People watching.

Now, that is a sport. Lower the sunglasses, pop in the ear buds, then act as if you are minding your own business.

But who cares what you are doing?!

[M]ental decided that she needed to act upon a long overdue visit to a fam-ber out of state. Great, except that she planned the trip at the last minute with less timing on her part to relay her excitable news to the very fam-ber she was inviting herself to.

Granted, [M]ental, while a little cuckoo in the head, is not house gagged and bound. Independent, nomadic living is a familiar part of her lifestyle. Still, having a traveling partner suited her fantasy of connection and need for distraction, so I volunteered. (After a long, very long pause with a hard slap to the head...) Idiot!

Whose scheme was it to leave me with only four pills of headache medication for a 20-hours road trip...each way?!

1 bottle of whack-me on the road: [M]ental's requirement for constant blaring of radio news and music in order to drown out covert messages that may be transmitted to her mind from spying evil-doers trailing her movements.

2 bottles of whack-me on the road: [M]ental's forgetfulness to provide specific arrival day and time to fam-ber, whose own schedule necessitated us having to lounge around and amuse ourselves...when we are already cranky and tired with non-stop driving...for seven hours more before actually meeting up. (This is what I get for allowing [M]ental to take care of the details.)

3 bottles of whack-me on the road: Backaches and chills from sleeping in the car for the entire duration of the visit, since the fam-ber's lodging and accommodations were neither sanitary nor spacious. (My toes still curl up automatically when I think about having to walk on the sandy surface.)

4 bottles of whack-me on the road: [M]ental's temper flare-ups, shout-outs, and shut-ups to both fam-ber and me on issues ranging from my lackluster appetite to seeming favoritism of one over the other, and other points of personal dissatisfaction. (To be fair, it should be noted that any visits by [M]ental to fam-bers dictate that hosts not be immune to at least one such blow-outs during her stays. Worse,[M]ental thinks things will always be different, shelving those past experiences in lieu of happier, scripted expectations...which, undoubtedly, never happens.)

5 bottles of whack-me on the road: Convincing [M]ental not to extend her visit with fam-bers given language barriers that will exacerbate her frustration and disapproval ratings amongst all parties. (No matter what smiles are pasted on faces or kind words are spewed from lips, some personalities will never mesh in tune.)

6 bottles of whack-me on the road: Bringing back a puppy that has never ridden in a car before which, inevitably leads to a whole lot of stink - poo, pee, poo, vomit, pee, vomit, poo, vomit, and danger of $1000 fine for littering dirty towels and clothes on the roads.

7 bottles of whack-me on the road: [M]ental giving everyone the silent treatment.

Actually, forget the last one. My headache seems to be lifting a bit.