still here

at the balloon festival. Or more precisely, the parking lot. Wait, no - even that doesn't properly describe it. It's more of a dirt/dust pile with a few scraggles of grass in it with a bunch of hay laid down on top to help alleviate the dust. Some might call it a field. Oh how I love Oklahoma! I'm so not a country girl. But I haven't even gotten to the good part yet. There's one single-lane exit with a line about 3/4 mile or so long. We waited in line for 30 minutes without moving a foot before we pulled over and parked it. Our gas light came on. Yep, we're almost out of gas with no end to this line in sight, and once we finally get out of here we have to not only find, but also get to a gas station. So we wait until we won't have to wait. Ironic, isn't it? I hate irony. Oh, and have I mentioned? It's hot. (Chris wants to be sure the whole world knows it's not a dry heat.)

*update*
Chris just went to ask a cop if he knew of a gas station. The cop said that there's one a mile away, but he wouldn't reccomend that one. He said Chris would be a whitey in a non-white neighborhood. Little does he know...Chris is brown!