Expired Passport

About three weeks ago my passport expired. I only got two stamps in it in 10 years. Granted, since only an estimated 38% of U.S. citizens have a passport, I’m still ahead of the game. The reason I bring this up is, I was pretty sure I would feel like a foreigner while trekking through eight states. In reality, I was pretty right.

I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty nervous about driving through some areas of the country. Especially since I have an HRC sticker on the back of my car. Since my parents know what it is, I kind of assume everyone does and I knew I was going to be driving through some unwelcoming country. Where exactly that was, I wasn’t sure, but I sure as hell was ready to fight if the chance arose. Those of you who know I’ve never been in a fight and would rather talk out a solution than take a swing know I would have gotten my ass handed to me (Luckily, my friends all said its small and flat…assholes). But I was ready for some redneck trucker or intolerant Mormon to lose his mind on me.

Nevada, not phased. Actually everyone seemed really nice. Even the large woman I got into a conversation with at a gas station in the literal middle of no where who jumped into her large husband’s large truck. I did got a few looks there, but I think it may have had to due with my CA plates than my sticker.

Utah, and particularly Salt Lake City, I never felt totally comfortable in. Something about the Mormon agenda fighting against the Homosexual Agenda so fiercely that really tans my hide. I mean, we’re just trying to get lunch people, geeze! Now, I realize that not all Mormons are bad and I’m not saying they are, I’m just saying as a church sponsored hating activity, I loathe and despise what they did in regards to Prop 8 in California (and what they did in the movie Latter Days, which you need to watch if you haven’t seen). While they have some beautiful scenery, making sure everyone knows they hate the gays has made the city, well…ugly. But I digress (if digress means, moved on as quickly as possible, then I digress).

Wyoming was up next, and of course it has a LONG history of being super gay friendly. I mean, I’ve never seen so many damn naturally occurring rainbows in my life as I did in Wyoming. Yes, even when Sal bleeds, still nothing in comparison. Meanwhile, Wyoming is technically the “Equal Rights” state, it makes it hard to forget Matthew Shepard and of course BrokeBack Mountain (which apparently was really sad, but I didn’t know why. Jake Gyllenhal was a total little bitch in that movie and so was Heath Ledger. I mean grow a pair boys and just let it happen. I also thought it was unfortunate that Jake had to go back into the closet after coming out in that movie, cause really…homo). So, I got the hell out of that state which is how I landed in Colorado.

Oh Colorado. I felt right at home. I don’t know why, but I felt like belonged there. I’m sure it was the fact that I had altitude sickness and almost gave myself whiplash looking at the hot men wandering around. Denver felt like California to me, except, with cheaper gas and parking.

I thought Nebraska would present some sort of problem, but I flew right through that state. Having never heard good or bad about it, I wasn’t in the least big worried. Plus I figured Maxwell could out run whatever junkyard heap was trying to chase me down (PS, totally right). Everyone was real friendly there however, as far as I could tell, not that I was trying to get to know people.

Iowa was actually the only state I actually had a problem with. And thats cause I got pulled over by officer McBeefy and got a warning for speeding. Whateves, I didn’t let that needle go over the limit once after that. I can’t afford a ticket if I’m unemployed. When I pulled into the World’s Largest Truckstop however, I got more stares and side eyes that you can imagine. I was nervous about my car being in the parking lot the entire time because from the moment I got off the freeway, people were giving me dirty looks. I don’t know if its cause they were jealous cause I’m so pretty, or if they’re confused cause, no, I’m convinced it’s cause I’m pretty (just go with it people). In any case, I felt as uncomfortable there as I did in Utah.

When I rolled into Illinois, I was very relieved. For one to go above the posted speed limit and not worry about being arrested, and for another, cause i already felt like I was home. Weird I know, but thats the way it worked.

Before I left home, my dad insisted that I remove my HRC sticker for safety. I never really thought about it until he said that. I told him I would and I fully planned on it. Honestly, I was scared of what might happen. Now, nothing did, and I made it safe and sound and I’m very happy about that. In hindsight, I’m very glad I didn’t remove it. I’m very glad that even though I felt like I was in a different world and at times, risking my safety by basically advertising my sexuality on my car driving through some unwelcoming states, I still did it. Fuck the homo haters, they talk a big game on the internet and when they’re all together and drunk, but if they were offended by my sticker, no one said a peep. I think that deserves another stamp in my passport, even though it’s expired.

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