how to get to Chicago while trying very hard

I made it to Chicago. It is a wonderful city. I am using someone else's computer, so no pictures or anything fun. Here is a summary of my trip pulled from myspace bulletins I was able to post while on the road. My shitty phone could access myspace, but not blogger. Strange. Enjoy. (I was going to clean up the spelling and everything, but this is more exciting.)

Dec 26, 2007 11:37 PM - i'm in bosie!
it is 1230 bosie time and i am sitting in a bus terminal. Bosie doesn't seem to be very awesome, but at least i'm not one of the poor folks waiting. there is no room on our bus and greyhound apparently likes to over sell. i don't know if it's the awesome lighting or what, but the world looks sad here. the buses are running about two hours behind, so i'll probably miss my transfer in denver tomorrow at 6pm. if you live there send me your number, i might need someone to drink with.

Dec 27, 2007 7:20 AM - salt lake city - homeless lady on the bus!
Someone gave a homeless lady a ticket, maybe. She has too much stuff to be homeless, so i think she just talks outloud a lot! We're supposed to be out of here at 730, and i think its 8 right now. There has been rumours about wyoming being fucked by snow, so we might be here a while. Greyhound is like the government, it doesn't tell you much, and he it does it's probably a lie. Anyone live here? I need a beer!

Dec 28, 2007 12:42 AM - and with that, the hero's journey changes suddenly
Apparently it snows in december. So much so that the entity known as greyhound has decided to send no busses east or north for at least 24 hours. From denver i still have 22 hours left on a bus. So instead of staying with the pigs in the sty and possibly missing the bears game sunday, i bought a plane ticket. Yup, the bus journey is over. It was better and worse than i had hoped. Expect a full recap when i can use a real keyboard and not my phone. I now must kill 5 hours in an airport. Easy!

Dec 28, 2007 9:19 AM - 36 HOURS, 3 TIME ZONES
i typed that and got that lip gloss song stuck in my head. strange. anyways, i'm in columbus ohio. they tried to land in chicago, but it was too awesome. so here i am. pretty much my life has turned into a holiday travel movie. the guy sitting next to me right now is big like john candy ;)

a very complete list of airports visited in 2007

in chronological order (repeats not shown)

• Burbank, CA
  
• Oakland, CA
  
• Seattle, WA
  
• Redmond, OR
  
• Eugene, OR
• San Francisco, CA
• Ontario, CA
• Tampa, FL
• Orlando, FL
• Los Angeles, CA
• Dallas, TX
  
• Salt Lake City, UT
• Denver, CO
• Columbus, OH
  
• Chicago, IL (Midway)

I think that is it. What a year for flying. Going to try to hit some new ones in 2008. Any suggestions?

pressed for time

As referenced in the title, I am pressed for time.

I'm on my way to sell my car, then to the airport, then to oregon.

When I get there I'll feel in all those holes of the last few weeks.

I love you.

a farewell to peppers

Oh peppers, how you made my days go by, how you filled my pockets, how you helped my middle class attempts at smashing the state. You made me drinking buddies and bowling friends. You brought people to sing with in karaoke bars. Dry-run-thru's of taxes were done at your bar. Surprise visits to lovers too. Peppers you were the backdrop to some of the best and worse days. To some spirited debates and colorful outbursts. You let me outlast more than I should, but I go before many others who should already be gone.

So here's to you peppers, to the people that you let me meet, the beliefs you reinforced, the money you allowed me to make, and the friends I will never forget, even though they have already started to forget me. Thank you for these folks - Whit, Tricia, Miska, Carey, Juan, Randy, Tommie, Kelly, Red, Louis, Harper, Wayne, Bryan, Anderson, Keisha, Sam, Heidi, Donna, Deanna, Ashley, All the hosts with their sexy teenage butts, Vicki, Gina, Kevin, everyone I ever drank with, everyone I ever made fun of, and everyone I will never miss.

Peppers, You hardly knew me.

a little request

I don't know who still reads this. I had a punk rock principles attack a few months ago and took off all the tracking information. "you don't blog for other people, you blog for yourself." I don't know how many visitors I get, I don't know where they come from, and I don't know where they go after. It's ok. The traffic and my quality of posts were both on a steady decline.

So to the few people who read this, I would like to ask a favor...

a mix.

I'm going to be spending two days on a bus to Chicago. I am talking a discman, because I am old school.

So if you could make me a mix and email it or post it or just send me the list of songs, that would be awesome.

And in return I'll promise not to die and I'll put more stuff up.

Deal?

Deal.

lancaster sends me off, without even trying

It finally happened. I have been going to these parties for years. There had been cross words thrown around, idle threats in passing cars leaving the scene, to maybe, or maybe not, mingle at another place or time, but tonight, it happened. I stood in a living room drinking a beer. I used to live at the house, and now it seems a lot longer than the two years it was. And a guy almost got beat up. He had pulled a knife before, or twice. And why not tonight? Who knows, but I'm glad he didn't. A friend was involved in the scene. It was a fucking shame. A cycle that doesn't seem to come close to ending. Not on nights like these, in these homes, in a town so dead, or dying.

And the Antelope Valley put on it's best clothes. It has been doing it all week. The people I served ribs to at Peppers. The girls I talked to at bars. The christmas lights that didn't burn as bright as before. All the kids who showed up at this house on a friday night. To drink free beer. To smoke others drugs. To start fights that shouldn't have happened. No one here walks away.

But I do.

things i would rather be doing then going to work

which is what I am doing.

bikes. music. fun.

dead to me - special professional

what i did last christmas

I spent part of the day drinking beer with bill and whit, then some gin. There's Christmas beginnings happening in the living room and I'm sitting in my room debating between whiskey and soda and whiskey and ice. The soundtrack is a collections of songs recorded in about 12 hours over one Saturday. We consumed a lot of drinks, some of us fell asleep early, and we all recorded an original and a Christmas cover. We put it on the internet. Marleigh was kind enough to do some art for it. If you aren't doing anything in the next few days, get a bottle of something sip-able and check out our efforts. A year removed, a lot of it is sad. Sorry, it is Christmas after all.It's a Wonderful Lie - A Drunken Bicycle Christmas - http://drunkbike.com/lie.zip

things are falling into place

As of today, december 6th, at 2:06, I have a plane ticket to oregon, a bus ticket to chicago, and an apartment to move into in logan square. To say I am happy is an understatement.

And my crazy 85 year old grandmother thinks I am gay.

Good thing she doesn't know how to use the internet, she might think I love machines!

the secret life of woman

this has been rattling inside my head for a couple of days.


One, two, three. A midori sour. A bud light. A lemonade for the pregnant friend. Ten children between the three women sitting at my table, but those kids are somewhere else. It might be eleven, I can't tell when they think it's life or not. Husbands being stay at home dads, at least for the evening, at least by the look on the rings on their left hands. Another midori sour, sides of ranch for the table. They giggle and smile and swear like sailors. They talk shit about another lady, about an ex husband, about the government. Another midori sour, more bud light. Flirty comments about after work Saturday night plans. Elbow touches and subtle winks. No more drinks, more laughing. Cash on the table and cash in my hand. Back to the car seats and formal living rooms that see no living. Back to families. Back to the responsibility, the doctor visits, the tax man. Back to the medications, back to preschools, back to happiness, of a different kind. The secret life of these women is over for now, an hour or so of distraction left like a french fry in a bucket of ranch. We have more in common than we know.