How could Little Red Riding Hood’s mother let her walk in the woods ALONE?

So I’m back out in beautiful East Berne now, staying with my friends Tim and Susan. I gave them a little break from me while I was in Las Vegas for two weeks, and the two weeks before that I stayed at my brother and sister-in-law’s house over in Rensselaer County. God bless all of them for putting me up since I arrived here back on May 29. Man, that’s a long time to be mooching off friends and family, don’t you think?

The other night Susan and Courtney were busting on me because my key ring looks like a jail warden’s. It’s kind of funny that a homeless person would have four house keys, but I do—one to Lori’s, one to Tim and Susan’s, one to my brother’s, and one to Mike’s. Actually, I had three more—two I couldn’t identify (probably to the houses I had in Wyoming and Utah) and one to our old house on Homestead Ave. that we sold in 2003. The girls made me throw them out; they said hoarding keys is a sign of mental illness. Oh, the abuse I take.

Speaking of, the first thing Tim said to me yesterday morning was, “Lin, do you remember the Moonies from the 70s and how people were brainwashed?”

Well, evidently Tim thought I was a victim of mind control and in need of de-programming because the night before I went out for a two-mile walk as soon as I got home, I didn’t have a beer or ice cream all night, and then went to bed early. “What happened to our Linda?” he demanded.

I can’t believe I walked by myself; I told you before the country scares the crap out of me and ever since I posted that link on Tuesday about serial killer Robert Garrow, I’m creeped out by the thought of a possible Garrow v.2. But I don’t want to lose the momentum from the daily walks Mike and I took in Las Vegas (Henderson, actually) and so I braved the country roads all alone since I couldn’t coax Susan to come with me. I almost turned back two minutes into my walk because there were a shit load of birds perched on a wire and more flying around, but I thought she’d make fun of me and I almost couldn’t blame her. Almost. I hate birds.

Anyway, I took this picture with my iPhone. You can kind of see the moon. It looked cool.

So yes, I was walking in the country by myself with birds and God knows what other kinds of animals hiding the bushes and potential ax murderers and it was even starting to get dark. I’m a brave, brave girl.

It's weird how something perfectly enjoyable to one person is a nightmare to another. Remember that hike in the woods last weekend? My friends thought it was the greatest thing, but I kept thinking, Every step I take is a step closer to getting out of these friggin' woods. My mother just went whitewater rafting--another thing you couldn't pay me to do. Same with sailing, sushi, and Disneyland--nightmare, nightmare, nightmare.

How about you? What is it that a other people find enjoyable, but hell no, not you?