end of an evening

i like alex. can tell she's having a rough nite though - perhaps due to my unintentional games (though, i think she was more entertained, than anything, by my state of delirium). the bar is short-handed to handle the crowd outside. she's busting ass. i patiently wait. order a second drink and some soup (for my cold of course). some sorority chicks at the other end of the bar start bitching. have alex running around. then some drunk guy stiffs her on his bill. pretty shitty. i leave a $7 tip to help compensate for the schmucks she has to deal with.

drive around town to find a place to crash. sarah from muddy's had offered to let me park the deathcab at her place and sleep in it there. strange offer i thought. think she was trying to be nice but not too nice. i am a stranger after all. check it out. decide the brookside spot of last nite is more to my liking. she had invited me to go to church with her tomorrow too. call her up to find out when and where. she changed her mind and is going to a kansas city chiefs game instead. didn't know that i wanted to go anyway. though perhaps due to my overwhelming sickness (both physically and mentally) i thought it might do me some good to get back in the lord's good graces. might go by myself tomorrow.

bar games

go to mccoy's afterwards - the place where lucero went after their show last nite. some bands are playing outside - stellastarr and somebody else more famous that i can't remember. don't care about the music though. burned out, still feeling sick. exhausted. decide to stay in and sit at the bar. probably have a drink. relax. become entranced by whatever sporting event is on tv...

the bartender (female) comes by. places a coaster and napkin in front of me...

what can i get for you? (with a stuffy nose) do you have dr. pepper? yes? yes we do. could i get a dr. pepper and jagermeister please? oh, sure. she turns and starts making my drink. i begin fidgiting absent-mindedly with my coaster. staring at the tv above. hey, were you in here last nite? nope (first time ever). somebody ordered the same thing last nite and it's not exactly a popular drink, you know? (smiling a little) yeah, i know.

she walks back with my beverage in hand. here you go... she slowly lowers the drink to rest it on my coaster. (oh, let me get that out of the way for you) i slide the coaster from beneath her hovering hand and beverage. puzzled - she lifts the drink up. looks at me confused. smiles. then tries again. lowers the drink...

i slide the coaster out of the way again...

she stares back at me. shrugs. moves the drink back and forth in the air trying to catch where i might finally rest the coaster. smiling at me like we're playing a game - a game i'm unwittingly participating in and one she probably doesn't really have time for. then it dawns on me...

oh, shit! i'm sorry. i don't know what the hell i'm doing? i release the coaster altogether allowing her to finally put the drink down. sorry, about that. (politely) that's alright. i'm alex, by the way...

the tea drops its balls

find the westport area of kc. young and hip. lots of bars, music shops, restaurants. and the best tea shop ever - tea drops. this place rules! got a chai shake. came with these big ol' tapioca balls in the bottom. sweet! so good and tasty and funny feeling. all these balls rolling around in my mouth (insert dirty joke here).

art is a dead end

that was a long painful story. sorry. back to driving. check out a bunch of kansas city. downtown. come across this billboard that grabs my attention for obvious reasons - ART. pretty cool. though odd that it marks a dead end. hmm?... what could it mean? maybe art really is a road that leads nowhere? maybe i should quit altogether? yes, that's it! i'm done with art. no more drawing, painting, photographing, writing, designing, thinking. thank god! done for good. maybe i'll be happier now. gonna go drink myself into a slumber. see ya!

to conclude

answering machine. ain't even heather's. i don't think? unless she's married to, or lives with, this bob guy. you'd think if that was the case though bob would have said something like "this is bob and heather's..." or "this is bob, addicted to using heather's brain..." guess it's just not in the cards. maybe she moved. or maybe she just had her cheap joe's order shipped to a friend who lives here? "the little man." who knows? but well... friends, family, my cheap joe's comrades - i tried my damnedest to meet the most psychotic person in the world. that's all you can ask for. time to stalk someone normal for a change.

an answer

someone picks up the phone...

hello?... hello? is this hea... hey, this is BOB! BOB BOMB. i'm not home right now. please leave a message and i'll get back to you as soon as i can. thanx. bye!

last second thoughts

ringring... ringring... i'm going to jail... ringring... ringring... she's gonna go psycho on my ass... ringring... ringring... why am i doing this to myself?... ringring... ringring...

pressing buttons

but then again, when have i ever done what's best for me?

i turn back around. go inside the building. look that intercom right in the eye... alright, so you think yr all big and bad and tough huh? well why don't you pick on someone yr own size? i punch 0 with the entire force of my index finger. oh, yeah? you like that huh? i bob and weave. dance like muhammad ali. punch 4. don't like that so much do you? how bout this? the knockout blow... #8 with a middle finger. get up punk! get up. i dare ya!

calling it quits

with those two scenarios in mind, i decide it's probably best for me to leave while i still can. i turn around and walk out of heather's apt building.

the fat sumo boy

it's amazing what you can find on the internet - the fat sumo boy.

scenario #2 (certainly the more feasible of the two)

i press 0 4 8. the intercom unit emits a dialtone. then a requesting ring. ringring... ringring... ringring... ringring... ringring... ringring... heather runs to her front door, presses a button on the wall, and talks into the receiver...

hello? hello? is this heather? heather bomb? yes, who is this? well, you don't really know me but we've kind of talked before... and exchanged a few emails... my name is jamie... jamie from... CHEAP JOE'S ART STUFF... (a horror/suspense flick 'DUHDUHDUM' sounds)

silence. no answer... heather?... still no answer...

bzzz!!chink!! the door in front of me unlocks. i'm allowed entrance. i walk upstairs and down a long hallway. last room on the right - #048. i face the door. take a deep breath. raise my fist. tap once. the door swings open...

hello?...

i see nothing. eyes slow to adjust to the darkness of the room. i see a hand floating. index finger extends. curls. entices me to come here, come here. i step forward. the door quickly shuts behind me. i feel a warm breath on the back of my neck. i turn quickly. heather has her arms wrapped around me. she's kissing my neck. i grab her shoulders and push her away slightly. she's wearing a pleasantly-revealing piece of negligee (a frilly lace teddy or something of the sort. use yr imagination).

kiss me. what?

she presses her lips to mine. running her fingers thru my hair. we caress. embrace. she throws me to the floor. straddles me at the waist. pins my arms down and starts kissing my neck.

well, this was unexpected. shut up. ok...

she lifts my shirt and kisses my chest. works her way lower and lower. i lift my head to see her moving down. she starts unlatching my belt. woo-hoo!! i rest my head back down. look up into the dark air above. smile. sweet begeezus!!

then without warning - she quickly throws herself back onto my pelvis. tightens her legs around me. raises her arms high above her head... what's that shiny sharp object you've got in yr hands there dear?... brings her arms down. thrusts the object into my chest. then out. up. into the air above her head again... oh shit. that's an ice pick. you're stabbing me with an ice pick. i thought we were gettin it on... she stabs me again... it's like that scene in basic instinct with sharon stone and michael douglas... she stabs me again... not michael douglas. the fat sumo boy rather... she stabs me again... and again... and again... oh well, not much i can do now... my head dizzies. brilliant splashes of red spew forth saturating everything within my vision.... aaargh!!

i die.

scenario #1

i press 0 4 8. the intercom unit emits a dialtone. then a requesting ring. ringring... ringring... ringring... ringring... ringring... ringring... heather runs to her front door, presses a button on the wall, and talks into the receiver...

hello? hello? is this heather? heather bomb? yes, who is this? well, you don't really know me but we've kind of talked before... and exchanged a few emails... my name is jamie... jamie from... CHEAP JOE'S ART STUFF... (a horror/suspense flick 'DUHDUHDUM' sounds)

she tries to speak but the words do not escape. disbelief. shock. her eyes bulge. pupils dialate. mouth drops open. the hairs on her neck and arms raise. her finger slowly slips from the intercom unit. she takes a few clumsy steps backwards. swaying as if by breeze. a gasp exits her parched lips. eyes roll back into their sockets. her body collapses to the floor in a heap. there's a brief stillness. a peaceful shock-induced slumber. then her body starts spasming. arms, legs flail. head arches. tongue rolls back. spasmatic convulsions. twitching like a bug with a smashed-in head, not yet dead.

heather?... heather?... are you there?

death or arrest

i look at the directory and H-BOMB's listing one more time. #048. look to my left at the intercom system. run my fingers along the keypad without depressing any buttons. do i really want to do this? what am i gonna say? more importantly, what is she going to do? kill me or call the cops? a couple scenarios cross my mind -

is there a BOMB in the house?

someone enters the hallway. i hide my camera under my arm. turn to face her. a thirty-something yr old woman fishing in her purse for her keys. she squeezes her way past me...

hello. hello. i'm sorry, but do you know of an H-BOMB that lives here? a who? heather bomb? no. sorry there's a lot of people who live here. okay, thanks.

she finds her keys, unlocks the door, and lets herself in. i think of sliding thru before the door locks shut again but she's looking at me suspiciously the whole time. i avert my attention back towards the resident directory.

okay, last name is... BOMB. BOMB? BOMB? BOMB? BOMB? BOMB? BOMB? where's a BOMB? hmmm... here's a BOMB. hmm... any other BOMBS? BOMB? BOMB? BOMB? BOMB? nope. hmm... is that how you spell BOMB? can't remember? think she spelled it differently. well, only one BOMB here, got to be her... room #048.

for my cheap joe's homees (if i get arrested you best be bailing me out of jail)

i enter the building. the entrance hallway is quite short with just one door leading upstairs. locked of course. no way of getting in without being buzzed thru. look around. there's the intercom. there's the directory with all of the residents' names and corresponding rooms. and over here - rows and rows of mailboxes. now where is heather's? 301, 301, 301? ah ha!! i've found it. #301. proof! proof i'm just as crazy as she is for driving half-way zig-zagged across the country to stalk, i mean talk, to her.

the last communique

i find a mailbox just across the street and station myself there briefly. i write a message on the back of a postcard, addressed to my cheap joe's crew - dear comrades, i've located the headquarters of one, Miss Heather L. Bomb. i'm positioned just west of our target. i'm about to go in. wish me luck!!

H-BOMB HQ

and then i quickly but non-chalantly turn around. take a couple shots of the H-BOMB's residence. (whistling) don't mind me. just admiring the view. don't know why you're all taking pictures of the park and skyline when you have this gem right here. just look at the beautiful architecture... and those a/c units?... and bricks?... and oh! it's magnificent.

there's a time and a place...

and one of this statue...

statue? isn't there something i'm supposed to be doing to statues? oh, right! humping!! leg humping to be exact.

come on now, there's a time and a place for everything - but not here, not now, and not with a little boy. pedostatueaphilia - gross! no jailbait. i'll keep an eye out for the older legal sister.

undercover

i call a few comrades back at cheap joe's HQ. get the H-BOMB's complete address on file there. 817 __________ st. #301, kansas city, mo.

i get there. scope out the territory (and yes, i'm pretty sure all this is highly illegal. tell no one about this. no one)....

fortune smiles upon me. the H-BOMB lives across the street from a park with a scenic view of the city. many a tourist (or spy, in this case) may photograph without suspicion. i'll just take a few shots of the skyline here...

back to the mission at hand

your objective: knowing the H-BOMB lives somewhere in kansas city (recalled from her cheap joe's order), find out where exactly. make an impromptu visit and introduce yourself if feeling ballsy. be sure to document all events as evidence. try not to get arrested or killed in the process.

an introduction to the H-BOMB (cont.) (cont.)

i deliberate on my next course of action. a more direct means of communication seems to be in order. find out what the hell she's smoking?

i call the H-BOMB...

ring... ring...

the hairs rise on the back of my neck...

ring... ring... ring... ring...

(voice mail picks up)(the H-BOMB's staccato voice) "you have reached... the home of... Heather L. Bomb, addicted... to using... my brain. please leave a message... and i will get back to you... as soon as... humanly... possible."

uhh... addicted to using my brain? what the hell does that mean?

i leave a message -

(pleasant and chipper; in complete contrast to the H-BOMB) "hello! this message is for Heather Bomb! this is jamie at cheap joe's art stuff! i was calling in regards to a problem with your order! please give me a call back when you can at... "

the next day we speak via phone. i, nor the H-BOMB, make reference to any previous communique. no mention of the psychotic / schitzophrenic emails or voicemail. she sounds relatively normal over the phone. no mention of "the little man" or "can-openers" or "solid gold toilet seats." we resolve whatever problem there is with her order, i think? hang up completely confused and... intrigued.

maybe me and the Deathcab will make a little visit to Heather L. Bomb?...

an introduction to the H-BOMB (cont.)

i decide it's in my best interest to stop further correspondence with the H-BOMB. a few days later though, to my surprise, she sends another communique...



8/21/2005 3:08 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
On Friday - after my apartment office had closed I received notification that I had 3 ups packages from you.

On Saturday afternoon after getting home from running errands I picked up 2 packages, and phoned your 800 number.

My order number was 38..... and you were to have added on the wknt item to bring the total to 138.91. The TWO packages I received were from order number *******. The packing list listed the right information but the TWO boxes did not contain A3R2/WKNT OR 8900SA the Tote Express with wheels and a compartment underneath for textbooks (DAWN) but instead 8237AB - which is very similar to the box my brother (who is much larger than me, and an ARCHITECT grad, not GRAPHICS and Design like my attempts have been in) had 10 years ago when I returned home with my then husband (who WAS also much larger than me) without having ever finished my education some 5-7 years prior to that.

I have been attempting to do that for the last 4+ years but was unfairly denied educational assistance due to me and never rec'd the first time, etc.

If this has anything to do with the former busser in Salina in the late 80s (when I originally attempted to get that education), who was also a fellow networking co. member at CBN conference center in Virginia Beach, Virginia in the early 90s or masquerading as one, and a Houseman at the hotel I worked at in the mid 90s in Philadelphia/Essington Pa, and who also delivered pizza to "us" (me, my ex-husband, brother and probably a friend or two) back in Olathe in 1995, and who I dated (before I remembered all of these things) - when I was vulnerable - all his lies included, AFTER my divorce in 1997, which I did not cause, by the way - (7-8 years ago now, divorce 9) --- "Mr. Imposter", who WAS my size, is not my brother or ex-husband and is NOT welcome here, has been seen in the vicinity recently, needs to be arrested and I need my correct products. THANK YOU.

(And THAT is a kiss from a THORN, in case you need to know. Quite a few of them.)

No children were directly involved in the above listed true incidents; I am not guarenteeing that none were hurt as a result of it and related incidents, however. Unfortunately. (And one of us DID want them. FAT CHANCE now.) He is also not to be confused with my cousins supposed husband who is also larger and was present in Salina and in my life indirectly AFTER "little man's" exit in 1998.

And yes, I was good once, and I don't copy - not that in classes of individuals ABOVE and outside of grade school and Milli Vanilli mentality - that really is harped on much.

I need to return to you 8237AB, and receive 8900SA and WKNT. (And yeah, I WOULD. Probably have either the degree, OR the kids or even both.)

Sincerely,
Heather L. Bomb
(Who really wants to move foreward.)

8/21/2005 5:08 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
I DID used to know how to spell forward - and that was NOT intentional.

8/22/2005 5:19 AM H-BOMB WRITES:
item#WKNT found - set aside with misc. packing taken out of the box.

All that remains to be resolved is the difference betweent the 30.00 art bin that you sent me and the 100.00 art bin tote "deluxe" that I ordered and paid for.

Ignore the statements about the little man - unless you otherwise need to know. (And though you both came into the scene in this city at the same time, I am assuming your time did not expire with his. Someone needs to tell him his HAS BEEN expired - but whatever - THAT was written primarily to forward to police etc. re: tamperings that have taken place.)

(That means no "What????????????????????????" bull because you know damn good and well that I HAVE BEEN sane.)

Sincerely,
Heather L. Bomb
(Shove your trae in the wind)

8/22/2005 7:26 AM H-BOMB WRITES:
Did Mark apologize enough yet?

Since I said that - there really is something wrong with me. (But we sure won't tell anyone - it might ruin Alan Weinbrenner and the Budke's chances of making me look like something I've NEVER been.)

The layout of Washington D.C. - cross shape on the map - but ALSO so that those inside the city can easily escape in a crisis situation - or something to that effect. As in bug out - hit the road - leave people stranded and high and dry - but not literally when that has not applied for an eternity. (Yeah - you could've stopped recycling that one a long time ago.)

an introduction to the H-BOMB

august 2005 - my last days at cheap joe's art stuff. i send a form email to a customer regarding the order she placed online. to protect this customer's true identity we shall refer to her as HEATHER BOMB or the H-BOMB for short...

8/16/2005 JAMIE@CHEAPJOES WRITES:
dear customer,
on your recent online order you requested a UPS 2ND DAY
AIR. unfortunately we cannot ship your order at the $6.99 rate due to
oversized items on your order. i have therefore removed that charge
from your order and replaced it with a $5 RUSH. a RUSH will make sure it
leaves today and it usually takes 2-3 business days to get to your
location. if this is a problem call asap 1-800-227-2788 otherwise look
for you order soon.

thanx,
cheap joes

8/17/2005 3:40 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
O.K. but that was NOT my order number, AND I talked with one of your agents on the phone about this yesterday. I am going to assume that I was given the right information then. Please do not send me back any more e-mails unless you need to notify me of something really wrong. (NOT THAT THERE HASN'T BEEN SOMETHING REALLY WRONG FOR A LONG TIME AND THE LONGER FOOLS SHOVE IT UNDER THE RUG THE WORSE IT IS GOING TO GET - YOU JUST BE SURE THAT IF YOU ARE GOING TO PLAY GAMES LIKE THAT WITH PEOPLES LIVES YOU LEAVE ME AND MY LIFE OUT OF IT - because some of you have done enough damage, you know who you are and I expect you to correct it.)

h-bomb

8/17/2005 5:55 PM JAMIE@CHEAPJOES WRITES:
WHAT???????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????
i have no clue what the problem is or what you are referring to. if you
want to fill me in you are more than welcome to. otherwise look for
your order soon.

thanx,
jamie at cheap joes

8/17/2005 6:01 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
whatever - oh and I found a mistake...

8/17/2005 6:01 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
that means ill be looking for my order - enjoy your buffalo wings.

8/17/2005 6:03 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
does whs care about that?(??????????????)

8/17/2005 6:03 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
my solid gold toilet seat does.

8/17/2005 6:18 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
Oh and when you figure out a way for me to NOT WASTE NEEDLESS HOURS OF MY LIFE SITTING AROUND WAITING ON FOOLS LIKE YOU TO QUIT SCREWING THINGS UP INTENTIONALLY ILL BE WAITING ON YOU TO RESTORE TO ME WHAT HASNT ALREADY SWIRLED DOWN THE DRAIN.

NOT A JOKE.

P.S. - I NEED MY CAN OPENERS

8/17/2005 6:18 PM H-BOMB WRITES:
GO SPIN A PLATE ON THAT ONE - RIGHT BACK TO CALIFORNIA

a little something

i have a little something to do while in kansas city. one of my few semi-planned events while on the road. the chance to meet a certain someone. someone many of you are already familiar with. for those who are not, let's get you caught up...

a reason for a Heavy Heart

finished nine stories at 12:05pm...

"the worst thing that being an artist could do to you would be that it would make you slightly unhappy constantly." - j.d. salinger de daumier-smith's blue period (one of the stories in nine stories)

those of you who know me probably sense this about me. i feel there's a sort of melancholy calmness about me. don't think it's something i suffer from exactly, although sometimes it feels that way. it clarifies, to some degree, why i chose the words "HeavyHearts" for the website.

cheering for a F.U.C.K.

chat with sarah a little. she works at muddy's. find out her cousin went to furman university. reminds me of a story, an old friend, piper (who i just heard from while in sioux falls and sioux city, for the first time in years), told me way back when. the furman mascot used to be the christian knights. so you can imagine the fun cheering for your furman university christian knights at a big game...

F - U - C - K!! woo!!! go team!! F.U.C.K., F.U.C.K., F.U.C.K.!!

a chuck jones' bathroom

back at muddy's for breakfast and bathroom. gonna make some mud of my own. i have to stop with the potty humor. it's killing me too. something about the color of the walls and floors reminds me of a cartoon. just very vivid and animated. i keep thinking pink panther or some old school chuck jones' cartoon. love chuck jones. always been one of my favorite artists. you throw any episode of tom and jerry or warner bros. cartoon on and i can immediately tell you whether it is one of chuck's. yes, i'm that good. it's all in the faces of his characters. mostly the eyes and eyebrows.

found some good chuck jones quotes (the last one's the best) -

"You do not 'suffer' if you decide ‘that’s the way it is’ rather than ‘why is it this way'?"

"The rules are simple. Take your work, but never yourself, seriously. Pour in the love and whatever skill you have, and it will come out."

"If you want a midget to look like a baby, don’t put a cigar in his mouth."

morning in kc

wake up on yet another street in yet another city. seems pretty safe here. kept hearing people jog by this morning though. don't know if they spotted me sleeping in the car or not. the place was recommended to me last nite by a guy who works at muddy's - yet another coffee shop.

starting mileage - 202123
exploring - kansas city, mo

for the memphis ladies

for anyone unfamiliar with lucero, they're one of those alt country type bands from memphis, tn. i know laura w., who's now in nyc, is quite, quite familiar with these boys. so, this night is dedicated to you. i love these guys too. if anyone is interested by the way, i'd recommend their self-titled album on madjack records. it's the best of their tear in your beer, drinking and driving kind of albums. the other ones are a little too produced by my standards, and i have yet to hear their most recent release. anyway, the show? right...

well, being that it's lucero's second nite on tour and as i heard ben say earlier - they all got shitfaced last nite in st. louis - they're not at their "musical" bests. they butchered quite a few songs; but it was all very entertaining. the live show is a lot more punk and rocking than the albums. though i wish ben exhibited more range in his voice live. seems to just yell most songs even the ones intended to be quiet. having said all that, i still thought it was an awesome show. the bar kind of sucked though. they ran out of beer at 10pm, before lucero even went on. what the fuck? i also managed to give myself a nasty head wound. stood up on a couch to take some pictures and smacked the top of my head into a hanging sign. well, a hanging car hood, to be exact. i think it was a firebird. my logo's better. anyway, got a nice bloody knot on my scalp now. great show though. love em. heard them say something about going to McCoy's afterwards. feeling to shitty to make an appearance there. find a place to crash instead.

decibully

alright back to the show. decibully opens. sound nothing like i thought they would. thought they were an indie math rock band. more country than math it turns out. very good. talk with aaron the drummer after their set. mention my friend chris and how his band, maple stave, played a show with them back in north carolina. he vaguely remembers the name. but we chat for a while. mention my life on tour. this is just their second nite on the road if i remember correctly. find out they're all wisconsin boys. look the part. beards, bandanas, and trucker hats. seem like cool guys.

pulling over in kc

brakes started acting funny while exploring downtown kansas city. just a little too weak for comfort. plus i've got some broken boot thing that rattles now and makes the steering a little odd. nothing too bad, right? pull over at a community park. retighten the lines and check brake fluid. doesn't seem to do much. just deal with weak brakes.

anthony king revisited

further down 31st st. the neighborhoods progressively worsen (its a sad truth that you can tell this by the ratio of african-americans /colored folks to white peeps). i find a grocery store. park the car. a little concerned, but not much, by all the people hanging out in their cars in the parking lot. then by the grocery store itself. there's bars on all the windows. 2 cops manning the entrance. is this a prison or a grocery store? get inside, walk around. notice i'm one of 2 white people in the entire store. the other one is an elderly guy with some funky walker contraption and humpback. grab an apple and get in line at one of the registers. a drunk lady stumbles by me. works her way up front and bumps into the non-opening entrance door; like a bird hitting a window. no luck. she bumps into the entrance door again. no luck. she bumps into the entrance door again. still no luck. a cop finally escorts her to the proper exit. lets her go with a warning. guy in front of me comments on the drunk lady. "she needs to lay off the drugs and alcohol. she can't be coming in here like that. she's gonna get herself killed..." says he used to be like that, but since he's been out of jail (for shooting some guy), he's laid off drugs and alcohol. the cashier then re-iterates his sentiments with a tale of her own imprisonment, release, and current freedom of drugs and alcohol. "i'm working on it myself," i say. they look at me weird. don't think they expected me to open my mouth.

kind of surprised myself that i wasn't scared. maybe i should've been? sure don't want to go back though. maybe i got some props that day for being the only white kid in there; and not a cop, at that. just some white boy buying an apple in a ghetto grocery store. must have some big brass balls, or no brains, or both. regardless, it was quite an experience hearing the two of them exchange tales of crimes, drugs, and jail. reminds me of my conversation with anthony king.

kansas city, mo

entering kansas city. find the venue where lucero is playing. el torreon on 31st st. park the car there for a sec. show doesn't start for a couple hours. figure i'll find out about tickets and parking and come back later. walk by ben, the singer of lucero, on my way into the venue. over hear him say how the band got shitfaced last nite in st. louis, "just like every nite in st. louis." get the info on the show and continue driving around town for awhile.

omaha again - meet ass squirt

pass thru omaha, ne again. reminds me of someone i forgot to mention. should warn you this is definitely obscene and graphic, but entertaining (at least to me). and for some reason i don't want to forget this.

if you recall - the nite of sept. 24. omaha, ne. chris' house. party going on. hanging out on the porch. this kid walks up to me, carrying some beers. already pretty shitfaced. slurring his words and swaying...

hey man, who are you? i'm jamie. oh cool, i'm... (forgot his name). you know what i gave up to come here? nope. shit. i could've fucked this girl. (sarcastically) oh, sorry to hear that. she likes to get fucked in the ass and punched in the face. (how do i meet these people?) uh... what?! yeah she's crazy. an ex. ran into her earlier. she wants me to come over. i had to come here though. why's that? girlfriend. oh. you want a beer? (if you shut up) no thanx. that's cool. she likes it in the butt. (trying to ignore him) right, i think you said that. take her from behind, hit her a few times, she squirts. (couldn't ignore that one) uh... what?! she's a squirter. you know she squirts. oh, right? ass squirt?... sounds like a winner. what are you doing HERE? shit, i don't know.

he leaves. i put a few drinks down in a hurry. much better. talk with becky for a while. run into him again later on the porch steps. more drunk now. greet him jovially -

ASS SQUIRT!! hey man what's up? so any luck there? naw, i didn't go. shit. sorry to hear it.

we get lost in the crowd for a while. bump into each other again. i greet again -

ASS SQUIRT!!

pat him on the shoulder. lose him in the crowd once more. find him later. greet again -

ASS SQUIRT!! (kind of angry) dude, why are you calling me that?! she squirted out of her pussy, not her ass. oh?

i smile and nod. then continue -

ASS SQUIRT!!

he walks away.

on the road

haven't taken an extensive drive for a while; relatively speaking. this is nice. i'm exhausted, but it doesn't stop me from singing / yelling songs at the top of my lungs. start to pass thru some towns i've seen earlier in my adventures...

sewer city's for the birds

hit the road. nothing keeping me here. we'll try kansas city. here's my only picture of sioux city, ia. a bridge. nothing exciting. if you could photograph odors though this would be a magnificent rainbow of puke greens, piss yellows, and doodoo browns.

questions of home

feeling ill. the town's odor isn't helping. find the morningside college to do a few updates. nose won't stop running. keep wiping it on the back of my hand. sniff sniff drip wipe cough sniff sniff drip wipe cough. endless cycle. check the dates of a few shows happening in the general vicinity (general vicinity being anywhere in or around iowa, colorado, or missouri; give or take another state or two). hope to find some direction. don't know where the hell to go from here? find out lucero is playing in kansas city tonite. shit, tonite? it's like a 5 or 6 hour drive.

ask the girl sitting next to me for the time. she looks at me and points to a clock on the wall right in front of me. one o' clock. "is there something wrong with you?" huh? "are you sick?" yes, yes, sorry just a cold. "well, you should go home?..."

a pause. a blank expression. i don't know how to answer.

home?...

yes. i will soon...

rotten egg sunrise

morning comes. still smells. no chance of it all being a bad-odored dream. started reading nine stories by j.d. salinger at the truckstop. i always forget how much i love salinger, until i get about 3 pages into one of his books. his characters and dialogue are without equal.

checking out sewer city today and then likely heading south again. or not. we'll see...

starting mileage - 201800
exploring - sioux city, ia

dirty south

had enough. split sioux falls around 9:30pm. decide to drive south to sewer city!! rather than mt. rushmore (still don't know if i made the right choice there).

the kids were right. this town smells like a used porta-potty after a long, hot, summer day. too tired to drive further. found the sioux harbor truck stop. showers cost $6. decide to go thru with it even though it's a little pricy by my standards. take my time though. an hour and a half to be exact. don't get many chances to stand around naked these days. enjoying it while i can, even if i do have to pay for it. groom some. then shit, shower, and not shave again. keeping the beard for security reasons.

red bud?

drive back downtown. find a restaurant to relax in for a little bit - the riverwalk. the place is dead. sit at the bar and get a beer. the guy working looks like a 16yr old peter gallagher. those eyebrows! talk to him and his friend, also seated at the bar, who looks like the young spencer moody in my head. find out they're both fresh out of high school. just wee lads. ask them about the area some. mention i'm thinking of heading either to mt. rushmore (4 hours west) or down south to sioux city, or "sewer" city, as they call it - thanx to the town's noticeable odor. ask if they know of a decent place to get a beer or two with some kids my age. they recommend pompenox? head over there. looks like a trucker's bar. but every place here does, or is? go inside. sit at the bar. notice jagermeister bottles, posters, and banners everywhere. guess it's the drink of choice in all of the dakotas, not just fargo? get myself a jager drink. the two ladies sitting next to me are S-C-A-R-Y!! like 35 but trying to look 20. way too many cigarettes. way too many dye-jobs. talking all valley girl style (in south dakota?) about some guy who was an asshole, and a pending lawsuit and "like oh, my god!" one of them orders a drink - a bud light with... tomato juice?? what the fuck? ask the bartender what the hell that is? a red bud, i think is what he said. imagine it tastes like a 50-50 mix of bloody mary and piss.

private party

bust in on some party before i leave falls park. there's this restaurant / dining area that overlooks the falls. notice a bunch of people going in and out; drinking and eating. figure i might as well make an appearance. everyone's waiting for me. walk up to the front doors - "closed for private reception." yeah, whatever? go inside. about 100 exec-type men and women are drinking wine and mingling. all dressed up. everyone wearing name tags - "hello i'm (so and so...)" then there's me. lookin pretty un-exec. dirty boy. pale and sick. scruffy beard. messy hair. jeans. grey hoodie. no name tag. sticking out like a sore thumb here. make a b-line to the bathroom. wash my face. try to flatten my hair a little. ok, let's go back out... alright, there's the food. let me just squeeze between these overweight business men. grab some carrots, celery, maybe some of that pink stuff? ok, there's the wine. i'll just pirouette between these couples talking about that shitty landscape painting on the wall. ok, going red tonite. let's dart out to the balcony. get some fresh air. phwew! sit down. look out onto the falls. everyone who walks by gives me the "who the hell is that guy?"-look. just chewing on some celery, folks! drinking some wine. staring at the river. please, fuck off. see one guy there my age. bearded. messy hair. looks familiar. he's dressed casual but nice and not all business-like. talking with some lady about his job or something. keeps looking at me like he knows me somehow too. like we're looking at our own reflections, or something. except he's making me look damn good right now and i'm making him look like shit.

falls park revisited

back at falls park as it starts to get dark.

to the mall and back again

went to the empire mall. apparently the mall gets more visitor's than south dakota's supposed claim to fame - mt. rushmore (which i'm thinking of going to). the mall is, of course, boring. checked it out for a few minutes and quickly went back to falls park.

girls and their shitzus

went back to falls park again after church. relaxed. listened to some high school girls talk about their shitzus. ooh! i just love my shitzu. oh my god! my shitzu is so cute. part of me wanted to chime in and ruin their fantasy. tell them about the time in middle school when my friend gary's shitzu attacked me. it looked like gizmo and i always thought it was cute too. until one day... i leaned down to to pet it hello and it jumped into the air and latched onto my face (very similar to the scene in there's something about mary). the dog just dangled in the air on my cheek for a few seconds, until i ripped it off and threw it across the room.

deathcab goes to church

go to church. it's either that or falls park again. church first. this is st. joseph cathedral. quite massive as you can tell. the deathcab looks like a tiny matchbox car in relation. it stands on the peak of a large hill that overlooks the rest of sioux falls. so when you're downtown - you can see the church above and it's two giant pillars. after dark, the church's lights illuminate the city's nite sky.

no luck, once again

went back to the university of sioux falls to follow thru on my master plan. to tell everyone there - YOU'RE GOING TO HELL TOO!! well, for some reason every computer now has a password security lock. they didn't last nite when i was here. but now they do? not even 24 hrs later. must have given myself away somehow last nite. can't get anything productive done in this town. no leg humping. no messing with the christian computers. what the hell am i supposed to do?

pig crossing

started walking around downtown. came across this random warthog. tried to stay out of it's way.

something to lighten the mood

i did manage to figure out the most genuis / devilish thing to do - EVER. gonna go back to the christian university and change the desktop backgrounds of all their computers to this - the deathcab logo. and add something witty like - YOU'RE GOING TO HELL TOO!! that'll make me feel better.

lunch

grabbed some lunch at phillip's avenue diner in downtown sioux falls. thought the tomato florentine soup of the day might do my cold some good. it did. and it tasted really really good. wish i had gotten another bowl. tried to read a book while i was there. but my eyes were too tired. and it was too bright out. and the people walking by were of more interest to me.

missing moses

i checked the campus out extensively. moses is nowhere to be found. no one here knows anything about him either. it was a lie. maybe he parted the red sea and did some other miracle-type thingamajew but i don't think he ever made it to south dakota. this leg humping thing is proving more difficult than expected. maybe i should try humping something else?

jamie 3:16

driving around. there's casinos everywhere here. 2 per mile it seems. one on each side of the street. no time for gambling though; been trying to find a certain someone??...

i found out last nite at the truck stop, that there is a statue of moses in this town. it's somewhere on the campus of augustana college. how awesome would it be to hump the leg of moses? they'd probably give me my own chapter in the new new testament if i do it.

JAMIE 3:16 - "For Jamie so loved Moses, that he humped one of his begotten Legs, that whosoever believeth in Jamie should..."

bathroom etiquette

stop off at a lewis drug store to shop and mail a few things (there's a post office inside). lock myself in the bathroom for a while afterwards. drop a bomb. finish. stand up. buckle my pants. flush the toilet. (a lady's voice) "thank you for your business." that's odd. did i just hear that? did someone just thank me for my business? i flush again. "thank you for your business." one more time. "thank you for your business." scratch my head. walk out smiling - "your welcome!"

blah blah morning

wake up feeling crappier still. snotty and feverish and sweaty. gonna have some coffee here, organize myself, then go hump the leg of moses.

what? i didn't say anything.

starting mileage - 201668
exploring - sioux falls, sd

nighty nighty at another truck stop

made it out of the university alive. thought about going back to jellystone park and camping for the nite but it's kind of expensive. found a flying j truck stop to sleep at instead; after a long long long long search. feeling real shitty. and there's no showers here. awesome. going to bed.

an imposter in christ's domain

after falls park, i found the university of sioux falls library to do some updates. work for about an hour before i notice the background image on my computer screen - some kids, some buildings, and the words - JOIN A GOD LOVING NEIGHBORHOOD. wha? i scrunch up my face and lean in closer. does that say what i think it says? what an odd background to have on your computer? then i look around me at all the other computers in the room. they all have the same background. oh shit! i think i'm in a... go to the university of sioux falls website. sure enough - a christian university. i'm in trouble...

this guy was thinking the same thing too

statue in front of the lighthouse at falls park.

living on the edge

here's your classic postcard-style photograph of falls park. and a picture of me contemplating jumping into the river - either to end it all, or to bathe dangerously.

greetings friends from the sewers of sioux falls, sd

peekaboo! i'm playing in the old sewer systems at falls park. i think this where all the homeless junkies and murderers of south dakota come to play. it's got a nice roomy dungeon; multiple sewage pipe facilities for an occassional disposing of a dead body or two - just a nice overall vibe about the place. i'm not quite the murdering homeless junkie type - though i am starting to look like one; but it is fun for me here too. you'd think by now though, that i'd have come across a severed body part, or a used hypodermic needle or two, floating in the mud. no such luck. i'm keeping my eyes open though. actually there's not much trash here at all at falls park. there's a little bit of sewage dumpage in the river but nothing too bad. and there's no bad odors either. except for the ones coming from me.

falls park - soiux falls, sd

maybe come back for yogi. keep driving. come across falls park - the main attraction, and rightly so, of sioux falls, sd. it's beautiful. the big sioux river flows thru the area. stayed here over an hour just resting and taking it all in. feeling sicker but it did some good to just listen to the water flow and feel the mist in the air.

bear legs

decide to head to sioux falls, sd for the nite. surprised to pass jellystone park on the way into town. yogi bear, the ranger, boo boo. how exciting?... or not. but wait. you see what i see? a giant yogi bear statue! finally, a leg to hump! missed my opportunity in alexandria, mn. could redeem/relieve myself on yogi?

god and the devil in garretson

where there's satan, there's church. didn't take long to find this one. smack dab in the middle of garretson. another in my deathcab goes to church photo series.

the secret life of jesse james

so hell is closed today, what else does garretson offer? oohh... the jesse james opera house! didn't know ol' jesse was into that sort of thing - singing, prancing, thespianism. apparently, all the robbing / raping / killing was just a facade. it's good that he finally came out of the closet... even if it was post-mortem.

fuck satan

turns out devil's gulch is actually a park in the tiny tiny town of garretson, sd. the park is closed. no deathcab in devil's gulch after all. fuck satan. i didn't want to see his gulch anyway. kind of weird though, i thought the devil was on my side. after all, he is the one telling me what to do. you'd think after everything i've done for him, he'd at least have left me a key somewhere. ain't busting the doors down to get into hell.

deathcab in the devil's gulch

who woulda thunk such a cool sounding place exists... in south dakota? noticed it on the map as soon as i crossed the state line. the deathcab in devil's gulch - hell yeah! i'm there!

worthington, mn

smells like horse shit. leaving quickly...

old albert lea

left minneapolis. passed thru albert lea, mn for some fuelage and foodage. found the cheapest gas yet at a hy-vee gas/grocery store. $2.28 a gallon. cheap gas though something is really weird about this town - everyone, absolutely e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e, is O-L-D. and not like there's no people my age; there's no one here under 55!! this must be where all minnesotans come to die. went in the grocery store. hanging in each aisle is a banner commemorating the years of service of each employee. look, there's bob who has worked here 10 years. phyllis 15. barbara 21. edna 25. herbert 27...

27 YEARS!! WORKING AT A HY-VEE GROCERY STORE!! I'M NOT EVEN THAT OLD YET!! there must be absolutely no job market here. either that or the entire town of albert lea is the hy-vee.

sketch of the day

i'm not even gonna to try to analyze that dream. i quickly drew this upon waking instead - the young spencer moody in my head.

cry for your dick

dreamland continued - young spencer is telling a joke - "... it was as clear as..." he forgets the ending. "...his dick?!" say hello to his dick for me. young spencer looks at me. blank expression. blink... blink... young spencer breaks into song...

"so, i said cry, cry, cry for your DICK!... so, i said cry, cry, cry for your DICK!..."

what the fuck?!... rolling on the floor in hysterics... eyes tearing with laughter...

i hear a noise.

"so, i said cry, cry, cry for your..." smiling.

"so, i said cry, cry, cry for your..." drooling.

the noise again.

i wake up. eyes staring at the bedroom door. the doorknob turns. a startled blank expression. blink... blink... i await my visitor... no one enters. doorknob turns again... "HELLO?!" no answer. "HELLO?!" still no answer. doorknob turns again. rush up out of bed. wipe the drool from the corner of my mouth. throw the door open...

no one.

look down. one of lindsay's cats is staring up at me; pawing at a string tied to the doorknob.

departing - minneapolis
starting mileage - 201341
heading - westward

post-crepe nap

lying in bed... looking out the bedroom window. drifting in and out of sleep... snuggled tight to the warm body next to me... she wraps her leg around my waist... eyes open in unison... hello, good morning... eyes close...

meet lindsay... as she's walking out the door

wake up at 7am to say goodbye to lindsay. we share some breakfast crepes before she's off to work. mmm.... crepe-a-licious!! thanx lindsay! i'm splitting town today (don't know where to yet) so this is the last i'll see of her; for now (she might be moving to nyc in november. if she does i'll see her when i visit scott and jessica). i thank her again for everything. and wish we could've hung out more. grateful for the time we did share though. snap this picture of her as she's walking out the door. she wasn't exactly thrilled. convinced her scott and jessica would probably like to have a picture of her though. and so did i. she gave in.

riddle me this

after all that, i go back to lindsay's and rest for a couple hours. she comes home around 9:30pm from work and rehearsal (theatre). we go out for a couple beers at herkimer. get some really good artichoke dip. talk, kind of out of joint, about life and love and boys and girls and all that. i have to admit i'm pretty out of it. don't know what kind of impression i'm making these days? still feeling sick and mentally cuckoo. i pose her a question though; a question that's been on my mind the last few days (though i didn't phrase it nearly this well) -

"you never know what's going to happen - how things are going to unfold, or when the simplest things are suddenly going to take on demented proportions. take me, for example. my whole life turned upside down when... " - anna gavaldi i wish someone were waiting for me somewhere

we exchange our answers without revealing too much. it's pretty personal, i guess?


i think the answer changes constantly. life is flux. nothing seems to remain constant for long. as of today though, right now - i know how i would complete the statement.

a view of the city

from the skyline walkway leading to and from the sculpture garden.

sketch of the day

inspired by my benching.

still waiting for a neighbor

a bit weary from all the sights - i took a breather on one of the park benches. continuing my series of me on a random bench self-portraits. still waiting for 'someone' to sit down next to me.

oh yeah and...

a man frozen in kryptonite.

oh yeah and...

a giant fish too; inside a greenhouse in the park.

sculpture garden

outside the walker center is a huge park and sculpture garden. walked around for a long time. found a giant cherry, a tractor, a bunny on a bell... you know, things you expect to see in a sculpture garden.

rivington arms

checked out the walker center bookstore before leaving. found a neat publication called me magazine (can't find the website). the issue is an introduction to melissa bent and mirabelle marden - the two women who started and run the nyc art gallery - rivington arms; told thru the perspective of their friends. i like the idea. though the questions and answers are a bit dry. what interests me most is the layout of the magazine - the table of contents in particular. all the sections are titled meet so and so... meet peter... for example. reminded me of my meet anthony king, meet eva, and so forth... yeah, so a nice little magazine. might try to check out rivington arms when i'm in nyc again.

black and white and jamie

another in my series of bathroom self-portraits. didn't realize it at the time but i blend in with the decor pretty well. everything in the room is black and white. that's me too - minus my jeans, i guess. could've taken them off and vanished from sight. no one would've known i was in there. i kept my pants on though and exited shortly after taking this picture. no need to be sticking around bathroom stalls too long.

a tiny work of art

what i was most enamored with, is this tiny work of art - the bathroom stall door lock. can't say i've ever seen one quite like it. and i've seen a lot these days. just think it's cool. makes me feel like i'm steering a pirate ship or opening a bank vault, when i'm just locking myself in a bathroom stall for a poop. if only i brought my screwdriver... this sucker would be mine. i'd install it on the deathcab, somewhere? or save it for when i have a bathroom stall of my own. one day, one day...

pistoletto's

there were a bunch of other well-known artists as well. lichtenstein, rauschenberg, warhol, etc... check this out if you want to see the entire walker collection.

one piece that caught my eye is michelangelo pistoletto's - three girls on a balcony. from across the room, i thought i was looking at a damien hirst piece. 3 girls suspended in glass. as i got closer i realized it's just a painting on mirror. but i still like it. seeing your own warped reflection in the piece is pretty cool.

was also attracted to some of the works by sigmar polke, kara walker, and paul mccarthy.

chucky

managed to check out half the exhibit before getting busted for not paying admission. it was really quite accidental. but they didn't see it that way. so i wandered my way back to the front desk and paid to see the rest of the show.

the chuck close stuff is impressive yet also a little too repetitive for me. self-portrait after self-portait after self-portrait... this is probably his most recognizable piece. it's really ginormous. you can see every detail. i was entranced by his nose hairs.

another parking garage fiasco

next on the agenda - chuck close at the walker center. get directions. ask about parking. there's a public parking garage next door to the museum. get there. pull up to the garage. the sign says OPEN. but the doors are shut. what the fuck? so, i reverse out of there. drive in circles trying to find a parking spot. follow some public parking signs but they lead me to a reserved parking lot. hmm...i'm confused. park in space #8 regardless. run inside the walker center to see if it's alright to park there. nope. for employees only. ask about the public garage being closed. they say i just have to pull right up to the door and it opens automatically. shit. fucking minneapolis parking garages. makes no sense. run back to the car. employee #8 has me blocked in with his SUV. shit. run inside frantically. just want my car. just want my car. an employee is on the phone with the tow truck co. great! sees me. asks if i'm the guy in #8. yes, yes. just want my car. just want my car. i apologize profusely. explain about the screwy parking garage, the public parking signs, i'm not from here... blah blah blah. employee #8 takes about 10 minutes to show up. then he follows me to my car. moves his SUV out of the way. i get the hell out of there. go back to the parking garage. pull up to the doors; practically touching them. waiting...

ok... now what??...

oh, wait...

there they go. the stupid doors open.

american swedish nazi institute

alright, it's swede time!! let's hit up the american swedish institute! ok, yeah i know this looks like something straight out of disneyworld. well, it kind of is. but imagine disneyworld without all the obnoxious little kids. sounds great don't it? okay well also imagine it without any of those god-awful rides, or those silly games, or the people dressed up as mickey or minnie or goofy. still sound great? yeah, well the american swedish institute is, in fact, pretty dull (much like the john deere factory. though i wasn't forced to stick around here for an hour and a half against my will. h-hum!! jill) and absolutely nothing like disneyworld. so, forget i brought it up.

there are some pretty neat artifacts. and i really wanted to buy some of the swedish chocolates and candies, but i don't want to become some poor homeless fat fatty. the coolest thing by far is their collection of swedish handcarved / whittled wooden figurines. some really awesome cartoony looking people. liked it a lot. but most everything else?... yawn.

i did get a kick out of pooping in a mansion though; or whatever this giant building is. made me feel like royalty -

"oh look, i've just shat. my god it's beautiful. i must be a god or some sort of gold-shatting machine. darling you must look at this. have you ever shat anything so beautiful in your life? it's almost as magnificent as our collection of nazi memorabilia. i just want to scoop it right up in my rich white hands and rub it all over my face. ladies first, of course, my dear. after all, i am a fine outstanding courteous gentleman..."

music for the road

from bob's we walk a couple blocks and trip over a music store. shweet!! treehouse records. a pretty good indie music store. pleasantly surprised with their selection. got the new constantines - tournament of hearts (one of my favorite bands. hope to see them at some point on the road) and the new minus story - no rest for ghosts. both are really really good. check em out.

love, admiration, and...

i'll make this short and sweet. finished the myth of sisyphus while drinking coffee at bob's. just wanted to share some quotes with you. that's it. think about it -

"the two thirsts one cannot long neglect without drying up - i mean loving and admiring. for there is merely bad luck in not being loved; there is misfortune in not loving." - albert camus the myth of sisyphus

"love thy neighbor. get y'r scrogg on." - jamie carroll the mist of sissyphithususahus

bob's

to start our day - let's get lost and somehow wind up at the coffee shop lindsay recommended last nite - bob's java hut. very cool little place. they have these funky table lamps and a garage door that serves as the main front window. it's pretty comfortable and sunny out today, so the garage door is up. there is also a nice private bathroom here where i can re-apply my make-up if necessary.

echoes of the House of Zencico

alright, we're done with the self-analyzing b.s. for now! hurray!! thank god!! geez, all i ever hear is jamie this and jamie that. woe is jamie. poo-poo for jamie!! sorry that it's taken this long, kids. got places to go; people to do! now, let's get started! finally gonna explore downtown minneapolis. don't care if the brakes go out again, or if my car dies in the process. i'll drag it along with me. gonna see some swedes and some chuck close.

just let me do my hair and make-up and we'll be on our way...


starting mileage - someone forgot to write it down again. maybe if that someone wasn't wasting his time thinking about all the shit that goes thru his head, we'd know how many miles are on his car. but nooo!!

exploring- minneapolis

analyzing dreams

no, it wasn't a sex dream. i know those pretty well - usually wake up with a tent. not this time. it was something else...

a quick analysis - i'm needing the comfort of a friend. someone i am familiar with. someone who is familiar with me. lindsay is in some ways - she knows my best friends. i'm feeling more and more, i need a shoulder to lay my head on.

the road is wearing on me...

the bedroom window

lying in bed... looking out the bedroom window. drifting in and out of sleep... snuggled tight to the warm body next to me. my head resting peacefully on her bare chest. i look up to meet her face... linds... i wake up.

wuh? uh... that was weird. i think i was dreaming of lindsay?

nc ties

meet up with lindsay and peter at the blue moon cafe. share a pleasant introduction and conversation (if i do say so myself). they're both really open and friendly. feels like i'm with old friends of my own; being all chummy and playful and joking around. peter moved to "murder-apolis" from durham, nc. and lindsay used to live in wilmington,nc - so we all have NC ties. ask lindsay if she's still in school. nope. "where did you go to college?" macalister. "is it an all-girls school?" peter interrupts and answers by saying he goes there. the wise-ass i am, asks lindsay again - "so it is an all-girls school then?" peter punches me in the arm. we laugh. ho, ho, ho!! good times. eventually say goodnight to peter, he has some studying to do. follow lindsay back to her place. her roommate, emily, is house-sitting for the week. so i'm staying in her room. keeping her bed warm. lindsay has a bunch of work to do and has to get up early for the j-o-b. so, we chat for just a little bit and i mess with her two cats. then i get a shower in and call it a nite.

damage done

as soon as i finish writing the note, lindsay calls. asks if i want to meet her and her friend, peter at this coffee shop - blue moon, in minneapolis. get directions. tell her i'll be there shortly. excited now about meeting lindsay - haven't met anyone who knows me, or my friends, in a long time. right, 25 days now to be exact. think it'll be good for me.

finish my coffee. gather my things. walk over to amanda on my way out; note in hand. she's behind the counter, back turned to me. "hey amanda?" she doesn't hear me. "amanda?" she turns around. "hey." "hello, this is for you." i give her the note. "check it out sometime when you get the chance." "what is it?" she starts reading. "it's a website i'm working on. i think you'll appreciate it." "oh, thank you so much! i will." she gives me a really big smile. i can feel my heart melting. i give a shy smile back as i exit - stage left. actually, stage right. get in the car and drive off to minneapolis; inspired and reinvigorated having found a purpose for coming here.

it really is amazing how things work out. i hope that amanda is somehow also inspired, or at least entertained, by what i've done and am doing. and hopefully, she won't be offended by all the talk of her T & A.

a letter to a friend

continue reading. the sound of her voice in the background. half hour or so goes by. still smiling to myself. enjoying her conversation. i like the way she talks and how animated she is. her boyfriend calls. can hear her teasing him about something. giving him a hard time. i think, about the possibilty of being pregnant, though she knows she's not. just making him worry.

conversation changes. overhear her say, "my problem is i think too much." "yeah, me too," i whisper. "i just want to move to europe and write a book..."

then it hits me. those words... she was likely half-joking when she said it; but the possibility of her not following thru with her dream, struck me. i scribble down a a note in my journal -

hey amanda,

i thought you might appreciate this. it's along the same lines as moving to europe and writing a book - www.heavyhearts.org. i don't know the exact day, but look about 2 weeks ago in the archives under the heading - a diamond in a pile of shit and the posts that follow. i think it'll make you smile.

later,
jamie

and then

about an hour goes by. i think i hear one of the waitresses mention amanda's name. figure my ears are playing tricks on me. continue reading...

look up from my book a few minutes later. sip my coffee. see a girl leaning down behind the counter trying to get something - a napkin, or some dishes. she looks up. we lock eyes for a split second... amanda. pretty sure she doesn't recognize me. just smile to myself and continue reading; comforted by her presence.

to a (T & A ) - A

came across this passage at the diner. describes me to a T...

"...what he wants is an occupation, a home, the life of a healthy, normal man. he can't stand his madness any longer. he wants to be reasonable. he wants to cast off the peculiar curse that makes him a stranger to the village." - albert camus the myth of sisyphus

back at the T & A

left a message on lindsay's voicemail. going back to the T & A truckstop. don't know what else to do at this point? figure i'll spend another nite there and take the car to alwin's in the morning; depending on what lindsay is up to.

get to the truck stop. sit at the counter in the diner. no sign of amanda. not that it would make a difference at this point. order a coffee. continue where i left off in the myth of sisyphus by albert camus. reading. sipping on my coffee.

18 wheels

"life is what happens while you are busy making other plans." - john lennon

early evening. sitting in the car in the parking lot of a grocery store. call scott and jessica from boone. catch up. turns out one of jessica's best friends, lindsay, happens to live in minneapolis. says if i want to hang out or need a place to crash, give her a call. get off the phone with them. sit in the car a little while longer. munch on a banana. one of those life questions hits me upside the head. blindsided by an 18 wheeler of the mind (this has been happening more and more as of late - questions, and answers, coming around and knocking me silly) -

is anything good in life planned? or maybe i should (or should not) rephrase that as - are the best things in life planned?

guess i was thinking of frania and her son, avery. assuming he was "an accident." but thinking how much happiness he must bring. and the baby from the diner last nite. i asked the mom (one of the waitresses working) if the pregnancy was planned. she smiled "no." guess that started me thinking... you can't plan happiness or love.

called back scott and posed the question to him. asked him to think about it.

hudson, wi (for those that missed it the first time)

hudson, wi. it's actually not that bad. downtown is pretty nice. and just off the main strip is a huge hill that overlooks some of the beautiful lakes in the area. while wandering i found another car place, alwin's towing, that can look at the car tomorrow. though i still don't know if i'll go thru with it. so fucking expensive. found the library too. was pleasantly surprised to find a used book section. got nine stories by j.d. salinger and the immoralist by andre gide for $.50 a piece. both are really old editions and have really cool covers.

car update

the brakes started tightening while i was driving around hudson trying to find the library. i loosened the brake line a little without re-tightening it this time. hopefully, it'll keep the brakes from locking up while not weakening my braking ability too much. might be best to get the car looked at while i'm here.

same old story though. turned down by 2 places because of the condition of the car. and all the others can't look at it for a few days. every place in this town wants $75 - $95 an hour for labor and charge half that just to look at the car. fuck me! $50-$60 back in boone. made an appointment though for wednesday with one place. don't know if i'll follow thru... don't know if i want to be in hudson, wi that long...

a word of advice

never try to put your contacts in while sitting on the shitter at a truckstop; or anywhere else for that matter. trust me on this. i had to go deep sea mud diving to fish out my right contact and case. not fun.

more questions of the everyday

what am i doing? collecting experiences? for what? for bragging rights? to whom? what am i doing?

been thinking about that a lot lately. and wondering whether all of this is fruitless? i remember talking to kelly in st. louis about the trip i was embarking on - "you know you're not going to find anything out there..." he said. i told him i knew that. and i do.

i found a quote this morning in regards to the thoughts i've been debating. it's inspiring, but in a lot of ways, it makes me want to stop what i'm doing. to stop all i've started and just live my life, without saying a word about it.

"for the mistake is thinking that the quantity of experiences depends on the circumstances of our life when it depends solely on us. to two men living the same number of years, the world always provides the same sum of experiences. it is up to us to be conscious of them. being aware of one's life, one's revolt, one's freedom, and to the maximum, is living, and to the maximum."- albert camus the myth of sisyphus

thoughts unchanged

i fell asleep shortly after that realization; though i felt no better upon waking. still confused and lost as ever. don't think those feelings are going away anytime soon. continuing to feel sicker. a slight fever and headache have now entered the fray.

starting mileage - 201258
exploring - hudson, wi and then off to minneapolis; or so i hope

when you're a stranger

and then it hit me... that's exactly why i am here - because i have met her once before.

think of all the people you encounter in your day - not to mention your friends, family, and co-workers. but think of the clerk in the gas station; the waitress who brought your food; the people you pass on the street or in the aisles of the grocery store... now imagine - you don't recognize a single one of them. you've never seen these people before in your life. everyone is a stranger to you. and when you wake up tomorrow, you will continue to be a stranger to everyone else.

24 days of this. it's wearing on me. i need some sense of familiarity; of permanence - no matter how slight. i need to see a familiar face. it's the same reason i went back to columbia,mo hoping to run into amy again. it's the same reason i wanted to hang out with luke again in fargo. it's the same reason i am here...

unfortunately, amanda is not.

the conversation went nowhere

unfortunately, of course, that conversation never took place. amanda isn't working. and i'm lying in the fetal position in the back of my car in the T & A parking lot.

why did i come all the way here to see her? someone i've met only once before...

a slightly different version

i couldn't help but imagine myself as the guy in that story. unshaven as i am. passing new, unfamiliar ladies as often as i am - exchanging smiles and glances. amanda - one of them. came up with a slightly different version of events though in regards to her -

i walk into the diner. sit down at the counter. she walks by and smiles, asking if i would like a menu. "just a cup of coffee please." i flash my big goofy smile when she returns with my coffee. "would you like to go out after you get off work tonite. maybe for a walk or a drink somewhere? my treat. i've been driving a lot and could use the company. and a conversation outside of my own head could do me good."

"well, give me one good reason why i should?" (or another, in this case) she asks.

"well, i came here, two weeks ago, all the way from north carolina to see you; though i didn't know that at the time. today, i've come all the way from north dakota... knowing... it was to see you."

pleasantly surprised with my answer. she says, "yes."

pass her by

--she kicks a small pebble with the tip of her shoe; watching it skip ahead 4 sidewalk tiles before finally resting. she follows after it readying to kick again, but notices a gentleman approaching. they exchange a glance and smile to each other in passing. she continues to walk as if nothing happened. she's already forgotten about her pebble though. her thoughts are now concentrated on the person who just entered and exited her life...

he stops for a second; looking back at her as she walks further and further away. he runs after her...

"would you like to have dinner with me tonite?" she looks at him surprised. "i was just thinking, it would be a shame - the two of us passing each other on the street like this. smiling at one another. not even stopping. just to go off to our own separate worlds again..."

"i can't just go out with every guy i smile at," she thinks to herself. "give me one good reason why i should?"

"that's a tough one," he says while scratching his head. she's entertained by his struggle for an answer.

he takes her hand and places it on his cheek; brushing the side of his scruffy unshaven face..."it'll give me a good reason to shave, and i think i look a lot better with a clean face."

pleasantly surprised with his answer, she says, "yes."

--inspired by and inaccurately recalled from i wish someone were waiting for me somewhere by anna gavalda

questions i ask everyday

say goodnite to the waitresses and get in the back of the deathcab. exhausted. lay on my side in a fetal position. looking at my piles of mismatched dirty and clean clothes that are now my pillows and blankets. feeling sick, confused, lost and lonely...

what am i doing? what the hell am i doing? why am i here?

mohawk dreams

finally arrive at the T & A in hudson, wi. sit down for a cup of coffee. no amanda. i'm a bit disheartened. chat with the other waitresses working. one has a 3 month old baby on her lap. cute black girl. big googly eyes. pouty lips. drooling like crazy. a poof of hair going down the middle of the top of her head - mohawk for baby. mmm... mohawk. i had mohawk dreams before i left on the road trip. could still happen?...

needing some T & A

my time in the new dimension was short. been there. done that. so, back in downtown minneapolis; not sticking around here either though - don't want to get lost in a parking garage again. heading non-stop, straight ahead, to amanda and her T & A... (truck stop).

let's do the time warp again

minneapolis again. are you ready?... here we go!!

breaking the sound barrier... entering a strange new dimension... let's hope the lorne greene channel doesn't exist here...

another checkup

stopped at the 30 mile mark. no problems. didn't stop again until just east of st. cloud, mn. about 100 miles or so. still no problems. loosened and re-tightened the lines again; just in case.

check up

pulled over after 30 miles. no problems. just wanted to check the brake lines. looking good. loosened and re-tightened just in case. probably pull over again after another 30 miles.

more of the 10,000 lakes in minnesota

taking hwy 10E thru detroit lakes, mn and some other rinky-dink towns. really beautiful out here. it's like you're looking out onto the ocean over and over again; but it's just giant lake after giant lake.

test drive

test driving the car before i try to go anywhere too far from fargo. manage to get about 6 miles before the lines start tightening again. pull over. loosen and re-tighten. drive into fargo and out again. manage to get about 20 miles this time. 20 miles - good enough for me! heading west! i mean east?...

deja vu

the sound of a passing train wakes me- god, i have to piss! shit where am i? ughh... the car. great northern parking lot. right, right, i remember. no, wait! this is the target parking lot. shit. right in front of train tracks again though. fuck i have to piss!! not using the water jug method again... i'll hold it in until target opens... oh look! target's open... see ya.

attempting to leave - moorhead city
starting mileage - 200947
goal - T & A!! (the truck stop in hudson, wi - want to see amanda again)