It's been one of those days. And I'm not talking about the kind that everyone nods and smiles about because they've all experienced something similar. My current status: sitting in a motel room, a little over halfway between Albuquerque and Los Angeles. My current goal: arriving in Los Angeles. Alive.

I've had virtually no time to plan for this move. Getting into grad school, while very exciting, left me very little time to prepare myself. So I did all I could, planned all I could, and did my best to execute all of said plan. For the most part, I considered it wildly successful.

Some, however, did not. But I suppose the patriarch of my familial unit could pack and be ready for a big trip, finish up working and tie up all loose ends and paperwork, and also find a place to live and a way to pay for an education in a manner far superior to how I did it. I know this because that's what he told me ALL MORNING LONG.

Long story short, I'm in the midst of the move, but am pretty much devoid of a great deal of the things I had intended to bring along. Oh sure I have most of the STUFF. But the only thing I have in which (or on which) to place or display any of my stuff is the boxes in which they're currently packed. Trendy.

Despite my incredible collapsable furniture, I was unable to take any of it with me, on account of there just wasn't any space in either of the cars to fit it all. The icing on the cake: I was the only one unsurprised by how much stuff I had. Because, when you live on your own and aim for self-suffiency, that's what happens. It's not crap, it's things you need.

But I digress. I'm starting fresh, sort of, and haven't much choice except to deal with it. There's only so much bartering and arguing you can do with people who still try to order your meals for you.

Anyway, starting fresh. Within the confines of the car, I was graced with the presence of my younger brother. My relationship with any of my brothers, at any given time, varies. All was going well, and then at some point after dinner, we sorta got into it over a he-said/she-said sort of deal. And lo and behold, I finally got up the nerve to tell my brother just how homophobic he's been in the past. Surprisingly, he was shocked, and even went so far as to say that, once I pointed this out, he started to think more about his past behavior. Said he'd never looked at things through my eyes before. Might some progress be made in the future? Hopefully, yeah.

Tomorrow: making the rest of the drive to the City of Angels. Fingers crossed it goes well and without all the incidents that graced me today.

And I'll have my salad, like I ordered, thank you. No soup for me.