Dakota

Which Ani DiFranco Album Are You?

Brought to you by Tracie

I don't know what you're after, want to know all the details of my disaster. Like an accident on the side of the road, and you're driving past slow, but there's "nothing to see here."

I am some kind of freak now, and you'll never see me the same. What's all the fuss about? Are you sure you want to find out? 'Cause once you know the truth, you might wish you'd walked away.

What if I'm not able to put my cards on the table? Would it liberate you, if you knew what I knew?

It's been over a year now, and I never saw him again. The facts and the fiction collide, as the bodies untangle, and the traffic goes on like it did.

Okay, so the plans with Genevieve - through no fault of her own - fell through.

So, I called Dad. Explained my issue. To get to Atlantic City, I need to go to Trenton and then to Philadelphia and then I get to AC.

That sucks.

So, I call Joyce. Not to ask her to drive me, but to ask her to help me figure out the fucking njtransit.com website -- I don't know where these places are, so I can't possibly figure out how to go from these places to another.

She says she'll drive me to Toms River, despite her meeting which takes place in Middletown, which she says is 15 miles before Toms.

I don't want Joyce to drive me. I hate driving with Joyce because she's a fucking psycho on the road, particularly on a schedule like this. And she says that she wants to talk to my father.

I never want Joyce to talk to my father.

I ask her why, and she says that she wants to know his schedule. I told her that he doesn't have one, and we can go any time. She is persistent; she wants to call Dad to figure out where we're stopping and stuff.

Maybe this is reasonable. I don't care. I don't want Joyce to talk to Dad. They don't communicate well. This is why they stopped talking to each other two years before they got a divorce.

So, I'm here, waiting for some semblance of an answer.

Spite.