Stranded in Louisiana

        Everyone was stressed – except for me. Money troubles, whining children, and edgy dogs filled the unschool bus, but we made it through. Although we were stranded in Louisiana until Jeff was paid for the work he did in New Orleans, I thoroughly enjoyed our stay.

        We parked in a lot in Morgan City for the night. The next day we were planning on some sightseeing, but unfortunately we were awoken at 7:00am by a Rouses employee to tell us we had to leave (although the police the night prior had told us it was a public lot where it would be safe for us to stay). We didn't leave. Fifteen minutes later, the police arrived to tell us that we were officially being kicked out. Needless to say, we no longer felt like staying in their town. What happened to good ol' Southern hospitality?

        So, the first town to explore was Rayne – frog capital of the world. The brochure sure looked pretty, but where did all the frogs go? A sign read that many of the frogs were given to restaurants and universities. Great. A serving of frogs legs and animal testing for the vegans. From the murals decorating the buildings, we concluded that they also used to race frogs in the town. When we asked a random passerby where all the action was in Rayne, he was honest and told us to head to Crowley. Unfortunately, Kelly didn't get him on camera, but he was quite the character. Apparently he was only in Rayne to deal with some legality concerning some, if not all, of his 39 kids? We were as lost as you were reading that last sentence.

        Anyways, we left for Crowley – America's rice capital. We stopped in the music store, where I was able to pick up an organized table of ukulele chords. One of the four brothers who own the store was kind enough to show us around the studio in the back as well with photos of all the famed musicians who had stopped in as well. Next we took a tour of City Hall, which housed an enormous amount of information about rice, Ford Motor Company (since Crowley had been the third largest car manufacturing city in Louisiana), the music industry in Crowley, and the city itself. Mambo and I had fun dancing along to the selection of blues, cajun, pop, and rock music from the mid-twentieth century.

        After that we headed to Jennings. We heard there were gators to pet in the welcome hall. They were cute. Bubba was about a foot long, and Hampton was probably half that size. It was pouring rain outside, but we checked out the bigger gators outside as well. We were getting worried about the payment we needed before heading to Austin. We were really running low on cash, but finally Jeff was able to convince Esther (the landlord) that yes, he really had fixed the toilet at the house in New Orleans, and the resident, Jim, had been doing everything in his power to make it look like it was leaking.

        We decided to have an Internet day at a Starbucks in Lake Charles while waiting for payment to be deposited into the Paypal account.. I've been reading My Big TOE by Tom Campbell online for free through Google books. It's captivating, but I can only read it sporadically, since I'd rather save every cent and not just download it. However, I highly recommend the book whichever way you choose to read it. Campbell is a NASA physicist who discusses a theory of everything that accounts for both our physical matter reality and the non-physical matter realities of outer body experiences, lucid dreaming, remote viewing, and other psychic occurrences. I consider it a must-read.

        After Esther finally came through, we headed to an RV park in Vinton for some much needed stress relief. The review of Nibblit's Bluff online was poor, but for $13.50 a night, we couldn't understand who had sabotaged their online review. The place was quiet (we were the only ones there for the first day), there was an animal farm, multiple playgrounds, hot showers, and best of all, it was right on a river connected to bayous! I had been waiting to see a bayou, and only a mile away from Texas, I was afraid we weren't going to. It was a gorgeous place, and a generous man from down the river named Don came to visit us and let us borrow one of his canoes. He's an amazing artist, but mostly loves diving into the bayou to haul up old logs that were dropped by the many old logging companies in the area, and then selling them for wood. On our third day in the park, Don even took us out on his motor boat to explore the bayou. It was absolutely amazing and an incredible coincidence. I remember standing in the welcome hall in Jennings looking at brochures of swamp tours, but also thinking about how expensive they probably were, yet here I was, enjoying a personalized tour for free!

        Also while at Nibblit's, I wrote my first two songs on the ukulele. “The Unschool Bus” is a quirky introduction of our life, and we're now in the process of making a music video for it. My other new song, I've named “Dreaming Life Away.” I was sitting on the dock strumming some random chords and began to feel inspired. It has a bit of a southern touch to it. Enjoy.

New Orleans, LA

        “I love your hair!” Kelly had colorful wraps decorating her head now.

        “Yeah, Jeff and Xoey have been working on them. It looked ridiculous when there were only a few in, but now it's looking better.”

        We headed to the baggage claim.

        “So, where are we going from here?”

        “Can we go to the treehouse?!” Xoey asked.

        “Yeah, yeah! Let's go!” Griffin agreed.

        “That sounds pretty cool. What is it like?”

        “You just have to see it,” they all told me.

        We headed to the bus. Captain Jeff rolled up, opened the doors, and as soon as I got on, we started moving.
        “Where are we heading?” the captain asked.

        “Treehouse!”

        I was excited. The drive from the airport to the treehouse wasn't all that appealing – mostly highway. I saw a glimpse of it along the way. It looked like a Chuck E. Cheese jungle gym.

        When we got there, I felt just like a child again. Xoey, Griffin, and I ran through the grass, and I followed them up to the top. Only Jeff had taken the risk of climbing up the rickety ladder to the highest globe. I decided to take the chance. There's nothing to fear but fear itself.

        I looked down at Jeff taking photos. I'm glad I have pseudo-parents to capture these kinds of moments. It really takes away from the experience when I take pictures myself.

        Along with the multiple stairways and spheres, there was also a rope bridge, rope swings, a theater stage, a juice bar, and other miscellaneous playground material. The whole structure is made from recycled material, and anyone who has contributed takes on the last name Pterodactyl.

Across the way are some guys in their twenties living in the house on the property. They let anyone hang out on the treehouse. Even the homeless sleep there sometimes. I came across a few empty beer bottles, so I assume it may also be a social hang-out as well.

        The treehouse may have been in a sketchy neighborhood, have graffiti all over it, and have broken windows, but I absolutely loved it. It was magical. We stayed until the night came, and the treehouse lights came on. I laid on the rope bridge staring at the sky, thinking “And this is only the first day...”

        The next few days weren't as action-packed as swinging from ropes, but there was a lot of time to relax and get to know the family better. I found out about the latest drama in the unschooling circle that resembles high school and realized that having a little sister who just turned thirteen isn't always rainbows and butterflies. I forgot about the stubborn “world revolves around me” attitude that comes with teen-hood.

        I was learning new things everyday, like not to directly eat the orange look-a-likes because they actually taste like a mix between lemons and limes, but I also learned that they make great a “lemonade.” I learned that a sick dog can poo something that looks reminiscent of yellow paint, and I've learned that being vegan isn't so bad.

        While I've been in New Orleans, I decided to take out a book that I had to buy for my Magic, Witchcraft, and Sorcery class, but chose not to read during the semester when I was “supposed to.” For me, a teacher telling me to read something always takes the fun out of it. So, every morning I've been waking up with the sun and Voodoo in New Orleans. Jeff then gets up after me to make coffee for himself and tea for me. Then he continues on with his ritual of cleaning up from the previous night's dinner.

        After the first rain I've experienced on the Unschool Bus, I was able to redo the side of the bus. It's partially covered in black paint, so we can use chalk to decorate. I worked on becoming ambidextrous by filling in the block letters of “UNSCHOOLBUS.COM” with my left hand. It feels great to have the time to do things such as that that may have no practical purposes, but may work another part of my brain that has been left behind all these years.

        The only “tourist-y” thing we've done here so far is taking a walk in the French Quarter. What we have found is that this is a place for drinking and buying vacationer-approved gris-gris. Otherwise we've been hanging out in Wal-Mart parking lots and at the house on Independence St. that Jeff is working on. The landlord will be giving the renters thirty days notice for eviction, and we'll be back in twenty-five to continue the renovations.

        The first moment of stress I've had has come along with the arrival of my new vagabond friend, Mambo. She's a black and white rat who I named after the word for a voodoo priestess. Setting up her cheap cage in the dim light was really getting on my nerves, but when I was finally finished, I was able to take a breath, sit down, and enjoy the delicious dinner of rice and veggies that Kelly made.

        That night and the next morning I started training Mambo. She now enjoys hanging out on my shoulder and the back of my neck, probably because my dreads keep her warm and cozy. I was afraid that the dogs would scare her, but they seem to be more curious about her than ready to attack. She's already pooped on me about five times. I think it's love. I took her on her first walk into the bargain shops along Dauphin St. to try to find her a toy and possibly sell my book. Neither were accomplished, but I did find a small Christmas ornament on the ground, which I now have wrapped in electric tape to be used as a toy ball. I also managed to grab free newspapers for her cage bedding and a sticker that says “VAGINA MAFIA” to complete the collection on my laptop. I also wonder what it means...The important part is that it's a souvenir from New Orleans.

Before the Bus

WOODSTOCK, NY - 3 days

        A mountain home is filled with books. A kind soul is in the kitchen. Pictures of Native Americans, pin-up models, and famous pacifists decorate the walls. Loki, a large black lab, is the older sister to the new pomeranian pup, Snoop. For three days, I will be the fourth inhabitant of this house.

        Dinner is a delight. My stomach fills up like a balloon. I go to the living room, lay on my mattress next to the Christmas tree, and breathe. I have started my journey, but it is time to relax.

         I read the last four chapters of Lies My Teacher Told Me. A friend told me that's enough to get to the point. I also complete the most intriguing chapters of Indian Givers during my stay.

Errands. I like that Donna and I bond like mother and child. She says she wants to adopt me.

         The mountains are covered in evergreen blankets, and the sun shines over the horizon. I am at peace. I let go. Life takes control for me.

        It's the New Year. I could reflect and make resolutions, but that would require putting my attention on something other than the now. The now is what vitalizes me.

        Dance party tonight. Bearsville Theater. City folk in their best attire and face. Meanwhile, I look a bit plain in my Moon Boots and floral shirt. Get high. Dance like I'm a superstar. The crowd moves me into the spotlight or out of the spotlight depending on my skills. I meet Kyla. We connect. Telepathy ensues. Pink, green, blue glow sticks – shake, shake, shake. I find out I'm going to survive an alien rapture.

        Say goodbye. I have family here.

NEW PALTZ, NY – 5 days

Lowell! Bright blue jacket beams those bright blue eyes. The house is filled with plants. I imagine a jungle. The parakeets add sound to the scene. My own little loft has many books, but I only have time for the first two chapters of The Fountainhead. Lowell doesn't rest. This is boot camp. The ache feels good. I needed to lose that freshman fifteen.

        Get high, get high, get high. Hike, camp, boulder, cave. First time I go underground into complete darkness. Headlamp goes back on. Light, I feel comfort.

        I decide to be a photographer. Take pictures of the scenes, trees, rocks, leaves. Make a watermark. That'll make it look professional.

        Norah is a good cook too. For being poor, I am fed like a queen.

        Bartender Bri wants to go to Oregon, maybe Alaska. Says I can visit her anytime. I love making friends.

NEW YORK CITY, NY – 10 days

        Cydney greets me at Port Authority. Dominican food tonight in Washington Heights. Practico mi español.

        Staying in Jersey. Public transport fees are a bitch. The unlimited metro pass soothes my anxiety from letting go of green pieces of paper. Still manage to spend more than intended, but every experience is worth it.

Go through the books. Find Politics of Experience. Perfect timing.

Botanical Gardens, Museum of Natural History, People's Theater, Queens Nursing Home. Visit my grandfather twice. I wonder if he has my view of death.

        I learn that I like to shovel snow. Never helped my dad with it as a little girl, but now it is relaxing, productive, exhilarating.

        No Pants Subway Ride! 'Nuff said.

Daniel Pinchbeck and Reggie Watts speak tonight. Cydney drags me along even though I wanted to crash. I thank her for it. What a wonderful atmosphere with absurd but enlivening ideas bouncing from head to head.

        I meet Eliott. Eliott – the first boy to have precognitive dreams about me. In his twenties, but a boy. We are child-like together.

        Cydney invites him over for a mini sleepover the next night. Dan is over too. Positive crowd. Bev bakes the best cupcakes. We buy a giant fairy coloring book and crayons. Eliott speaks sweet metaphors to me as he watches me color him a picture. Fire starts.

        We move to a loft in a dark room. I see Eliott's figure, but big black holes for his eyes. I look at my hands to check if I'm dreaming. He still speaks in metaphors. He holds his hand out. “Octopus.” I now see eight moving extensions. This is all a dream. I am constantly in illusion.