Florida is not Iran, and other bad comparisons.

If you've stood anywhere near me lately you've probably periodically heard me say "ROOOOAAADD TRIPPP!" and do a little dance.  After awhile you may have even figured out that means I'm taking a road trip down the east coast by my lonesome.

There's a 50% you tried to warn me that I am a helpless woman and should probably stick to driving to the super market and back*, lest I get rape/murdered/lost/fall off a mountain/mountain lioned/into a knife fight/conned out of my fortune/"saved"/my car just collapses in a heap and YES, I've seen Deliverance, thank you.

Where am I planning on going?  Glad you asked.  Here's a map so you can keep track of me!


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If you want a post card for your fridge make sure I have your address!


*minor exaggeration.

Hannah is an axe murderer.

There's a park near my house with a statue paying homage to Hannah Duston.

Here's a colorful version of Hannah's story.  In short, she was captured by Native Americans in 1697 and tomahawked her way out of that shit.  She is the first woman in the U.S. honored with a statue.  (... go ladies?) In 1897 the statue pictured above was erected in Haverhill, Hannah's home town.

I bought a point and shoot camera recently.  My new pocket-pal.  Now I can easily walk around Haverhill documenting the things I see.  You know, like my feet and Uncle Eddie's Needful Things.

I went on a castle visit.  No wizards present.

Looked at some of the pretty houses in my neighborhood.  (Seriously, these are within blocks of my apartment. Haverhill is a nice place. Don't believe that shit you hear.)

And here's some pretty flowers from the trees at the park, just to round out this tour.

So what did we learn today, kids?

That's right.  Haverhill is fancy.

Beulah is an anarchist.

I own two cats. 

Lovey: An orange ball of perfect who I have had for 14 years and I can never recall her EVER doing a bad thing, ever.

                             


And Beulah: Who is an anarchist.








I adopted Beulah as an innocent-looking grey puff from Pets In Need in December. Since this time she has tripled in size (there was no warning of this in the adoption papers.  Imagine if you bought a Smart car and it became a minivan.).  As she is an orphan I can only speculate as to who her parents were and how she ended up here.

It is my current working theory that they are democratic activists here on some sort of political asylum. When I see her looking out the window I hear her mumbling things like "If this is what they call "democracy" I want no part of this.  This is not freedom, as promised. These people are not free... they are part of the MACHINE."

Typical teenage rebellion.

She has this odd accent too.  I think she's from the Balkans.

One day I came home to this and found Beulah screaming at the top of her lungs about making "pamphlets" and "taking down the man". I have tried to explain that she can take down the man on her own time, but while under MY roof she follows MY rules.

She told me rules are for cowards and she would not "engage the oligarchy".

Honestly, if it was just that mumbo-jumbo that teens go on about where they use big words to sound smart talking about subjects they have no idea about, that would be one thing.  But it's really having an effect on the home life of Lovey and I.  Beulah told me she "doesn't believe in property" so she regularly rearranges the apartment and takes things that don't belong to her and hides them. She also has an insanely irregular sleep pattern (sleep pattern anarchy?). Sometimes she goes to bed at 2AM and wakes Lovey and I up at 5AM demanding breakfast.

One day I found her playing with a knife.  I told her that was ill advised and her eyes rolled so hard back into her head I thought they were going to get stuck and then she just loudly spat "WHATEVER" at me.

I just hope this is a passing phase. She was such a sweet baby.  I don't even want to talk about this odd hobby she has she calls "thunder hoofin'" where she runs through the apartment fast as she can trying to make as much noise as possible.  I tried to ask her why she does that, but to tell you the truth when she mentioned the word "despotism" I stopped listening.

I'm at my whits end with the electrical wire chewing.  She said the pain is worth the 30 second high...What do you even say to that?

Yesterday she told me she's thinking about "dabbling in the occult".  I don't honestly think she has any idea what she's talking about.  I think she just wants to justify sacrificing one of the birds outside the window.

I also need to warn any potential house guest that Beulah does not respect privacy while someone is in the bathroom.  She has explained to me that once she can have privacy whenever and wherever she wants I can have privacy in the bathroom.  And don't for one second think locking the door will stop her from enforcing this. She calls it part of her "active resistance".

***While this is all BASED on a true story of my life with Beulah, there is SOME minor exaggeration to get my point across.  She has never actually used the word "despotism" in a full sentence.***

I still don't regret adopting her. She's a great pet who has a home with me for life.

Please adopt!

There's 5 to 7 MILLION animals that enter shelters each year, and 3 to 4 million are euthanized (70% of the cats!)  If you already have a cat or dog don't forget to spay or neuter and be part of the solution.

...Yeah, but WHY?

Settled in 1640 Haverhill, MA is a great historical town along the Merrimack River.  Decisions had to be made as to where I would live.  So decide I did.  My criteria was pretty simple; I needed somewhere not too far from NH, still on the commuter rail, and cheap.

I needed a place to live.  It's right there on the bottom of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, shelter.  I know I had safe temporary housing, but I needed a spot to really call "home".

Also, Lovey HATES dogs and kept threatening to run away if we didn't move away from these uncivilized beasts ASAP.  One time I swear I saw her putting anti-freeze into the dog bowls, but when I asked her about it she denied it and who wouldn't believe this face?

My move was SO smooth, like Shaft, due to the fine upstanding citizens of this earth who showed up to help. Here's a group shot we posed for:

Frankly, I mostly moved to Haverhill because there's a muthafuckin' castle! 

...Okay, I visited the "castle" and calling that a castle is little like declaring your pillow fort is Fort Bragg. But none the less it's a pile of rocks formed into a castle-like building.

So, stay tuned loyal readers as I get to know the city of Haverhill (population 60,879) and wow you with all it has to offer.  I declare this a year in Haverhill.  Maybe I'll write a book...