The Plan
As I stated before, I wasn’t new to RV living. I had kept my RV at my parents house before moving to Camarillo in anticipation of staying there during flight weeks for work. I hadn’t intended on going back to live there full time at all, much to my dismay. Unfortunately with California’s response to COVID, obtaining a rental house while I waited for mine to sell was damn near impossible. This was just another bullet point in my decision to be a nomad.
God I love Camarillo. Every time I fly above it I’m reminded about how beautiful it is. The giant “Dinosaur Mountains” (as Alexis puts it), the food, the people, the shops, the beaches. Ventura County is where I feel like my heart has always belonged. Plenty of hiking, bike riding, jiu jitsu, crossfit, surfing… you name it. It’s an active person’s DREAM to live here.
This place as affluent as fuck. There’s dog parks everywhere, where people bring their “gangs” of labradoodles and great danes to play. Their dog parents all know each other too, which I found hilarious. Another dog would show up to the park and suddenly it was “Oh hey, Bruno! How’s it going buddy!?” Meanwhile Bruno is snout deep in another dog’s butt. We legit saw an entire dog soccer game… I kid you not! Some people meet up in parking lots with their supped up race cars, these people meet up in grassy knolls and host doggy soccer. Weirdest… shit… ever.
I’m currently packing my house I write this. I have come to terms with the fact that I’m leaving this beautiful place and heading back to the desert temporarily. I try not to focus too much on that as it makes my skin crawl just thinking about it. I would rather eat dog shit than go back to my home town for a third time. Like, if someone asked me “Hey Linnie, would you eat this warm, mushy dog turd if it meant you can stay in Camarillo/Ventura County forever” I would ask them how many. I eat them turds like brownies… it wouldn’t matter.
So I started formulating this radical plan where I’d travel the US. My house is in escrow (the previous buyers bailed on the last freakin day!) so I have nowhere else to live. I had originally tried talking “Alexis” into moving to Texas with me to be closer to her kids and so we could have the highest degree of personal freedom, but well… that didn’t happen. Alternatively, we both dreamed of traveling the US together in an RV while she was a travel nurse. I decided to keep that dream alive, seeing as I didn’t know where I wanted to live. The problem was I no longer had the truck to pull my RV… AND I hate pulling trailers. So it was decided that I’d sell my RV and buy a motorhome; I already had one picked out and everything. Life on the road was going to be terrifyingly awesome!
I told very little people about my plan, just so I didn’t jinx myself if I ended up getting cold feet. The more I thought of it the more sure I became of it. I started researching RV models and told my parents a rough idea of what I wanted to do. Suddenly I was bombarded with videos and tips galore from my parents who fully supported my endeavor. That’s one thing I can say with absolutely certainty that I really lucked out in the parental department. They have fully supported me through my divorce, my sexuality, my new relationships, and now with this crisis.
Once I expressed my idea of traveling and creating this blog I had an outpouring of love and support. My Aunt gave me more RV ideas. My friends gave me ideas and places to stay.
Despite the despair of heart break, I really am a lucky gal…
I told my friend and flight instructor, Ana, about my idea. She too has had experience burning things to the ground and just saying “fuck it!” I told her the general premise of traveling in an RV for 50 days to which she replied: “Do it! Why stop at 50 days? Do 500 days! Fly all the planes! Explore the county! Wrestle an alligator! Do coke! Strip for money! The world is your oyster!” (Well, maybe she didn’t say ALL of that..). Ana has always been the ‘kick the tires, light the fires’ type and always has a way of encouraging me to go beyond my own fears and self doubts.
But with every Hype Woman comes the voice of reasoning. I sat in my truck on speaker phone, my friend and confidant Dicarie talking me through the process. He first hit me up because he noticed I was selling all my stuff (my street bike, my travel trailer, my musical instruments… etc). He sensed something was amiss and made sure I wasn’t also writing my last will. He’s got a knack for that. Where I have a high degree of emotional intelligence, Dicarie has significantly more. This guy is fucking Einstein when it comes to EQ. So where my friend Ana was encouraging me to full send it, Dicarie was making sure I stayed grounded. The Ying and the Yang.
Dicarie: “Ok… so after this trip… what’s the plan?”
Me: “I’m going to go North!”
Dicare: “No like… what are you going to do when you’re done living in the RV? Just making sure this isn’t an impulse decision…”
Me: Shit me got me “Naw man, I plan on finding out where I want to live later from this trip” (which is partially true!).
Dicarie has this way of thinking things through and giving the best advice. I’ve routinely hit him up on major life changing decisions and I leaned on him heavily on weighing my decision to leave a job I had grown to hate but had profound guilt for leaving. I’m a firm believer that everyone needs someone like Dicarie in their life… someone who you can run crazy ideas past and will interject logic and reason while still being there to hype you up when you need it. I call him my “Sounding Board,” and I believe that everyone should have someone to play that role.
After walking through the thought process with my family, “Alexis,” Dicarie, Ana, and several other folks I had a plan made. I would sell the things I didn’t need anymore and put what little I had left in storage. I would buy the motorhome. I would add an internet hotspot in my motorhome so I can work and travel. I would take Mishka with me since she’s old and deserves to see the world before she goes. I would blog my entire experience on the road as I try new and scary things. Lastly, I would send Alexis a post card from every adventure I did as an homage to the adventures I promised I’d take her on. At the end of my journey, I would travel to Louisiana to meet again and talk about the growth we experienced apart from each other.
Or so I hope.
