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Boulevard (technically highway) of Broken Dreams

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Now that we are in St. Louis, we might as well do some sightseeing. First up: The 630 foot Gateway Arch, the tallest monument in the United States. A real National treasure.

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Alright, kids…gather round the window. Yup, that’s how we roll; take an hour-long detour to visit Santa Claus, IN for a second time; yet refuse to walk the 2 blocks to visit an actual National Treasure for a second time. You gotta a problem with that? Yeah, I didn’t think so. Full disclosure: A)it is raining a bit outside and I certainly don’t want to mess up my hair and  b)why make the effort and fight the crowds when you have a view like this from the window, and c)we really have been here before…all up in that arch and although it was pretty cool, it was also crazy claustrophobic and I don’t think my already frayed nerves can take it today…plus, we have more exciting things to do. (yeah right).

Think of all the places you dreamed about traveling to when you were a child. Probably Hawaii and Paris. Maybe Fiji and Australia?

How ’bout Lincoln, Nebraska and  Laramie,Wyoming? Well, I for one did not even know those two shit holes existed, and definitely did not ever imagine myself in one…much less 2 of those places…much less 2 in the same 48 hours. But, I am a lucky girl;  guess what? We’ll be spending the next two nights in Lincoln, Nebraska and Laramie, Wyoming. What the fuck is up with that?? Where did things in this so-called life go so far off track? Oh well, at least there is no professional baseball team in either of these places. I’m thanking God for the little things these days.

As you may have guessed, there ain’t a lot to see in Lincoln, Nebraska in July (aside from a pretty kick ass Crossfit gym, which I know most of you couldn’t care less about, so for now will indulge you in non-Crossfit rhetoric).

We did find a brewery and I had some pretty delish strawberry beer, again, the little things

We did find a brewery and I had some pretty delish strawberry beer. Again, the little things.

Oh, and even though I promised not to talk about Crossfit; after I went to said Crossfit gym in the AM, look at this I saw walking through downtown Lincoln:

It's a lot to take in, look carefully...it is a blind woman, walking down a semi-crowded downtown street,by herself, with one of those blind people walking sticks, talking on her cell phone.

It’s a lot to take in, look carefully…it is a blind woman, walking down a semi-crowded downtown street,by herself, with one of those blind people walking sticks, talking on her cell phone.

I know I don’t know a lot about being blind, but I feel like she should have had some sort of chaperone, or if she was hell-bent on being Miss Independent (no doubt motivated by the catchy tune by Kelly Clarkson), she should take her independence more seriously and at least be concentrating on her surroundings and not talking on her phone discussing last night’s episode of America’s Got Talent (I made up that part, I wasn’t close enough to hear the convo, but my money is on AGT recap).  But again, what do I know? I will probably be driving a car with rap music blasting down I-40 when my vision starts to go…good point, my vision is already sketchy, and I already do drive down I-40 (among other places) with rap music blasting. And also, in looking back at this picture, why was I trying to be so discreet when I took it. I was kind of ducked behind a car…not like she could see me. Lesson learned, when taking pictures of blind people, get all up in their grill.

Of course we can’t go to a college town and not check out their sports crap. So, off we go to see The Nebraska football stadium; and some museum with a lot of big and shiny trophies chronicling the awesomeness of the Nebraska football team (whose awesomeness was news to me). I however was too busy to fully appreciate all the football bling, because I was mesmerized by the weight room and work outs going on in there. And really, looking back, had I been a grown man staring at college girls the way I was checking out the football players, I would have probably been arrested. Yikes. In my defense (why do I feel like I am on trial here? Innocent til proven guilty. Stop the witch hunt already.) I was not staring at them in a creepy, checking them out kinda way, I am looking enamoredly at all the sweet work out  equipment and trying to pick up some new moves.  I know, get a life.

Go Huskers?!!

Go Huskers?!! (PS, What a stupid team name!!)

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Am I the only one that thinks this is awesome?

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Awkward gawking done, it is time to get back on the road…before the cops are called.

As luck (jury is out on whether it is good luck or bad luck) would have it, my brother had just been out in Nebraska on a prairie dog hunt (yes, apparently there is some sort of “sport” in that…and you guys thought I was insane; who goes to Nebraska to hunt rodents?) Anyway, he suggested that we stop through for a little tour of his peeps’ ammunition factory. You know I love a good factory tour, right? I do prefer food or liquor, but I should probably broaden my horizons into firearms also. I will be such a fountain of knowledge (well, more of one than I already am). So we head over to Grand Island, Nebraska (another obvious example of “you can name a town whatever the fuck you want with out needing credentials to prove what your town name is promoting.” I would like to think that a place billed as “Grand Island” would actually be “Grand”… or, jesus, at the very least, be a friggin Island.  I picture yachts and cigarettes and bronzed bodies everywhere, maybe I am still caught up in my childhood dreams of jet setting to fab places, like Paris and Cannes; not cruising through the Midwest USA on I-80.  As you have probably figured out. Grand Island did not deliver in the Grandness. There is a Walmart and a Jimmy Johns and that is the extent of the finery that Grand Island has to offer. Oh, a Starbucks too). Off to the Hornady bullet maker place thingy. Can you tell, I do not know anything about ammo or hunting? Our tour guide throws out a lot of verbiage that is over my head, but I can take away from witnessing what is going down inside this factory and the way they are pumping out ammo, I would say that there are lots militia men and Rambo-in-training types out there. And for the record Hornady is all Made in the USA and a family business, so if you are looking to kill some innocent animals, I hope you are using Hornady bullets.

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Dead Animals Everywhere!! Yay!!!

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I think we have officially done everything that Nebraska has to offer, so now we settle in for the jaunt over to Wyoming. Laramie to be exact. That sounds glamorous, doesn’t it?

Remember how I thought we might be able to escape the heat by heading to Wyoming? Yeah...no.

Remember how I thought we might be able to escape the heat by heading to Wyoming? Yeah…no.

You know things are dicey when you are photo shooting at a rest stop.

You know things are dicey when you are photo shooting at a rest stop.

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