Thank you for your patience with the long time lag between posts over the past couple of weeks. After weeks of packing, throwing things out, donations, shredding followed by two days of 1500 miles driving with Tooki, I finally made it to Vegas. From vast farmlands to winding mountain roads, to vast canyons and deserts... This was definitely a unique trip for me. Mind you, I've done this sort of cross-country trip before when I was a counselor on a teen tour where we caravanned four Ryder trucks from Long Island, NY to Denver, CO but this was the first time I did such a long drive solo. (Tooki doesn't count... His legs were too short to reach the pedals, and he seemed to be more intrigued by the changing landscape of our wonderful country than helping out with the drive.)

I find driving to be very relaxing, that is when I'm not stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic with a bunch of knuckle-heads around me. At times, I was just as intrigued as Tooki was by how quickly the landscape changed. The drive also proved to be a good opportunity for introspection - particularly with regards to my misophonia. Years ago, I mused at the idea of what it would be like to live in a mountain cabin, away from city stresses and technology headaches. (I was doing a lot of I/T work at the time and found the days when I went hiking out of cell range very meditative.) Although seeing some of the beautiful mansions that looked like chalets nestled in the mountains was very appealing, the portions of the drive where I saw ranch houses in the middle of hundreds of isolated acres a little daunting. Yes, once could certainly have total control of his/her environment (as much as mother nature would allow), particularly where it related to misophonia triggers, but there was something about those isolated farm houses on the prairies and exit signs in the desert that said "No services" or "Last gas for 106 miles) that seemed a little unappealing. It must give new meaning to a "close-knit" community, despite how far away distance-wise neighbors are from one another.

I'll admit that rounding the bend of the last mountain pass to see the Las Vegas skyline along the horizon was very much a relief. It's a lot of driving to do in just two days (nine hours one day, nearly twelve the second.) Now it's just a matter of waiting for the movers to come with my belongings so I can finally get settled into my new apartment. 

Little by little I do errands each day to not only familiarize myself with the area, but also to check one more item off of my "To do" list. Today it was to get my Nevada drivers license and tags so I can truly be considered a "local," with all the discounts and perks that status entails. Of course, the DMV is just as bad as sitting in the airport when it comes to misophonia triggers. Anxious (or bored) drivers bouncing their legs and feet, cracking gum, clicking pens... All while waiting hours on end for their number to be called.  I initially sat down on a chair at

the end of a back row thinking I found a place with little exposure to triggers. Unfortunately, a few minutes after sitting down, a guy stands next to me jingling the change in his pocket - right by my ear! (I hate it when guys do that, especially speakers giving a presentation.) So, I picked myself up and moved to the far end of the long waiting room, where no one seemed to be sitting. It seemed to be perfect. Only a guy sitting at the counter in front of me clicking a pen, which wasn't so bad when I put in my earplugs and kept looking down at my cell phone. Then about 15-20 minutes later, a guy walks in front of me crinkling a bag of potato chips. I knew as soon as he opened the bag and started crunching away, I was in trouble; so I picked myself up again and started walking towards the other side of the room. It was just as well, since by that point there were only two numbers in front of me. By the time I got halfway down the room, my number was called - to a counter at the other end of the room where I was heading. So, after a bit of paperwork, I got in line to have my picture taken for my license. Of course, the woman in front of me was cracking gum, twirling her hair, and kicking her feet - all triggers for me. At least that line moved fairly quickly and within a couple of minutes, I was out of there!

So, now I'm officially a Nevadan (with the first "a" pronounced like "dad") and off to do a few more errands. Once I get more settled into my place and a regular routine, I'll start again along my new journey towards misophonia relief.  Who knows what resources I might find in Vegas that were unavailable to me in Iowa

As much as I thought I budgeted my moving prep time well, here I am pulling an all-nighter to have everything packed for when the movers come in the morning. I think what slowed me down most is the amount of time I've spent carefully packing my artwork and fragile items. (Let's just say I had a bad experience last time when the movers did all the packing.)

For the most part, Tooki (my cockatiel) has been really good. Given how chaotic my apartment is right now, that's quite a miracle. Unfortunately, tonight he's been quite whiney and really triggering my misophonia big time. I think he's bothered by the sound of crinkling paper. (Is it possible for an animal to have misophonia?)

Although it'd be easy to put in my earplugs to block out his whining, I turn the situation into something positive by taking a break from packing now and then to cuddle with him. I think the break is good for both of us. Not only does it give me a breather to figure out my next item to tackle, I can tell he is comforted by it too. No sooner do I take him out of the cage and sit down with him on my chest, within a minute or two he's already closing his eyes, beak tucked into his back feathers, and standing on one leg - his normal relaxed sleeping position. The only problem is that I don't want to wake him up, yet I have to keep packing.

(Sigh) At least this is the last big crunch. As soon as the movers are gone tomorrow, I'm going to take a LONG nap (if not go to bed early altogether) so I can hit the road early on Tuesday. Google shows a couple of construction areas on the way to Vegas, so I'd like to leave early enough that I can get to the hotel in Denver not too late and get a good night's rest before the last leg of the journey.

To be continued...

I had a bit of a restless night last night. Now that I donated my bed's mattress to charity (even though it was barely seven years old, I decided to get rid of as much as I could before the move and treat myself to a new memory foam mattress when I get to Vegas), I've been sleeping on the sleeper sofa in my living room. It rained hard early in the morning and the "plinks" of the raindrops on the metal fireplace woke me up. I probably should've put my earplugs in, but I didn't feel like getting up and waking up my bird. Oh well.

In general, my bird's been pretty good about the preparations for the move over the past week. Every now and then, he'll have a whiny moment that really triggers me but for the most part, he's been mostly quiet while I run around the apartment packing boxes. I do take breaks here and there when I can take him out and let him nuzzle on my shoulder, but then he gets so comfortable that he tucks his head into his back and falls asleep - making it hard for me to get up and continue packing. (He's so cute when he does that, I don't want to wake him up!)

This morning, the maintenance men in my apartment complex came by to help take down some of the items they helped me hang high up by my cathedral ceiling. It's amazing how fast they took everything down. It was such a godsend! Granted, one of them whistled (one of my triggers), but he said he was just trying to say "hi" to my bird. There's so much to pack, it seems like every time I pack/shred/ recycle boxes, more things pop up. I'm hoping to wrap things up soon (pun intended). The movers are coming on Monday, so I'd like to be finished packing Sunday afternoon so I can rest well before the chaos.

It also hit me that right at this moment one week from now - I should be arriving in Vegas. I can't believe the transition is almost here! I'm actually dividing up the 20+ hour drive into two days, staying at a hotel in Denver (a nearly perfect halfway point), so I can take my time getting out there. What I find interesting is how difficult it has been to not only find a hotel in Denver that will allow birds, but in Vegas as well. So many places say they allow pets, but when I asked if that includes a bird, about 75% of those hotels say they only allow dogs, not cats/birds/lizards/etc... Some said that they only allow service animals I knew I should've tried to register my bird to be an "emotional support animal," like the flight attendants in Portland suggested to me. It's interesting to hear some of the other justifications too... One person said that they have balconies with doors that open to the outside. (Do they honestly think I'd take him out with the door open?) Another said it was a health issue concern. (I think he's cleaner than most cats/dogs.) Luckily, the arrangements have been made for both cities and I can turn my attention back to packing.