Even Cowgirls Get the Blues Book

You know that road trip you've always wanted to take? (Maybe you've taken it already and if so, I am jealous of you.) You know that road trip you're always planning, the one where you drive a beat-up, gorgeous, car full of books and old clothes, and mix tapes and takeout containers and random souveneirs of americana, through america, maybe by yourself or maybe with one or a few of the people you love most in the world? And you take polaroids of yourself and your wear ripped up jeans and drive barefoot and wear big hunter s. style shades and hang one foot out the window sometimes and sometimes when traffic is bad you park the car by the side of the road and turn the music up real loud and dance until the traffic dies down and find beautiful, hidden places that you can't get to by plane or bus or chartered tour, those places in america (you know they're there) accessible only by Really Awesome Roadtrip? And you stay up driving all night and pointing out stars through the windshield and sometimes you have long conversations where you get honest and earthy and grounded and dangerous in a way you can't get except in a car, on a road trip, somewhere halfway into America, and sometimes you have sex in the car, late at night in parking lots or in the afternoon with summer making the leather seats sticky and making car-smell and body-smell the same thing and afterwards you go the a dairy queen by the side of the road and buy milkshakes and drink them giggling like kids getting away with something? And you drive over mountains that you think you maybe won't ever find your way out of and through states like Wyoming where there's nothing but the road and the sky and you feel so gloriously small that you completely forget what you look like? And you meet gorgeous, prophetic, fictive strangers and have incredibly intense experiences with them and feel like you're in a movie and novel and a rock song and love them perfectly because you know you won't ever see them again? And get, finally, to the other side of the country, tired and sore and stained and achy and grouchy and just totally, totally transcendent, and feel that you understand yourself in a way you always wanted to understand yourself, but never knew how to get to before?


This book is like that road trip.

[Significantly cheaper, too.]