Illinoir

as of this writing, we’ve reached the halfway mark. woo hoo.

“CJ!” Mitch said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Miss Parker just came by to say hello,’ Hobie lied.
“Yes, I did,” CJ said, smiling and giving Mitch a hug, pressing her surgically enhanced bust against his muscular chest. “It’d been way too long since I’d seen little Hobie so I thought I’d just drop in.”
“How nice of you, CJ,” Mitch said. “Too bad Hobie has a date tonight and can’t hang out with you.”
“Oh he has a date, has he?” CJ asked. “And who is the lucky young lady?”
“Sarah Hanson,” Hobie said uncomfortably.
“Well, if you have sex with her, be sure to use a condom,” CJ smirked. “You don’t know where these girls have been nowadays.”
“CJ!” exclaimed Mitch. “Now, that’s very good advice, but hardly appropriate. Hobie, your Auntie CJ means well, but I don’t want you to get into any sort of trouble tonight, if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t worry, Dad, I won’t be having sex tonight.”
“Not with Sarah, anyway,” CJ said, under her breath.
“What was that, CJ?” Mitch asked.
“I said, ‘It is simply amazing what our government is able to perpetrate under the guise being the world’s police force. Consider the situation in Iraq. Our nation forbids other nations from invading their neighbors, and yet we send troops halfway across the world and do the same thing, only we call it nation-building and a war on terrorism.’”
“Oh,” Mitch said. “Because it sounded like you said ‘Rot in Harrah’s heyday.’”
“What on Earth does that mean?” CJ asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Mitch said. “That’s why I asked you.”
“Well, I don’t know. The two things don’t sound a bit alike.”
“I know,” Mitch said, confused. “This is very perplexing.”
“Yes, it is.”
Breaking up this verbal repartee was the doorbell; the savior of the uncomfortable, the destroyer of awkward situations. Oh great and powerful doorbell, amazing and wonderful bringer of new life into dull and tired scenes, we give your our praise and glory and hope that you will bless us with fresh blood. Ding-dong.

• date i get my stuff? nov 18. date they told me it’d be here? between the 4th and 14th. methods of recourse? none
• extra bill from comed? check
• check order for new bank denied? of course.
• extra money charged me by onegroup? absolutely!

Between 5 and 6, this stretch of Route 1 is a nightmare. This URL is now the indicator of whether or not I leave home…

Route 1 at Scudder’s Mill Road

Just about 3600 words behind every day. Not too terribly worried. Just shy of where I was this time last year. Be nice to have the excellent NaNoWriMo report card from this year handy for next year…. We shall see.

cygnoir will be happy to know that i’ve written a note in the margin that reads: “the giant squid wins!”

but the problem is that i’m only ~1/4 through the words, but about 90% through the story. so, the giant squid might not win, because the bad guy might have to win at first and then the good guys will chase him to oregon. that’s right, i said oregon.

• the woman across the way has a dog named Bella. this was my grandmother’s name. the only 2 times i’ve heard this name were when my grandmother had it, and now this dog. is the dog my grandmother reincarnated? i’m looking into it.
• had to ship off the xbox to memphis to get it repaired. sadness. xbox-less for 2 weeks. though, the xbox was pretty useless as it wouldn’t reliably play any games. 2 THUG saves corrupted, couldn’t play True Crime at all and R63 kept reloading the main menu mid-mission. dave points out i shoulda just bought a new one for $170 and gotten the new warranty (plus clone wars and tetris! wee-hah!)
• the streetlight outside my apt community is the smartest thing i’ve ever met. it’s so accomodating and brilliant, it makes me cry
• just shy of 15k words on the old nanowrimo front.
• my bitchin’ neighborhoodies evanston sweatshirt should arrive tomorrow, me hopes. yippie!
• time and sleep are different entities on the east coast. time moves strangely, sleep doesn’t work as it should
• I am furnishing my new apartment with accessories that I never knew I needed — a toaster, a paper towel holder, a q-tip dispenser. my apartment just cries out for these things. meanwhile, i’m crying out for my futon, bed, television, desk…. a frickin chair would be nice. they have till friday.

JUNE:
Thinks far with vision. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having lots of ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best. Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills. Talkative. Daydreamer. Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Abiding. Able to show character. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Brand conscious. Executive. Stubborn

Sunday afternoon, sitting in a sunny field, I found myself writing this beautiful scene:

“Oh, Barbara!” Mitch nearly swooned. “You also resemble the woman of my dreams!”
“Tell me about your dreams, Mitch,” Barbara said, taking his hands into hers.
“Well, okay. But this might sound really weird. I’m standing in a parking lot in Detroit, only I don’t know if it’s Detroit, because I’ve never really been to Detroit, you see? And it’s not really a parking lot per se, because there are all these pillars and bleachers and you couldn’t fit more than a couple cars in there. And I’m hungry, so I go up to the hotdog vendor. Did I forget to mention the hotdog vendor?”
“Umm. Yes,” Barbara said. A waiter hovered nervously nearby, ready to take their drink orders.
“There’s this hotdog vendor and he’s wearing a blonde wig and he’s shouting ‘Get your red hots here!’ just like they do in the ballpark, but I don’t know how I know that because I’ve never been to a ballpark. But I just know this guy works, or worked, at a ballpark. You know how in dreams you just know things?”
“Yes, Mitch. But I really think we should –”
“Wait, I’m not done yet. So I order a hotdog with everything on it and the vendor says that he only has pickles and daisies and I say that’s fine. So he gives me the hotdog, but I realize I don’t have any money with me. I tell him I can’t pay and he says I’ll just have to sing for my food. So I’m singing that John Cougar song? The one about Jack and Diane?”
“You mean, ‘Jack and Diane’?”
“No, no. The other one. Whatever. I’m singing, only I can’t sing too well because I’m eating, right? And the vendor’s getting really angry saying I’m cheating him out of his hard-earned food and he’s going to have me brought up on charges. So I start to run, still eating and still singing and I’m running through this field all of a sudden and I look back and I see that the entire cast of ‘Family Ties’ is chasing me and Michael J Fox is yelling at me that I stole his look. You remember that show?”
“Yes, of course, Mitch,” Barbara said. “But I really think that we ought to order –”
“Almost done. The cast is running me down. They’re everywhere and I’m running slowly, like I’m trying to run through molasses or quicksand or… or, I don’t know what. You get the picture. All of a sudden, they’re on top of me. Meredith Baxter Birney is pulling my hair and Justine Bateman is punching me in the kidneys. Even the baby. What was his name?”
“Andy. Played by Brian Bonsall.”
“Right. Even Brian Bonsall is biting my ankles. I can’t believe it! Somehow, I fight my way to my hands and knees and I’m crawling along, dragging them behind me when suddenly there’s a woman in front of me. Tall, blonde and beautiful. A vision. A savior. She waves her hands and one by one, my pursuers disappear. I stand up and take her in my arms. We kiss for a long while and then she disappears before I get a chance to ask her name or thank her.”
“That’s quite a dream, Mitch.”
“I know! And all this time, I’ve wondered who she was.” Mitch lowered his eyes. “It wasn’t until I met you that I figured it out. Barbara, you are that woman.”
“Mitch!”
“I’m serious, Barbara. I’m certain of it.”
“That’s amazing.”
“I just wanted to thank you for saving me from the cast members of ‘Family Ties.'”
“Think nothing of it,” Barbara said. “Now Mitch, can I tell you something?”
“Certainly, Barbara. Anything.”
“I think I’m falling in love with you, Mitch.”
“Oh, Barbara!”
The waiter had had enough. It was time for his smoke break anyway.

first photos of leaving and the trip available here!.

werll, a tough part about doing this nanowrimo in the midst of my move is that i feel like any written words must be for nanowrimo and it’s keeping me from recording many thoughts and feelings about the whole moving dealie.

well, screw thoughts and feelings — we want baywatch!