All the world don't got keys to their own ignition

My my my, how things quickly change. I'm back from vacation and feeling very different than I was before I left. Is it better than I was feeling? I've been honest with a lot of different people over the last few weeks and it takes a weight off your shoulders but doesn't always have the best result. So it depends what your definition of "better" is and I don't really care to analyze that right now. 


Being out west for a week definitely helped quell some of that sense of adventure I felt I was lacking. Although I kind of knew this before, I love driving. I love driving alone. I love driving alone through the desert. I wasn't actually alone on this trip but it was still a great feeling. Driving, while alone, while smoking, while listening to whatever the fuck I feel like listening to helps me connect with that "brooding lesbian" I want to be. After therapy every week I allow myself half an hour to drive on the highway and either slam on the gas listening to the Scissor Sisters or watch the dotted lines go by listening to Rufus.  


Driving makes me feel like a badass (bad-ass, bad ass?). Those who know me see how far-fetched that actually is from who I am. I've always been one to try and live life as if I were in a movie - not thinking through the consequences of things I say because, isn't it just gonna fade to black anyway? Serenading women at their windows believing they'll dump their current girlfriend once they hear me play guitar - yes I've actually done that and yes she dumped her girlfriend but then went back to her a week later. Don't know if it's a phase of some kind (or "ennui" as my friend keeps calling it) but I need to figure out how to work some of that back in to my life.


Anyway (said with big sigh), I know it might be time to change the name of this blog. The transition from medications is pretty much over. But I kinda like the name and am gonna keep it - unless meondifferentmeds.blogspot.com is available.

Epilogue: Driving an RV is not the most glamorous thing - you feel pretty bad going up a hill at 35 miles an hour with a line of cars behind you knowing that the harder you step on the gas the more damage you're doing to the environment.