Home on the range.

It usually takes me about a week to get into the swing of things whenever I go to home. And where is home for the girl without a permanent address? Wherever my parents live, of course. And for the past 15 years, that’s been the bustling metropolis of Omak, Washington.

Never heard of it? That’s surprising considering Omak is staging ground for the World Famous Suicide Race—an annual, aptly-named horse race that involves riders hurling themselves down a 45-degree slope into a fast-moving river and out the other side, finally ending in the rodeo grounds where legions of men wearing giant belt buckles and women sporting ‘80s perms await them in breathless anticipation. You can pretty much bank on at least one horse breaking a leg, or, if it’s a big year, a rider breaking his neck. Seriously.

Unsurprisingly, PETA has a hey-day.

I’ve witnessed the Suicide Race exactly one time, which turned out to be more than enough. But for some reason, I keep on being suckered into going to the accompanying carnival despite the fact that every time I’ve gone, I vowed to never return. It’s hot. It’s dusty. It’s full of carnies. And the rides are held together by chewing gum and baling wire. And the people. Oh, Dear Lord, the people. They’re like Mark Walberg’s family in The Fighter.

But I digress. Getting into the swing of things at home involves waking up late, eating insane amounts of food, driving to Walmart at least once a day, watching questionable movies, and reading a lot of books. It takes me about a week because my internal clock is slow to reset itself to lounge time. But once it’s there, I become a sloth of gigantic proportions. I eat cake for breakfast. At noon. I watch Point Break. And like it. I shop the Miley Cyrus collection. And wear it unironically.

Quite frankly, the only reason you’re reading this—the only reason I’m bothering to write it—is because I have work to do and am procrastinating. Otherwise, I’d be gearing up to watch Dirty Dancing Havana Nights (though my sister would have to help me since I still haven’t figured out how to use the remote) while eating my way through an entire bag of gummy cinnamon bears. I’m tying to be extra-slothfull this visit because I probably won’t be home for at least another year. Maybe longer. As you can tell, my life is a little up in the air right now. Good thing I have an entire red velvet cake waiting to weigh me back down…