My bus is a sitcom

And so it continues, the saga that is my 'house'
so it finally got into its appointment at the shop to possibly, probably, knock-on-wood-hopefully repair the gas tank by whatever means appropriate...this was tuesday morning...
and after all this time of 'oh so intentionally' NOT driving the bus, the shop informs me that i MUST empty the holding tank before they can work on it.
one side of my brain is thinking, damn waste of time i've spent not emptying it in order to preserve what has been newly cleaned and fixed...
the other side of me is thinking, fuck i'm sorry guys, that IS shitty...so to speak...oy!
So Tuesday night, very luckily aided oh so kindly by my grand pal Snapper (no, names have NOT been changed to protect the innocent...and not that that would apply anyhow;)
...we picked up the bus on SE Foster and headed along 82nd, along 84 East, and then merged onto the sea of brake lights that was clearly I-5...holy shitballs batman! it was pre-holiday, post-rush hour ridiculous traffic. my favorite. said the girl who doesn't even drive a normal sized vehicle on side streets.

were it not for snapper as co-pilot, my ridiculously dramatic sighs and wheel gripping wouldn't have been nearly as entertaining...

Luckily i had checked for a closer location to empty my home (as previously i have been driving to WA exit 11 just north of vancouver...go free rest area!) so we pulled off I-5 waaaaay sooner than usual at the jantzen beach exit after many passenger assisted lane changes (at approximately 3 miles an hour) thinking, sweeeet, no more of that interstate bullshit, we'll be there in a heartbeat and back into town in no time.

So finding the Rv park only took turning around once or twice and stopping at one convenience mart for directions. not bad ;)

once there, go figure, office closed. huh, no marking of dump site on the map of this lovely large trailer park. curious. can't be so hard to find....she said naively...

after touring the park quite inconspicuously and meticulously, seeing lots of double wides with christmas lights, and finding each unmarked dead end...nada...nothing. so much for this being the closer, easier, less time consuming option i'm thinking, to myself and out loud.

Back toward the entrance (which was also not easy to find as the trailer park is set up akin to Walmart or Ikea where you have to pass everything to quite inefficiently get from point A to point B, basically the antithesis to how the crow flies), we decide to consult with other RV owners as they must surely know where this secret dump station exists.

Snapper bravely knocks on a few RV doors, but alas, none are home to answer questions for weary 'travellers!'

We decided to scavenge (or actually re-scavenge, as i have already done this upon our entrance) each site for personalized dumping...so to speak. Snapper, saving the day once again, spots an RV's dump tube set up and we investigate the scene, reverse the whale and pull into a site (incognito style) and prepare to dump!

So the sites were hidden near a pole in most, but not all sites, partially buried beneath beauty bark (not a bad idea really); i hook it all up, pull the plug, and that lovely WHOOOOSHH sound fills my ears as the waft of ...well, you know...overcomes the smell of beauty bark if only for a moment...

SUCCESS!!!!!!

it was additionally lovely to know that the entire black/gray water tank/pipes/system had not been damaged (atleast to any extent apparent to m e at this time) during the deeeep freeeze that solidified anything and everything in my bus that had any inkling toward water content.

i swear a big grin crossed my face at this time that felt quite sheepish ;)

next, as is customary, i look for a hose with which to clean everything out and off with...no hose in sight, but there is a small spicket just nearby.
I begin to slowly turn it on...nothing...i wait. i can hear it trying. i slowly turn it up and a small trickle begins to crawl from the mouth of the ground level spicket, i turn it up more, more, still a trickle, growing maybe to a steady stream of a few ounces per minute...i crank it more, more, still hoping....
Then i bend down to look and see if anything is blocking it...no just kidding, I didn't do that; that would just be downright cartoonish...
but eventually the water did break through whatever blockage was occurring and explosively covered my shoes and pants with lovely agua...which i then used to clean out the piping, at this point completely carefree about the fact that my feet were wet and my fingers numb. i mean at this stage, it was all comedy, no holds barred!!!

so, with our mission complete, we headed out of the park, a new unintentionally FREE dump site discovered (probably only after 5pm when the office is closed and the park is dark), though at this point it felt like we earned it!

so back we drove, lightning quick it seemed at 45 mph in non-crazy traffic; reparked the bus at Mac's Radiator, and headed into town to the Slammer, to fulfill our Tuesday evening tradition at long last...better late than never.

Besides, at this point, i think i owed Snapper a drink, and needed one myself!
Cheers to whalin' adventures and another step in what is hopefully the right direction ;)

Step Next

carbeurator nirvana has been reached (whether i can spell it or not).
now i need a rust-free gas tank
do you think santa's elves could figure that one out for a lil' non-christian gal?
that's all i want for christmas
...besides, i'm SO over that whole two front teeth bit ;)

On bus conversation

Funny the reactions people have to me living in a motorbus.

*Non-plussed, cuz hell, it's just where you live
*Shocked...because who'd want to live in a bus?
*Concerned, seeing as how i still have a job, i must be needing to save more to feed my secret cocaine addiction
*Excited, because they too have contemplated such things
*Increasingly friendly...because i too am apparently homeless and now belong to a bit of a club

And the most common as of late: you can always crash at my place ;)

Funny how some people avoid my eyes when i'm sitting on the edge of the stoop of the bus, as if to acknowledge me would somehow insinuate they approve, or perhaps i just make them nervous.

And funny how all the different reactions i've received don't necessarily match my prediction for those whose mouths they eminate from

And it never gets old, i am still quite entertained to tell people i live in a 1975 Travco..."a what?"
oh yeah baby ;)

Revised view on cold weather

After one week with decreasing temps, i revise (momentarily) my viewpoint.

When i can't make tea because my water jug is thoroughly solidly frozen...which makes pouring water into the pot rather tricky...

When there is no amount of layers or time in my sleeping bag that erases the aching and burning in my fingers and feet...

When my poor claustrophobic kitty kat is sleeping INSIDE of my sleeping bag with me at night (classically taking up waaaayyy more space than should be legal)....

When my 'kitchen' faucet has an icicle hanging from it though the pipes have been long frozen...

And when i'm nervous to even use my imagination regarding my 'evacuation system'...

Then, now....i'm using mental imagery and placing myself squarely beach side, baking in sun too hot for comfort, feeling my skin almost burning, and knowing that one day an ice cold margarita will once again sound enticing.

cheers to hot toddies and getting that whale moving! come on carbeurator king, bless me with some sweet loving~

PS my heart, empathy, and any spare gloves go out to anyone sleeping outdoors this night and many others to follow

To the nth degree

If this is December, bring it
A healthy dose of sunshine paired with frosty temps is magic for p-town winter weather!
Yesterday morning was the dawn of the day after the full moon and it was brilliant riding across the Hawthorne bridge amidst the pink sunrise bouncing off all the glass paned buildings lining the west side of the river...
And on this crisp frigidly cold morning, as my eyes were drawn towards the moon and the gorgeous colors (and occasionally to the bridge to be sure I wasn't about to plow into anyone), something caught my eye...so common, yet so out of place . There was a runner crossing the bridge wearing only shorts and a Tshirt. Her legs and arms were a ridiculous shade of red that insinuated far more than increased heartrate. And I thought to myself, my god, that girl is insane!
...this from the girl who lives in a whale bus.

Ode to Fanfarlo!

Some people reward themselves with new clothes or extra dessert, I spoil myself by turning on the bus' radio for few awesome songs; projected through two ceiling speakers and with a huge subwoofer to boot, yet powered by my oh so precious battery...just one more, just one more listen to the day's favorite new tune! Perhaps it's good I live alone, as escape from monotonous overplayed songs can prove difficult in living structures lacking a second room.

nature's got sum phat beets

Rain rain rain on the rooftop! Damn what a nice sound, dramatized by its proximity to my eardrums and the lack of double paned glass and ambient appliance hum that might dampen (heehee) its pounding. Add in the shakety shake shake from each wind gust and if I closed my eyes and imagined I could smell deepfried anythang I could damn near pretend I was ridin out katrina...suppose at least I got me a big ole whale. "Weather" hurricane, tsunami, or ptown liquid onslaught...think I'd rather play Jonah than Noah, though it gets kinda dark in here...and there's something to be said for observing sloths, giraffes, and crazy two-leggeds play nice on a wee ship. Sounds like the makings for a new reality show; Survivor: a whole new approach

Thoughts of waking to new surroundings

New possibilities. New space and a new address. Maybe. Would be big step, but one I think I'm ready to take, a journey this small pod if one whale can swim.
Three and a half years I've lived on Davis street, longer than nearly anywhere and now I contemplate leaving via one hefty beast.
And a beast that is currently showing it's age, funny how they stop making certain types of carbeurators 34 years after the conception of the vehicle they are meant for..funny in that "I'll laugh about it someday" kind of a way.
And I will too, probably someday will be tomorrow...and probably the day after that as well.
But tonight is warm and windy. No cold toes this lovely evening, only bus shakin and the sound of tree branches fighting with the wind over which direction they should point. And sleepy eyes that I will readily claim...and indulge. Cheers to ridiculous dreams and solid sleeps!

my fingers are cold

From inside my sleepin bag tucked tidily into the whale bus listening to the train and beth orton. Tula cuddled on my legs atop my quilt made by jakes mom. With it's bright colors visible even in my dark cave I call home. It's cold in here and the condensation on my windows hide the stars that would be seen if not for my curtains, stars that only insinuate how much the temp will drop tonight without the clouds to gently cuddle a touch of extra warmth down near the surface where crazy girls and kitties bed down in whale buses.
What a beautiful day. From it's starry AM conception and violently lit sunrise to temper tantrum rain pours, all best experienced and absorbed from outside of windows and inside of gortex.
What am I doing???
What the hell am I doing living in a broken down motorhome? When I can easily afford warmth and protection and comfort and ease? In a life that's hard enough, leave it to me to go and make it harder. Based on ideals, possibility, and adventure... This ride has become more a social experiment, both on those around me (unwittingly though it is) and myself (knowingly even). And a good one so far. Certainly it has it's moments, but those moments exist on both sides of the coin, visible on both ends of the spectrum, with plenty to see in between. To bed I already am, and to sleep I must. May interesting dreams find me this chilly kitty cuddled evening.

The morning after...

take 3
exit 11 WA rest area i love you and your free gray water dump station equipped with rinse off hose and trash can
in the dark, you ask no questions of why a small lass is using her wednesday night free time to cross the state line in a big ole whale.
no snears or raised eyebrows as i scuttle around, attaching hoses and turning certain knobs, hearing that o so satisfying wooosh

Two weeks

Two weeks.
Two weeks of showering at work and sleepin nearer to pavement on a consistent basis than i have in a while.
Two weeks of coming home to the same old corner and seeing the lights on in what used to be my apartment...and then unlocking my bus and stepping into my cozy lil' studio on wheels.
Two weeks of trying to pee (and such) in everybody else's digs.
Two weeks of jammin to Holly Smith on the way to dump the 'goods' each wednesday and writing atop the roof my mini-home.
Two weeks of conserving more water and energy than ever!
Two weeks of hitting a steep learning curve at mock speed and meeting Mr. Jumper Cables face to face.
Two weeks of having plenty enough space for me a kitty and knowing we could do with less.
Two weeks of good sleeping weather and loud rain on the roof and hearing crickets.
Two weeks of meeting passers by who stop to look and ask about the Travco, because they themselves have been looking or used to own one and want to share their nonstalgia with someone new to the circle.
Two weeks of couchsurfers, who I believe need a new delineation...
Two weeks of playin Jonah in the Whale.
And getting my very first "get the fuck out or we'll tow yer ass in 72 hours" sticker, which i almost feel is some sort of initiation or rite of passage.
So, my address won't be changing, but my locale may, for now ;)
So i'm livin la vida loca en la baena
Cheers to two more weeks