1. Friday, September 15, 2006

    day seven 

    chicago. the guy who said you cant go home again clearly didnt have google maps. hi, im in my mommas house. its 455am and i hafta wake up in a few hours to go to wrigley field.

    i shouldnt have accepted the generous offer from one of my busblog readers to meet him at the park and hang out with him in the bleachers because i havent had a good night’s sleep in weeks, but how often do i get to go to the greatest park in the world to see my favorite team? decades maybe? yes, decades.

    and i have nothing planned for saturday and i begged my mom to let me sleep in then so she will allow it. however you know a phone will ring or a vaccuum will get turned on or neices or nephews will arrive or the planet will explode which is probably why my body forced me to pull over this evening in wisconsin as the sun set to grab 4 winks and instead gave me 14.

    yes all these instances where i entered a rest stop to actually rest only afforded me 4-5 minutes of actual shut eye, but today for some reason when i was hoping for only 10 minutes of z’s it turned into 150 minutes of zzzzzzzzzzzz’s, totally fucking up my travel plans and making me arrive in the windy at 1am. thus here we are 4 hours later, ive finished my work for most of tomorrow’s LAist and leaving the best for last here i am writing tomorrows blog post tonight. or something.

    hi america.

    i got a very sweet phone call from an x as i drove through madison tonight. i told her that i had not been kissed during this entire journey so far and she said you forgot to pack your mojo, i picked up your mail this morning and i saw it on top of your cd wallet and your pumas. she told me she’d fed ex it tomorrow which is killer cuz i wondered wtf was happening.

    this morning i woke up early and took a looong shower and packed up and went over to the mall of america where i interviewed some people and wasnt all that impressed by the largest mall in the world. for some reason i was expecting more. still i bought some cool toys which i will send to africa to impress the kids over there and then i went to chipotle and worked for about two hours and hit the road.

    minnesota truly does have all those lakes and they seem to end as soon as you cross the border into wisconsin. i seriously saw a 10 foot cow in the dairy state as well as some buffalos. the rains have made everything super green and the sun made everything so pretty. i bought a bunch of cheese for my friends back in LA but the lady said are you crazy you cant mail that shit. and so i guess i will have to eat it all.

    getting into IL i was greeted with the first toll roads on the journey. when i lived in frisco i didnt mind paying $4 or $3 for the bridges because you could always see people on the bridges painting them and whatnot but $1.60 for two miles of roadway? i didnt understand that concept. here i had driven 3,000 miles for free, why was this ugly stretch of illinois highway costing me anything? and then two miles later they asked for another buck, and then as i exited off the 59 they asked for fourty cents.

    fuck richard daley jr. fuck the white sox. and fuck tolls.

    somehow i made it to the town next to the town where i grew up and i had no idea where i was. i called my mommy and i said omg Streamwood Lanes! the bowling alley where i learned my secret skill. it looked so modern. there i knew where i was. i turned down lake street past the little league where i learned my not so secret skills and soon i was home. it was warm, my mom was waiting on the porch, the dogs were barking when i pulled up into the driveway and the neighbors turned on their lights to see what the commotion was but i was so tired i pulled out my .38 and shot one of their porch lights out and you could hear the kids whisper so thats him.

    jimh redid my banner