just call me kerouac nelson

i am going on a trip here in a couple days. on the road. or, on the road again, depending on whether you're talking to jack or willie.

finally finished john hart's the last child and the rate at which i read it should in no way reflect on its worth as a book. it's relatively solid, with multi-dimensional characters, realistic plot, good pacing, and with many surprises at the end. not rigged-up, deux ex machina type nonsense - but rather, revealed truths. so, it's a bit convenient to reveal a bunch of truths at the end, i suppose, but it worked b/c it was that type of book. the only complaint i had is that the two main boys were named jack and johnny. in case you aren't aware, jack is a nickname for john, and of course, so is johnny. so freaking distracting. why do editors let authors get away with mess like that? next up: water for elephants, specially gifted by mini-me. i have so far read one sentence. but...

i am going on a trip! which means reading! in case you didn't know!

also, going on a trip means i've been making mental lists for like the past three weeks. and writing them down on scraps of paper. and storing them on the phone and on the computer and on more scraps of paper. toothpaste. running shoes. phone charger. car food. chucks. crocs. book. cds. sunglasses. that sweater i like to have in the car and those socks i like to wear in the house. gah! i love to travel. i love to drive away in the car. i love to fly away on the plane. i love to paddle away in the boat. but way i get all nerve-wracked about packing, you'd think there weren't wal-marts where i am going. not that i could get that sweater at wal-mart.... note to self: pack that sweater. gah!