is a blog by Brendan
In Providence. Maria is shocked at me for being unhip enough to mention that I don’t like the Strokes in a record store, but dang, man, they’re all 2002.
It was a long drive but not so long as California. I have now visited both ends of the country inside 30 days, so basically I’m the king and I get a special hat.
Last night Ian, Caitlan and I hopped in Ian’s car amidst pouring rain and drove down to Planet Thai in Lexington, where (as per Mom’s instructions) we surprised Joe at his birthday dinner. I’m not actually sure how old Joe is. My guess would be “bearded years old.”
In addition to Joe’s Eddie Bauer gift certificate, I got to give out the last of my California souvenirs–Joe got a t-shirt, Mom got a bar of Lily soap from the European-goods store in Lawrence, and Caitlan got a green Robin Hood hat from a vintage store in Berkeley (Ian had already received his copy of All Flesh Must Be Eaten). It was fun, especially since I had wrap-bagged the presents in the car, while sitting right in front of Caitlan.
Planet Thai was, by Mom and Joe’s well-honed Thai standards, a bit mediocre. Ian didn’t much like his pad thai, but I ate a whole lot of my crab fried rice. It was pretty subtle, though. It could have used about eight or ten more pounds of crab.
Ian and I left everybody else behind to continue on yet to Richmond, where we met the famous Katie and went bowling. Ian and Katie called each other names, and I bowled a two. This is harder than you’d think, especially with the gutter bumpers in.
Richmond doesn’t look strange yet, or maybe it doesn’t look strange anymore; I mentally moved out of there sometime during my senior year of high school. Not much has changed, except for the increase in liquor stores, which is rapidly approaching parity with the population.
It was a long night of driving, and I’m glad Ian was courteous enough to be my ride, especially with the roads as awful as they were at first. I fell asleep for a while on the way back (Mom and Dad drove me around when I was a baby to get me to sleep, so I pretty much always do this), and I think at one point I woke myself up by snoring. My neck hasn’t been quite right since, but on the other hand, I’m not dead in a car crash either. Ten points.
Oh, sure, Leonard may have 81 pictures of the trip, and sure, I have like, ten. But does he have himself in the plastic mullet? Well, he probably could. Pretty easily.
Maria’s state map is… I don’t know, she has to be cheating. Apparently the absence of West Virginia is a subject of much debate in her family.
Thanks to California, my World66 state map makes it appear as if I just started in the midwest and tried to explore as far as I could in each cardinal direction. I’m kind of surprised I’ve been to as many northeastern states as I have, and so few southern ones.
I cleaned a lot of plates in Berkeley, pumped a lot of pain in the EFF offices. But I never saw the good side of the city… until I played Illuminati with Leonard, Seth and Zack while Sumana danced to songs about shell accounts.
Actually I saw several very neat sides of the city, including BART (which beats the tar out of TARC, I’m afraid, leaving it with one measly C) and Salon Central. I missed out on the party at City Hall, but I sure heard a lot about it. The weather was gorgeous, and I made new friends (Jacob from Alaska is three, and he and I played hide-and-seek from O’Hare to Louisville).
Recent excursions into Powellian hyperbole notwithstanding, I had a freaking great time in California, thanks entirely to my kind and generous hosts. Even though I’ve been up for about 30 hours trying to grab the tail end of all the work I missed, I don’t regret a thing, and I can’t wait to go back. Maria and I spent a good chunk of yesterday (when I should have been, um, grabbing the aforementioned work-tail) making the first real arrangements for this summer’s Calicomicon journey. The Five Lords of the Texas Eagle will sow terror and reap, um, comic books!
Picked up one of Leonard’s dozens of backup clone-bodies in Sin City, so the parity of Leonard:Brendan was restored to full efficiency. We attempted to employ a magnet-gun scheme to make millions at the roulette table, but were defeated when they wouldn’t accept our bets in Berendes Bucks.
We thoroughly rocked Bakersfield, as assisted by Leonard’s mom Frances Whitney, Three-Time Champion of the World. Yesterday, we limped at last into San Fran, Destination City, where I had dinner with a conspiracy of interwebbian luminaries whose URLs I don’t have time to look up right now. Fortunately, I managed to pick the hay out of my teeth before my beef ‘n’ rice ‘n’ plantains arrived.
Today, maybe Berkeley, certainly Salon, then dinner and who knows what.
So I’m gonna have to jump!
Still alive. Typing slowly after losing three fingers to frostbite. Have taken shelter with kind Susanna and John in Provo, Utah.
Stayed a night at Days Inn, Sidney, Nebraska. Crossed the border at 0900. Wyoming was very bad. Windy. Snow in the pass. Got desperate. Ate Leonard. Still feel cold, so deep in bones. The cold. The wind.
Tomorrow: Vegas.
We have reached Lawrence, Kansas, and have been fed a delicious and restorative meal by Alyson and Dave themselves. This has soothed our battered spirits, aggravated by a day spent mostly slap-fighting over the XM radio. Leonard has some advantage, in that he can attempt to swipe other cars on the passenger side to jar my grip. I, meanwhile, have two free hands and thus twice the slap potential. It’s a very close match; tomorrow, I plan to fill my pockets with sand to throw in his eyes. I’ve seen him eyeing the PASNGR EJCT button, and there’s no way I’m getting rocketed out into Kansas before we reach Cheyenne.
