LA: Not Troll. Hayden, actually.

June 1, 2011

Before I begin my first blog entry(!), I would like to clear one thing up. The name of this series, as titled by my mother, is Traveling with Troll. If you aren’t my mother or myself, you probably don’t know the story of the infamous Troll and possibly and probably assumed that I was said troll. When my mother pitched the idea of this blog and its title to me, I immediately jumped to the defense and insisted she not refer to me as a grotesque woodland creature in a public forum. Once she cleared it up, I agreed to log my perspective on what I’m sure to be is a lovely vacation not without its mother/daughter hiccups. I am taking this first paragraph of what are hopefully many more entries to come, to squash the misconception that I am the Troll with which my mother is traveling. I’m not pocket sized, and much to my dismay, I don’t glow in the dark. (For more description on the Troll in question, visit my mother’s description) I function perfectly well on the road, providing I have the proper exfoliant and abundant leg room. (Please note that Autocorrect wants to change ‘exfoliant’ and for just a moment I wish Autocorrect and I could verbally joust about how to spell it and whether or not it’s a word. For the record, I’m right.)

Since I’m writing on a train about a vacation that’s 2/7 train ride (math!), it seems only logical that I spend a little time writing about the train. I shall name it Phoenix, since it’s a Southwest train, and Phoenix is lovely city in the Southwest region of the US. See what I did there? I think Phoenix is taking us through Colorado right now, but I haven’t been paying very much attention to the signage, and it’s quite possible that we’re in New Mexico, or if Phoenix (OH MY GOD I JUST SAW A HEARD OF ELK NOT EVEN KIDDING WHAT ARE THEY DOING THIS FAR SOUTH!?) wants to visit his family, we’re passing through Arizona. I think we’re in Colorado still, because there are mountains, and anyone who’s anyone knows that there are SOLELY mountains in Colorado. *Phoenix is hitting some turbulence, and typing this while gyrating up and down is making me a little dizzy. That’s a disclaimer for when I start spelling things rong.

Last night was our first night on the train. Phoenix’s sleeper cars are not what I expected, although I wasn’t able to paint a hugely accurate mental picture based of the tiny photograph I received on my phone. It was to be expected that my baby giraffe body and Orangutan limbs would not do well in a cabin that’s seven cubic feet. I did however manage to watch some Glee, so go figure. On the bright side, I did get the top bunk. It’s like being in NASA up there. The five pillows I requested, (I like my back supported, okay?) plus my generic Snuggie, also called a Fuzzie Wuzzie, makes it down right homie. Speaking of back support, my mother and I immediately met and befriended a fabulous but slightly husky Hispanic man named Jose (shocker). I describe him as a combination of burley and joyful because the jury is still out on what team he plays for. My mom thinks that his tongue being pierced gives it away but the fact that he has snuck (though I caught him) multiple glances at my butt indicates otherwise.

I’m getting hungry, so see yeah. Sorry this first entry was less than impressive.

Xoxo,

Not troll