The Great Migration: Day 1: Benson

Current Location: Benson, Arizona
Mood: Slightly Soggy
Listening To: My father watching the Olympics on the hotel TV.
Music in my Head: Stevie Ray Vaughan - "The Sky is Crying"
Been Reading: Elizabeth Haydon - "Prophecy"; Frank Miller - "The Art of Sin City"
Been Watching: "Kamen Rider Den-O"

Click "read more" for the full story, as per the always.

While you read this in your journeys through cyberspace, know that I am making pilgrimage of another kind. Yes, gentle readers, the great migration to the Great White Northland has begun.

My father flew in late last night in order to assist me with this endeavor. This morning, bright and early, he arrived at my apartment with a rented truck and help in the form of my dear uncle, my uncle's best friend (a fellow comic book aficionado, and general swell guy) and (more awkwardly) my ex-boyfriend. The truck was loaded in two hours' time, and though I had been up 'til 3am packing, the night before, I was continuing to stick things in boxes until the last moments. And, yes, the very last thing to be packed was my beloved computer. ^__~

We lunched, napped, and supped at the home of my Opa and Oma--my beloved maternal grandparents--and fond farewells were said with all the Tucsonan family members, and my dear roommate of the past year, Tanya, who sweetly sent me off with action figures of Alfred Pennyworth and Robin, a la "Batman: The Animated Series". My goodbyes to my posse were said the night before, over yakisoba and gelato.

Upon the stroke of seven, my father and I departed, with la Chupacabra (my ghetto Batmobile) in tow behind the truck, to make a short jump to Benson--some distance to the east.

The journey's beginning was marked auspiciously by the weather. Ah, it was a great, grinning evil grandmother of a storm that hit us in a torrential downpour whose staccato rhythm overwhelmed all other sound. A large and full golden moon came to be clutched in fists of low clouds, casting a tangled halo through the ripped-out swash of slated cobalt in the charcoal sky. Below, the world melted into a inky, velvet blackness that was absolutely...utter. The wind whipped cobweb-colored ghosts of roiling, dancing water before the truck's headlights, and aside from wicked forks of blinding violet lightning, all visibility was streaked away to pure abstraction--lines of colored light, and the discordant howling of the wind through the death-black mountains.

Fell Zeus was in a boastful mood.

Here's to hoping my shoes dry by morning. Y'all shall be updated as is in my power.

~JoJo on the go-go