Phoenix wrangling cats could probably have been used as training for special operatives who are about to be sent in the field to disarm landmines. They would have nerves of steel after three days trapped in a car with the constant screaming, random bats to the head and ankles and playing the "where did that cat get to now!?" game while driving 70 miles an hour.

Well I'm here, I'm exhausted but I'm alive and excited to see what adventures Arizona will bring!

As always, I can be found on Facebook and Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and my books can be found here!

Ch-ch-ch-changes!

Hello everyone! I hope your weeks have been more fantastic than the thought of a thousand free-range lemmings synchronized diving to Queen's Don't Stop Me Now!

Sadly, that could accurately describe my life right now, which is why this post is so late. My bad. But maybe you'll cut me a little slack. You see in the past two weeks I have accepted a position at a graduate school in Arizona, sold my truck, bought a car, quit my job, had to find a new place to live, begun the packing process and basically am about three seconds away from going utterly and completely insane.

The picture to the right is what my apartment currently looks like.

Yes indeed, that mass of boxes and a nearly buried bookcase basically sums up my earthly possessions. At this point I am truly sad that there is no incredible transporter room like on the Enterprise that can beam my belongings directly to Arizona. Nerd sigh.

I promise that when I move and get settled in, I will begin posting again with more regularity. I also swear I will get back to posting on Case (Un)Managed, but with life currently in it's unmanageable state, I'm afraid I have had to temporarily let that one sit for a second as well.

So the next time I post, if everything goes according to plan, I will be posting from Arizona. Of course for that to happen I need to get everything I own into the back of a truck and then somehow convince my two agoraphobic cats that spending a couple days cooped up in a vehicle listening to me belt 80's music isn't so bad.

Wish me luck.

In other news, Free the Shorts! has had a successful run so far! As I write this post it is sitting at #1 on Amazon Kindle's Humor and Entertainment Essays list! Here are what the reader reviews are saying thus far:

"...it's worth a Five-Star rating, hands down."

"It's hard to be grumpy or continue to have a bad day if you read anything Allison writes- she is an absolute laugh riot"

"Hahahahaha. So good I went right out and bought the next book."

"Hilarious! I loved the HULK SMASH chapter and the part about the raccoon. Allison Hawn is very funny." 

Thank you to everyone who has read a copy so far! If you haven't yet, go grab your free copy and give it a read! If you enjoy it, post a review! 

As always I can be found on Facebook and Twitter and my books can be found here!

Putting All Your Chips On The Table

Well hello all! I hope everyone has had a more marvelous week than the thought of a thousand cacti arranged to form the Millennium Falcon.

This past week I had the awesome chance to go toodle around Arizona for a few days (which is why I have been a tad lax on updates, apologies).

Arizona is an wondrous place, full of sunshine, cacti and really odd street names (Bloody Basin Road and Bee King Road among them).

 
As a resident Spokanite, I haven't really seen sunlight since Tinkerbell was saying, "In color!" before the start of every Disney film. 

Is that an exaggeration? Maybe, but having just survived another bone-chilling winter, I was ready for some sun.

I was also exceedingly ready for a break from work. Don't get me wrong, I love my clients, but you can only say, "Stop licking the walls!" and, "Take those panties off of your head!" so many times before it begins to wear on your little grey cells.

I was finally getting away from it all... or so I thought.

Just because I'm on vacation does not mean that I wish to stop working out, so I was overjoyed to find that the hotel in Arizona my mother, grandmother and I were staying in had a workout area.

I was far less overjoyed when I opened the door to their mini-gym and was met by a wave of body odor and booze. No one was in there at that exact moment, but there was a super-classy box of chardonnay sitting on top of the weight bench with a myriad of potato chips surrounding it like some kind of shrine to gluttony.

Of Course I Took a Picture With A Dinosaur Head

I snagged the box of wine to take up to the front desk, but paused when, from an outside door that had been propped open, a schnockered looking man entered. 

When he saw me holding the box of wine he gave me a shocked look worthy of a daytime soap opera and quickly exited again.

I took the box of wine to the front desk who said they would take care of it. 

The next morning, in an insane rash of optimism, I decided to try the workout room again. I knew I should have just gone running when I opened the door and was slapped in the face by body odor, booze and the additional fragrance of urine.

I peered around the corner and found myself looking at the same individual I had previously spotted. Wolfing down chips with one hand and downing fowl smelling rum and cheap wine as his chasers, the man lounged on the weight equipment staring at the TV screen.

"Hey bud!" I said.

He slowly turned as I continued, "Are you supposed to be in here?"

His mouth full of chips and dank smelling rum he blearily looked at me, looked down at his chips, and then offered them to me.

I just shook my head and headed for the front desk to inform them that they had failed to get rid of their unregistered guest.

What lessons did I learn from my little Arizona adventure?

1. When you are caught breaking into a hotel's weight room to settle in to drink and pee, there is no amount of chips you can use to barter yourself out of that situation.

2. There is no taking a vacation from a bizarre life. 

Quick announcement: Due to the fact that I wish to focus more on my writing projects, this blog will be moving from a weekly format to a bi-weekly format. Of course if you want a more frequently updated way to follow my misadventures, come find me on Facebook and Twitter (@AllisonHawn)!

Driving Me Nuts... In Seattle

Hello everyone! I hope you all had weeks that were more wonderful than the thought of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory reenacted by dragons!

This past week I had the opportunity to go to Seattle. Technically the trip was so I could go to a mandatory training for my job, but that doesn't mean I didn't get to go look at some pretty ocean scenery and hit Pike Place Market.

The Peace and Calm is Deceptive

It has been a very long time since I was last in Seattle (shameful considering I live in Spokane, I know).

Somehow I forgot one major factor: Seattle traffic is a bit like trying to navigate a Salvador Dali painting.

So for those of you who may in the future travel to Seattle by the magical mechanical wonder known as the 'motor vehicle,' I have composed a short manual to help you survive your trip.

The Roads Have More Curves Than Marilyn Monroe

When I first arrived in Seattle I was struck by how few trucks and SUV's I saw, which are basically mainstays everywhere else in the Northwest. Then I had to traverse to my hotel in my Dodge pick-up and quickly realized why.

Whoever planned Seattle's streets apparently was not a fan of using a ruler. In fact I'm pretty sure that Seattle's roads were based off of a plate of spaghetti that someone had thrown against the wall in frustration. I found myself praying that I wouldn't roll my truck just trying to make it off the freeway (which made a u-turn, followed by a turn in the opposite direction, followed by a steep curvy road that ended with a slew of confusing signs).

Seattle Apparently Gives Out Driver's Licenses In Cracker Jack Boxes, No Tests Required!

At least that is my assumption based off the ass-hattery that I witnessed. To be fair there seems to be two distinct kinds of Seattle drivers:

Type 1: The "invincible" driver. This kind of driver believes that no matter which way they jerk the steering wheel at a moment's notice they will somehow emerge unscathed.

Turn signals? Bah! Staying in one lane? Why would one do that!? After all, they are still alive, which proves their point right?"

Type 2: The "I've set my cruise control to a snappy 35 miles per hour" driver.

It does not matter what the speed limit is, you could be in a 70 mile per hour speed zone and this person will be going 35. It could be a 25 mile per hour zone, they will still be going 35. Furthermore, they will change lanes at random intervals, but instead of deciding to change lanes and doing so they just lazily inch over to the next lane, blocking two lanes of traffic for as long as they possibly can.

Put these two types of driver on the road together en masse and you have utter chaos.

Parking? We Don't Need No Stinkin' Parking!

I'm relatively sure that Oompa Loompas driving Smart Cars were the ones who decided how big parking spaces in Seattle should be. In some half-baked effort to squeeze as much real estate out of what space Seattle has for resting vehicles, they decided to aim for the smallest possible parking spots. Forget parking a truck in Seattle, there are spots that make parking a Mini Coop like trying to dock the Titanic at a dock designed for a paddle boat.

The Seattle Residents' Response To Tiny Parking Spots? "We Will Be The Worst At Parking Ever!"

Not only is parking sparse and tiny, but people in Seattle seem to be competing for the "Worst At Parking" Award.

I literally watched one person in a Jetta take a whopping six parking spots at once at a Safeway. At that point you have to be making a conscious effort to be that terrible.

Driving Is A Bit Like Gambling

It is obvious that Seattle's road crews have done their best to keep up with a growing population, expanding the transportation infrastructure to allow for more motorists. However, in expanding and changing a lot of the roadways they forgot one important step: Get rid of the old road lines that used to define which lane was which.

There were points where driving through Seattle I literally had to guess at which lines meant I was in the correct lane and which lines would lead me into a road barrier somewhere down the way. I wasn't the only one who was obviously confused either. On multiple occasions I watched as other drivers, sure that they were following the correct lines, suddenly swerved across traffic in attempt to follow a curve in the road that no longer existed.

Seattle Has Your Strange Road Signs Beat

 Never in my life before have I seen a sign that read, "Caution: Hidden Driveways," much less see it on nearly every other block in some areas.

It made me wonder what the hidden driveways were plotting. Should I be worried about a hidden driveway ambush?

In any case, aside from trying to navigate without losing my mortal life, I quite enjoyed my time in Seattle. Is there another place you know of with fun driving habits? Let me know in the comments below!

As always my adventures can be closely followed on Facebook and Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and you find my books here.

We're Not In Kansas Anymore...

Hello all! I hope you had a more fabulous week than the thought of a Civil War reenactment fought with marshmallow guns!

Well, I had a lovely little adventure this past week (and by "lovely" I mean "bizarre and unbelievable," of course).

I was a bridesmaid in a wedding (Congratulations to Annie and Caleb Reynolds!!!), which was located about two and a half hours away from where I live.

The wedding rehearsal was set for the night before the big day.

"No big deal, I'll just drive over there directly after work and everything will be dandy!"

I lived in that optimistic delusion for approximately forty-five miles of interstate. Suddenly, I was met with a sea of brake lights and I found that the interstate had been transformed into a parking lot.

Now, please keep in mind that I drive a 1993 Dodge Dakota that has working air conditioning approximately half of the time. The odds were not in my favor that day as the summer sun pounded down on our immobile vehicles. My truck became an oven on wheels as I sat, still in my work clothes, in the middle of the slowest seventy mile per hour zone I have ever been in. Legless turtles in molasses could have made it to Prosser, Washington before me.

At one point I turned off my truck's engine, got out and started a conversation with my fellow captives. None of us could figure out what the hold-up could be.

It is construction season in Washington, but usually that only slows things up as opposed to creating a dead stop. One guy postulated that there must have been a multi-car wreck, but no one had seen ambulances going the other way which would have indicated such a catastrophe.

Finally, after over an hour someone up ahead yelled, "I think we have movement!"

Excitedly we all rushed back to our vehicles, started our engines and waited in anticipation. The car ahead of me began to roll forward and I followed, relieved to finally be moving. Then their brake lights flashed on and we were stopped again, a whole foot and a half gained.

We inched onwards like this for nearly an hour. Miles of cars were piled up behind me as we trudged ever onwards towards our seemingly impossible destination.

Finally, after having been thoroughly roasted in my own vehicle, I crested a small hill and saw that I was near the front of the line to escape the mass of trapped cars.

I also saw what had created our two hours of traffic purgatory: A two story house had fallen off of a trailer and had landed smack in the middle of the interstate.

Yep, you read correctly, someone dropped a two-story house and created a several mile long parking lot on a seventy mile per hour stretch of road. As I drove by I half expected to see the Wicked Witch of the East's feet curl up and vanish under the house while the Wicked Witch of the West yelled, "I'll get you my pretty and your little dog Toto too!"

As I inched forward I got the opportunity to watch a tractor pull the second story off of the road.

My two and a half hours road trip turned into a four and a half hour long test of my ability to not scream at slow moving vehicles. When I finally did arrive, well after the rehearsal was completed, and explained my predicament my friend Annie just shook her head and said, "Only you would travel to The Magical Land of Oz and leave to try and make it to a wedding rehearsal."

So what lessons can be learned from my little misadventure?

1. Make sure you properly tie down any and all houses you might want to move. Particularly if you are going to be transporting them on the main artery through a state so that you don't give it a coronary or kill any unsuspecting witches.

2. You can cook an egg on the hood of my truck on a hot day. Granted, I didn't have an egg to test this with, but considering my plastic water bottle melted there, I'm guessing it could effectively fry an egg.

Don't forget to follow all my adventures on Facebook,  Twitter (@AllisonHawn) and Goodreads!

Excitement and Dinosaurs Squared!

Hello Ladies, Gentlemen and any Mayan gods that are currently feeling neglected by their followers! I have so much exuberantly exciting news for today that I am literally doing a butt-wiggle of happiness in my seat as I write this!

I actually have no idea which of these things I should start with, so I guess I will go in chronological order.

On June 13 (yes, Friday the 13th), I will be at Hyde Park Books in Boise, Idaho for a book signing! The event will be from 7 pm until... well, whenever you all stop arriving or disastrous meteor shower whichever comes first.

The address to the shop is:

1507 N. 13th St.
Boise, Idaho 83702

I would absolutely love to see you all there, chat and write fun things (and possibly draw what passes in my world as pictures) in your copies of "Life is a Circus Run by a Platypus."

If that wasn't enough excitement in one blog post for you, then I invite you to keep reading. This past week I signed the publishing contract on my second book "Life is a Pirate Ship Run by a Velociraptor!"

Yes, you read that right, "Life is a Pirate Ship Run by a Velociraptor!"

I'm afraid I don't have any further details, not even a release date to give you all, yet. However, I promise that more and more news will be headed your way.

To stay up to date make sure you follow me here, Twitter (@AllisonHawn), Facebook and Goodreads!