The Number 100: Booking Face to Alaska

Hey baby. Check it out! Brand new blog! Just drove it off the lot. bam. Hey. Will you adjust the mirror on your side a little. a little more. a little.. yea. there. thanks.

WICHITApostCRDI am leaving the motherland after a 3 year minute and want to take you with me. Don’t panic and start wondering where you left your passport and what bag you should take. You don’t have to do a thing or leave the comfortable embrace of the life you have worked so hard to build.

I’ll do all the walking and carrying and writing and snapping and tweeting and posting and sharing. I will gladly meet strangers and play the 20 Questions game with them, then I’ll tell you about it. For real. I know we’ll have a blast. I don’t sleep much, I talk and share and represent with an seasoned naivete that makes it way fun to hang – probably especially when you can control the dosage. Read when you want, stop when you’re done.  Better than extended release.oh.yea.

It’ll rock to be you. You can even help me figure out what to ask – I know I’m not the only curious person left on the island. And, by virtue of you being with me – I’ll be a whole lot safer. Winner.winner. To be clear: WE will get to go a whole bunch of places and find out a whole bunch of stuff and swap a whole bunch of fresh hugs with a whole bunch of people that we otherwise would never have known. And, bonus time, cha.ching! It’s going to be good stuff. I can’t stomach any more really bad news.  Seriously. Physically. No mas.

About 12 years ago I tried out an exit strategy that was founded completely in emotion, I wasn’t going TO anyplace, I was just for sure leaving this place. It’s Wichita, KS and suffers from an inferiority complex that is fed by this belief that everywhere, hell, anywhere, is better than this. (Not true, but let it marinate and it’ll be fine.) Overnight, my life flipped from being responsible for everyone all the time to being responsible for nobody, ever. I downsized and jumped ship.

It has made for a fabulously rich American Dream Gone Bad tale, though, and it has everything: Love, loss, drugs, fire, business, incarceration, birth, music, secrets, hope, train-hopping, secret agents, despair. It’s epic and it just about blew me all the way up. So, I left. It wasn’t clean. My bad.MONKEYhide

The Internet was just getting it’s groove on, then. Me and the net have had some years to build our comfortable and complicated relationship and it has generously provided me with a way to keep on buying Dr. Pepper where I find a wireless connection. I have done what I returned to do and now I can go explore/ The Internet is my wagon.

Columbus had people behind him, y’know? I propose the following: You hang with me and I’ll tell you everything I can find out. You won’t be hungry for details and I’ll get to drink it up and share.  Where I’m going in Alaska, there is no indoor plumbing and all the electricity to power the routers and laptops and whatnots comes from a generator powered by gasoline! And, there are bears.

THESE ARE THE FAQs

LEAVINGload 006WHAT ARE YOU DOING? I’m breaking it down to 100 things (I still have no idea how this can even work) that weigh up to 100 pounds and I would love to swap 100,000 hugs with people all over the world. I start in Wichita, KS and rest in Manley Hot Springs, AK for a bit. I have no pressing time concerns and I will not be hitch hiking in any conventional sense of the word. I will secure passage on trains and airplanes for long runs and rely on love for the short rides. Ultimately I want to go to NC, NY, London, Surrey, Austria and the American Virgin Islands, but that’s a longer story for a rainier day. It’s all about the hugs.

WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS? Why not, really. I’ve been curious about relationships and people and how we’re maneuvering this divide between real world and the internet. Our connectivity drives me. Arguably, it always has – as a kid I had a room full of neighborhood buddies listening to albums and I really can’t keep a physical home because it is filled with people I love in no time flat. I am compelled to include. Nobody else is doing this so I think we should. What IF this is the beginning of a revolution – shouldn’t we have front row seats? I volunteer to scout. Somebody should.

And stuff. OMG. We the people have got some jacked up and massively complicated relationships with stuff, here on the island. I know it comforts us, I grok the psychology. But, yea. This isn’t working out so well for anybody. I’ve lost count of how many people who have paid me to help them part with their stuff. It’s hard. Sometimes it sucks to be a grown-up. In the 3 short years I’ve been back in orbit, I have amassed a collection of unbelievably remarkable coolass stuff and it’s all gotta go. I have to be entirely responsible for all of me. I’m thinking like a ninja or an Indian Chief or a Buddist… walking softly, leaving no evidence. I have to walk the walk for real.

HUGShugeAnd love. Right before Christmas a person I loved on facebook died. She’d been my penpal friend and we’d talked to each other about everything for 5 years or so. She was young, it was unexpected. She was a phenomenal power house of a woman artist who was rebuilding an Airstream camper from scratch. The only person she had listed on the book of face, as family, was me. I had planned to see her this spring, she was a motivator in getting me to explore the west. I missed that chance. I must chop.chop. Life is way too short and delicate to wish we’d just had a minute over coffee. And, no – I am not dying any faster than anybody else. Don’t be getting all skidgy. I just want to see everybody while I’m still having fun. It’s hella harder to chase a flight at 50 than it was at 20.

HOW DO YOU DO THIS? I work like a freakin’ farmer, for starters. I’m probably the most clever and resourceful grandma you’ll meet. I can always cover my nut, but my expectations have been historically low – I’m hoping to raise the bar a bit by inviting you to come with me. I can sleep anywhere, I’d just rather not have to. I’m inviting anybody who wants to, to throw down and consider it like a prepay for a story or an image. Or, both. Or a podcast, or.or.or. I am not want for skills and I share liberally. Short of all else, I’m self reliant to a fault. I am trying to embrace the value in asking for things. Straight.up. I can sing on street corners or sell 800 glass eyeballs from the 1950s, but I think my strengths are better utilized if we just go hug everyone.

Come with.

xomoe