08/11/2003 - 10:17 p.m. | ship of fools / car of idiots

Good morning, sunshine. Long time no see. I've got plenty of weekend to get through, so I guess I'd better get to it. Work was nominal on Friday. Lately I've been able to lose myself in D&D campaigns, potential movie scripts, and further explorations on my life as a girl (I'm not a girl), so it goes by quickly enough. Actually, having gone three plus days without it, I'm sort of detached from the experience right now, so just allow me to revel in that, 'k?

After work, I collapsed for a bit until Ducky called and I guided him through a monsoon from 39 to here. He made it to the house next door, got confused, and looked at their garage sale instead. He met my parents (whom, they should note, are considered almost universally cool by all of my friends) and chatted with them far longer than most teenagers would do. I find that quality impressive in him, if you must know. My parents argued that I could not get through the whole weekend on twenty dollars, so Ducky and I drove into Sheridan so I could stop at the bank and so he could get a giant bottle of shitty, medicine-y root beer. And Sixlets!

From there, we took off on our way to Rockford. Ducky put the top down, and - having now experienced a convertible for a full weekend - I must say that I would never drive one, but I want to be a passenger in one forever. Wind in hair, sun in face, looks from people. Fun fun fun. Ducky made the wise choice of bringing a cardboard cutout of NASCAR superstar (television's) Rusty Wallace along with us. Well, actually, just his head and torso. No legs for Rusty. Anyway, he was to be our fourth traveler (whenever he wasn't stuffed in the trunk) until we could pass him off on Danjoe like we did the stovepipe muffler last summer. Haha - Danjoe. For now, though, Rusty fluttered around in the back, grinning happily, while Ducky and I listened to Huey Lewis ("Hip to Be Square!") and other 80's hits, followed by comedian Doug Stanhope (new host of "The Man Show" and surprisingly funny).

It began to rain on and off as we approached Rockford (top up and down), and then we got stuck in rush hour traffic. I made yet another "SHOW US YOUR FUNBAGS" sign, but it seemed risky to hold it up while stuck next to the same person for the next 45 minutes (especially when the person is this beefy angry man in a pickup truck with the license plate "ANGUS 9" - he was gonna fucking grab me by the neck and slam me to the ground for giggling at his as it was) We called Bill, and he led us on a "shortcut" through Rockford (delayed by us blatantly turning the wrong way) that eventually became familiar. I am such a landmark driver. Sucks for everyone else. Meanwhile, Ass Mix blared, and I assume everyone thought we were gay. Showed the sign to some prepubes (there's a catchy term) and they ended up passing us, displaying their hanging bags of laundry. This is technically a victory.

Pretty much since we had left, I had to pee, but I decided to see if I could hold it. By the time we got close to Rockton, the urine had spilled over from my bladder and was leaking into my stomach. Thus, laughter and communication were generally impossible. It was literally the worst I have ever had to pee ever. On the plus side, however, it was the best pee in the whole world when we finally stumbled our way to Bill's. We got lost in suburbia for a little, but random turns sort themselves out in the end.

I'm still on Friday, aren't I? Damn it.

Messed around at Bill�s house for a while, playing with his smelly, old (but loveable!) dog Libby. Then, it was deemed that the best course of action would be to go to Sears, since Ducky had a employee discount that we could possibly reap the benefits of. We headed out, and I popped in �Millennium New Wave Party,� which was a surprisingly big hit (especially �Rock Lobster�). Since we are disgusting monsters, we ate at KFC (which I believe I mentioned I had been craving � I can now safely say that my craving has been extinguished for several years). The potatoes broke the spork; society is doomed. We headed towards Danjoe�s from there, but after much lurking about in the bushes, we determined he wasn�t home, so Rusty rode on with us. Drove to Sears (Important note: �Petland� looks like �Retard� in the right font) and browsed their wares. Ducky chatted business with the local vaccuum salesperson. Bill and I looked on in amazement. Brief jaunt through old Cherry Valley mall or whatever. Memories. But no Kim Possible shirts in my size.

Brief ramblings around town, including Arby�s, Value City Furniture parking lot (with plenty of arguing about whether or not to try and hang out with the ricers), and a search for a �titty bar� (Bill�s words) that wasn�t a bar. We suck. And we came home very early. The proposed plan was to play Risk, but (thankfully), we watched The Big Lebowski instead. It was all right. Usually I like quirky movies plenty, but it felt like it was trying too hard maybe? I�m a snob. From there, The World Series of Poker on ESPN2!!! It was actually sort of entertaining to watch, so I think I�m going to make it a point to seek out weird events like that to watch from now on. One of the guys in the competition was this supergenius who went to college at 12 and completed law school at 18. He still lost to some cabdriver or something, though! Ha.

Slept, had dream about IMSA reunion. We all got in a big circle and hugged or something (I got someone good) and then there was a formal event I was severely underdressed for (Ducky and Bill had insane pink suits with Colonel Sanders ties and were all cocky about it). I worry about stupid things. Was awakened by Libby licking the back of my neck. There is no greater terror. Bill�s dad walked by shirtless. He waved, I waved. We all woke at around 8:30. Bill called us �shower fags,� which woke me up mostly because I had to argue with him about it. What? Nevermind. We all got ready, ate our Lucky Charms or whatever, and headed to Harvard, IL, to take the train into Chicago. Top down gets better and better. Speed is wonderful.

Took train from Harvard to Chicago. Long ass ride, but I had enough shit in my satchel to keep us mostly entertained. I <3 satchel. Ducky made the supposedly cute girl laugh, so I felt proud for him. There was a stop at Barrington, which gave us ideas, but we had things to do. Ducky�s cell phone has a memo recording option and a speakerphone. After so many years, the Yak Bak has returned to us. I replayed him calling me a farting vagina over and over again.

Arrived in Oglesomething station, met Ceci, tracked down Spritz (in town for swank fashion show, so we all took turns carrying his damn suit around with us), and started towards the Redbull Fl�gtag (spelled right?). Arrived considerably late, but it was packed anyway, so it�s not like we could�ve gotten better spots to watch. After much wandering, we found an OK spot in front of one of the big monitors, which is better than nothing. The Fl�gtag is this insane stunt by Redbull wherein people dress up in costumes, build crazy primitive flying machines, and launch them off a platform above a body of water (in this case Lake Michigan). Something about the pure idiocy of it makes it very entertaining, and lots of people get really into it (dancing Oompa Loompas and all). My favorite was the �flying� zamboni. Lisa called, and Ducky tried to lead her to us, but he is not so great with directions, so by the time she arrived (having picked up Vivas and Harrison along the way), she had to go. I yelled at her to take me off block. She gave me a sarcastic half-smile. I called her a drama queen and told her to unblock me. Same smile. I shot her with a plastic pellet gun and told her to take me off the block list. She walked away. Some people are just unreasonable. I am of course referring to myself.

After a while, we decided that the whole thing was pretty useless and crowded and hot, so we walked to a Bennigan�s for lunch. Yep. Bennigan�s and watching a big screen. Really reaping the benefits Chicago has to offer. The wait at the pseudo-Irish family restaurant (O�Yummy desserts!) was ungodly, but Spritz was on a phone adventure anyway, so I guess it could be worse. I spent more on food than is typical, but I�ll just pretend this is my vacation or something. Nothing unexpected, but nothing bad either. Man, I came up with a good theory involving something, but now I forget. Damn this brain, and it�s incapacity for details!

After we finished, we were more or less tapped out, Chicagolly (stupid hobos), so we started to head back to our respective stations. Spritz decided that he prolly had time to visit Rockton, and he asked me to come along on the train ride and drive following that. I know I shouldn�t be so easily flattered, but I am, so shut up. Our train left about an hour earlier than Ducky and Bill�s, so we had some time to kill. Following our typical discussions on the train (and two sips of vending machine coffee), we banged around Aurora a little. Uh � perhaps I should have used a different word there. Ignored. We stopped at Borders, and I spent a ridiculous amount of money there, but I must stand by my logic that since I only get around once a month, I need to buy a month�s worth of stuff at a time. Still, big old dent. 4 CDs and 2 books entirely unrelated to either dungeons or dragons. I promise. We stopped by Dank�s because neither of us had heard from him for a while, but nobody was home, so we got on the road again.

King Crimson (which is the most Spritz-like music I�ve ever sort of liked) and McDonald�s. I got a big, big fucking orange juice and the expensive chicken sandwich because I thought it might taste different. It doesn�t. And I was dumb and forgot to order it plain, so mayo aplenty. Luckily, the drink lid I used to scrape it off worked amazingly well. Too well, one might say. Eerie. Meanwhile, the cretins working there locked themselves out of the employees only room and were trying unsuccessfully to break into it with a credit card. This is the future. Also, I�m having my next big conference at a McDonald�s. Just because I can.

Arrived in Rockford and then I warily guided Spritz to Bill�s, proving that landmark people aren�t incapable, just severely handicapped. Got there and immediately left again because I had spotted a mini-golf place with Dippin� Dots (the ice cream of the future!) earlier that day, and we just had to hit that shit up. Inflation has certainly kicked in there because my fucking tiny bag of Dippin� Dots was three bucks and golf was like six. Not cool. As always, I lost� because I suck at everything. And Spritz won� because he�s good at everything. But I had fun! It�s always like I�m just mediocre enough to lose� Sort of a strange talent, really.

From there, we went inside and tried a few of the crappy ticket-winning games. Spritz started off with one of those basketball games, and he did fairly well, until someone suggested that you could just activate the sensor instead. So, having the longest arms or something, I leaned over the plexiglass and moved my hand up and down through the hoop, breaking the record several times over. Soon, it became a desperate struggle for tickets, and we all spent a good more deal then we should have, trying to get tickets before they closed. In the end, we had a crappy football, crappy superballs, and crappy hand keychain. It was totally worth it. Ice cream rocked as well.

Back to Bill�s, and we were planning to go out again, but I just completely passed out until the next morning when the dog woke me again, this time with the constant Jabba-the-Hutt-like growls she makes whenever she lies down. We all awoke at 10 and just watched bad TV for a while. �Love Connection� (sooo 80s) and this bad ripoff of The Matrix with this guy named Fingal or something. Also, �Behind the Music� with Kid Rock! He really did work hard� This does not make me appreciate him anymore. I made Ducky yell the �WOO�s along with audience on �Love Connection� so I knew when I was missing something good while in the shower. Bill�s mom made us lunch. Everyone is very hospitable, and I�d just like to thank them again.

Spritz had to go, and Ducky, Bill, and I left not too long after ourselves (after Bill�s dad discussed his homemade beer with Ducky for long lengths of time). We stopped at Danjoe�s for another attempt at dropping off Rusty, but still no dice, so we started on the path down south to visit Joe. Weather was beautiful, tunes were kickin�, everything was great. We stopped in Dixon to see if we could track down Jon and Jeremy (and maybe give them Rusty!). We more or less broke into their house (which we found because the family is notorious apparently) and then tried McDonald�s (their job, not because we are ignorant), but no luck there either. Headed on down 88. I smiled and waved at people, who often smiled and waved back (but mostly because Rusty was jiggling around in a seatbelt next to me, I think). Ducky and Bill kept getting a little lost, and I was in back and couldn�t hear them anyway, so I just stayed happily oblivious with my wind and sun. Seriously, nothing finer as far as I am concerned.

We made it to Cambridge and tried to find Joe�s place, but once again had to stop for directions. Luckily, Joe happened to show up the gas station we were at just then. We went back to his place and met his two insane dogs. Well, Lily isn�t too bad. She�s just really big and docile and slow. Rocky, on the other hand, is psycho. He�s this little pug who�s more or less a rapid-fire eating and shitting machine. My first impression was of him leaping at the front window and smashing his face against it, stuck because he was too fat to climb down off the couch. Then he scurried around mauling everyone. Then he took a dump on the rug. Coolest dog ever. He�s just this ball of ugly, smelly energy. Much like myself. If you take his little American flag bandana, he flips out and tries to kill you. And he is having a football jersey made. Wow.

Writing skills fading. Who can tell, though? I made a ridiculous online impulse buy and then we sat around and watched Bill play video games more or less. Good thing I had a book. Lasagna for dinner. Joe let Rocky lick his plate. The dog leapt excitedly off the couch to the plate Joe had placed under the table. Unfortunately, he was a little too quick and got his back legs stuck on the table while his front ones dangled just above the plate until he finally plopped down. Seriously, this dog is amazing. Amazingly fat.

We started to watch this special on kamikaze pilots (�Oh my God! I�m so Asian!�), but had to leave early to make it to Iowa (yes, Iowa) to go see Pirates of the Carribean. We stopped at what is unanimously agreed to be the worst Wal-mart ever to get candy and vanilla Pepsi (EW) and balloon animal ballons (well, just I got those� because I decided we needed swords and hats� no one else agreed). The movie was really expensive (damn you, Iowa), but more or less enjoyable. The chick was pretty, and Johnny Depp was awesome as the touched in the head fairy pirate. This is my term for him. Then we all peed in the parking lot at different corners and listened to some retard jabber on the radio about 427 times of something.

Joe drove home, so lots more velocity and cruising or something. Cambridge sucks. Then we came home and watched the Soap Network and pointed out the chicks we would �do.� Guys are cool. This went on for like 4 hours. We also ate pizza and watch Joe break his Star Wars game over and over. Everyone went to sleep except for me� because I continued watching, like, billiards on ESPN2 or something. Fast learner.

Woke up and more or less resumed affairs from the previous day (it is now Monday, if you are keeping track). Video games and bad TV (with me reading in the downtime). We went out driving for a while. Joe took us to two or three hotspots in the area. Old Stumpy, a big tree stumpy (now removed) where high school kids used to hide their beer and whatnot. Rollercoaster Hill, a series of steep hills that can get a car pretty well airborne if you aren�t so bogged down (we were, but it was still cool). And the Bridge of Oblivion, which is this crazy spray-painted bridge that is fairly easy to leap over, nearly breaking Ducky�s car in this case. As Joe put it, �If Jesus were a bridge, he�d be this bridge.� We stopped at the grocery store to get stuff for lunch. I got inspired by watching this fucked up British kids show called �The Wiggles� and decided to bake a cake, so I did that while Ducky overly-defrosted the burgers, leading Joe to overcook them. Yum. Plastic-y. The cake turned out OK, though!! Funfetti and all. We wasted some more time, but pretty soon it was 4 and about time to go.

I read for a good chunk of the ride home, but the music was loud, and I got a little carsick or something because I didn�t feel well, and I�m still not feeling great now. Headache and a little nausea or something. Ick. I turned my attention to balloon animals and singing after a while (my natural state), which helped some. I made hats and finally came up with a halfway decent way to make a flower. Hooray for me.

Long, long time later, we arrive in Rockford and try Danjoe�s once more. Someone answers this time, though! �He�s in the northern woods of Wisconsin!� Oh. So much for that. We drop Bill off at home, pee, get insane directions to 90, and head out on our way. I play Ducky a little of my random shit (but not much because it makes me feel awkward) and we stop at Taco Bell in Rochelle for dinner. We both wear balloon hats. He decides that he needs a new ring tone for his phone and sets me on the task of finding one. We both agree �99 Luftballoons� would be good (I like �Get Ur Freak On� and him the theme from �CHiPs,� but different strokes and all) but we get to the middle of podunk nowhere before we can make it through the list or download anything. Damn. Getting my own cell phone will be a test of self-control, I can see. We drive towards my house. I drank too much, so I have to pee in a corn field. Ducky turns off the lights, but I use my little blue raver LED to illuminate my piss. I am cool. I arrive home at about 9:30. Ducky only several minutes ago. It�s been a long weekend� and nearly as long of an entry. And I bet I forgot tons. But, as you�re prolly screaming, �END IT! END IT NOW!� I will do so.

Now.