They're Coming to Take Me Away!

Last summer, Kirsten and I drove across the country. She needed to get her car home, I love driving across the country, and we'd done it once before, so we knew we were great driving buddies.

Our first overnight stop was planned for somewhere near Flagstaff, AZ, but the forecast there was calling for heavy snow. Yes, snow. In May. We thought about detouring south, but the rest of Arizona was scheduled for severe thunderstorms, so we chatted with a guide at the visitors' center and settled on a campsite right by a town called Williams that was close to Flagstaff, but at a lower elevation.

The campsite at Williams was lovely. We set up our tent right across from a huge lake, then spent some time exploring said lake and enjoying the scenery. I happened to notice that everyone else at the campsite had decided on an RV for their camping experience, but I figured our rain cover and cozy sleeping bags would protect us from any snow [almost] just as well.

Soon, the sun began to set, and since I'm not much for reading by flashlight, I snuggled into my sleeping bag and fell asleep.

A couple hours later, I began dreaming that the military was out to get me for some reason. I ran and I ran, but they were shooting at me from all directions. My dream startled me awake, and I was welcomed to reality with an enormous booming sound, just the noise I would imagine a legion of tanks might make as it makes its way through the woods.

Though I soon got over my fear that the army was out to get me personally, I was convinced that all the noise was indeed a covert military operation through the woods of Williams, Arizona. I just knew that there was a tank brigade making its way through our campground. But then I panicked all over again. The tanks may not have had specific orders to hunt me down and kill me, but Kirsten and I were the only ones at the campground who were not in an RV; there was no way the tanks would see our dinky little tent, and we were sure to be crushed by their covert advance!

Soon, as a few minutes passed and I remained 3-dimensional, I calmed down and decided that I was just being silly. There was no secret military mission through the woods of Williams, Arizona. The noise had not stopped, though, and there had to be some explanation for the cacophony. Instead of a military maneuver, I then decided that the noise was caused by a number of trucks and helicopters swarming the campground. Of course, that explanation needed an explanation, so I decided that there must be a serial rapist-killer on the loose (perhaps one who had just escaped from custody). Again, I panicked. Kirsten and I were two little girls in a tent whose walls could easily be breached with a simple steak knife. And of course, no one would hear our screams because they were all holed up in their big RVs!

Eventually, my fatigue took over and I was able to fall asleep. Thankfully, I woke in the morning to find our tent un-slashed, uncrushed, and Kirsten and me as chaste and pure as the night before. Upon leaving the campground, Kirsten pointed out a set of train tracks that couldn't have been more than a couple hundred yards from where we had slept. Turns out there had never been any secret military operation, nor a frantic search mission, only a routine railroad run. Funny, I would have never guessed trains could be that loud.

When You Wish Upon a Star

When I was younger, I was obsessed with the Animorphs series. When I say obsessed, I mean Seriously. For those of you who have never had the good fortune of encountering the Animorphs story, let me give you a brief overview. There are a group of friends who are visited by an alien and given the power to acquire the DNA of any animal they touch so that they can later morph into that animal. While in the animal state, half of their brain power can be controlled by their own human minds, and the other half is controlled by the mind of the animal. So not only do they get to have the body and abilities of their animal, but they get to experience how that animal thinks, as well. While in this state, they communicate with each other telepathically. Of course, all of these powers are ultimately to serve the greater good of stopping some alien race who implant themselves in human brains from taking over Earth, but I never actually cared that much about that particular plot twist.

Now, to give you an idea of my obsession, let me just say that it is all I wished for. Ever. If an eyelash fell out and I put it on the back of my hand to blow it off, I wished to be an Animorph. If I won the greater piece of a wishbone, I wished to be an Animorph. If I noticed the first star in the sky, I wished to be an Animorph. Even now, I hesitate to admit to these wishes, not because they are embarrassing, but because writing them here most definitely qualifies as telling someone about them, thus rendering these wishes unfulfillable.

While the idea of becoming an Animorph has always been a dream for me, it has also haunted me. Tonight, I was put in charge of caring for my poor, terrified dog during a routine summer thunderstorm. I had to use the bathroom and, with everyone else either asleep or out of the house, I couldn't just leave my dog in the hallway to shiver alone. In fact, I didn't even have to coax her into the bathroom; she just ran right in. But of course, I then felt strange dropping my pants and taking a seat in front of my dog. After all, what if she wasn't actually my dog, but instead were one of my friends simply morphed into my dog? How embarrassing would that be?

I managed to accomplish my bathroom tasks, but not without overcoming a fair share of stagefright. And this is not a rare occurrence for me. Anytime an animal of any sort is in the bathroom with me, or in my room while I am changing, or present while I am picking my nose or something of the sort, I feel awkward and worry that said animal is actually a friend in morphed-form watching me in my personal moment.

I know it's silly, but I just can't get over it. So the next time I'm around friends, perhaps I'll invite one or two into the bathroom with me. At least then, I'm not worrying the whole time about whether or not they're my friends in morphed-form, since they'll be friends in just-plain-normal form. Or maybe I'll just have to get more comfortable with my embarrassing habits. And anyway, if I have a friend who decides that they should morph into my dog and follow me into the bathroom, I guess they kind of deserve whatever show they may get.