Small Town Survival

Back to the US, back to Michigan, back to writing. I've been scarce for some time now but not without good reason. Of course, Denmark was fantastic and I was lucky to return to the US only to have Andreas follow me a few days later. Since then we've been galavanting around the state. Actually we even ventured to Ohio to visit the zoo. Once wasn't enough so we went to the Detroit zoo as well and then to the Henery Ford Museum and Greenfield Village. We couldn't miss the Manchester Chicken Broil or the Ann Arbor Art Fair so we managed to check out all those. We even found time for the lake, a number of book stores and a few parties with friends. Somewhere during all that I aquired a puppy and a few bite marks on my hands and feet.

Only a few days ago, Andreas returned to Denmark and I tried not to be too sad about the whole thing, although you might say I won't get passing marks on my performance. Now it's back to the daily grind of puppy training, resume updating and you know, the big career search. Living with my parents has its benifits I suppose, but those come with drawbacks as well. Anyway, welcome to Small Town Survival, hopefully I will and can move on to the next big thing.

What is there to say about travel? If you've been following along on my Small Town Adventures then you know that I don't have a whole lot going on in my life right now. I'm searching for a job, I'm subbing and I'm going to school. Sure, it might sound like a lot except that all of those things combined only take up a tiny fraction of my time. I had to add an entire category on my site for TV because I watch so much of it these days (although I have cut back a lot - which is probably worse).

So why would I need to get away? What's so bad about my routine that I so desperately want to break it up? Well, a lot - that's what. And besides, who doesn?t want to get away on occasion? [And since I backdate my entries here, I can look back and say that I was creatively drained. No, it?s not so much drained as stagnant. Creatively stagnant waters are not a pleasant place to be and no one wants anything to do with them. Not even me. And they're my waters. Ew.]

I wake up feeling kind of crappy, the cold I?ve had since Sunday is still going strong. It?s not as bad as it was Tuesday and I was right when I decided that would be the worst day. {the power of optimism perhaps?] There isn?t much left to pack so I take a shower and stuff the last few things into my bag. Then I double check to make sure I have everything, add a few things I don?t need, take some of those out and add a few more. It?s a fun little game.

After chasing down the dog who was chasing down deer my dad and I manage to leave the house and make our way to the store. I need betteries, travel packs of Kleenex (yes, the brand) and something to eat on the train. Oh, and some juice or water or something liquid. I?m thinking of the other passengers here, no one wants to hear my cough for five hours. Seriously.

I say we managed to leave the house because my dad was fussing that we weren?t going to have enough time to do anything so he rushed me around the store and drove really fast to get to the train station. This is the station that?s somewhere in the middle of a construction site and no one is sure if we can even get to it that this point or not. Not really the thing you want to think about when you?re on the way with a limited amount of time to work with. I didn?t think so either.

Then again, since I occasionally show signs of being dyslexic I arrive way early and end up sitting at the station for an hour before the train comes. I thought my train was to leave at 11:35 and the sign says 11:53. Of course, the train was late.

I slept most of the way to Chicago, waking up long enough to change CDs, listen to the girl next to me talking on her cell phone (I could hear both ends of the conversation) and to eat cereal bars from Kellogg?s (cranberry apple - quite good) and drink some Dole cranberry cocktail juice. I might have taken an additional dose of medication. Luckily non-drowsy doesn?t really apply to me and sleeping makes a five-hour train ride seem a lot shorter. All in all I?m doing pretty well except for the fact that I still don?t have any cash (still as in I forgot to stop at an ATM before I got on the train and strangely enough none appeared in my wallet while I was sleeping on the west bound train).

It?s really at this point that things get interesting because the train is late enough that it?s not worth taking a cab (with money that I don?t have). Instead I get to stand on Canal Street and wait. And talk to people I don?t know. And learn exactly what lengths people are willing to go just to have a conversation. Interested? Stay Tuned.

Last time I was standing on the street waiting for my ride. That would be Ryan for those of you who don't know.

Around here, a big blue bag, a black tote bag and a plaid pillow say "speak to me!" to people passing by. I got a lot of smiles from all kinds of people and a few offers from some others. First there was the shabby looking guy who was trying to gather $2 to get back to his destination. I'm not sure where you can go on the train for $2 or maybe he already had the money or maybe he wanted to pop over to McDonalds for a snack, I can't be sure and I wasn't going to delve into the reasons he was asking strangers for money on the street.

I wasn't completely opposed to helping him out, but I didn't have any real money in my pocket and I learned my lesson through Tommy in New York. Never take out your wallet, if they see you have money that you aren't giving them the lady wearing nothing but a garbage bag will follow you down the street for at least three blocks. Your friends will be reluctant to get involved. Either way, I was pretty sure I had a quarter in my coat pocket It can't hurt right? So I tell him I have a quarter and it turns out it's a nickel. Okay, now that's jut cruel. I did around in my pocket to see if I can't find that quarter and eventually it turns up. I tell him I have 30 cents and offer him that. If you think about it, 30 cents is well on the way to $2.

But the exchange doesn't stop there. He thanks me and then decides that I'm so nice he wants to get to know me. Or maybe he's hoping I'll feel bad and give him more money? That's not nice. He asks me my name and for some reason I feel really uncomfortable giving my name to someone I'm never going to see again. I tell him it's Suzanne. He tells me his but I can't hear what he says, I feel a little bad about that. He asks if I'm married and I say no. Do I have a boyfriend? Yes. How long have you been together? I exaggerate, about 4 years. Ah, well thanks for the help. You have a blessed day. Uh.. thanks, you too! And good luck!

Chicago loves me, I can tell already.

In case I had any doubts, she proves it to me with the next exchange. A guy selling Streetwise on the street starts talking at me. First it starts with how cute I am, then damn, I'm sexy. I smile my thanks and say it must be my cold - nothing like sickness to make someone look sexy. He doesn't say anything for a few minutes and I think it's over.

I wait in silence and then he starts up again. I'm the kind of girl that makes it easy to be faithful. None of that messing around. He declares that he would work three jobs if he had too. If I were his. You know, to pay all my bills and take care of me. I'm wondering if he knows I have student loans. After reiterating how faithful he would be and how hard he would work he asks me if I have a boyfriend. Yes. Ah, I knew you did, how could you not? Again with the question of how long we've been together. It's more of a statement; I bet you've been together a long time. Five years? Close, I tell him, exaggerating again. 4.5.

This is a nice window for him to tell me that he's been with his girlfriend for 3 years. Well, his ex-girlfriend. She's still trying to get back together with him. That opens a lot of possibilities for what she's like. If the best guy that ever happened to her makes his living selling magazines on the street, she could be a really interesting person. This is also where God will strike me down for judging people I haven't even met.

Not only does his ex want to get back together with him, he needs bodyguards and a gun when he does see her because she's psycho. He has really good taste in women, I wonder what that says about me. God didn't strike me down, instead he felt sorry for me and Ryan arrived before I could become this guys personal therapist. Oh, I think that's my ride. Yeah, it is. Oh, is that your boyfriend. Yes, yes, he is! Uh, good luck, nice talking to you.

I should also mention that the guy pointed out that he was kidding several times, but only after he knew I had a boyfriend. Then again, who tries to take someone home from the train station when she is obviously waiting for someone else? Exchange numbers maybe? Not me, thanks.

In the next installment, some guy tries to convince me I'm Lady Luck, a grocery store confounds me with it's clever layout and Shannon arrives.

Previously your small town girl was being rescued by her good friend Ryan, who hales from a town that's known for it's hamburgers more than it's large size. Oh, right, that's because it's small too.

[As a side note I'd like to share with you that I was going to go to a movie tonight but it doesn't start until 11:45 and I'm not sure I want to drive to the city one more time today. Instead I've opted to sit down with my new mug, filled with hot chocolate, and tell a little more of my story. I know, you love me for it. Or you pity me in my old age for not staying out so late. We'll see which it is. Then again, maybe I will go. Still a half hour to decide!]

Okay, so Ryan picked me up and I started telling him about the guy that was trying to pick me up while I waited for my ride. Of course we found this enormously funny. I also rediscovered the word "fuck" and knowing what I know now, I might have tried to suppress it when it showed up. Instead it plagued my every sentence for the rest of the trip. Another source of amusement. I'll try and spare you the redundant parts.

Anyway, we were driving to the bowling alley where Ryan is part of a Thursday Night league. It might be the only reason I didn't arrive on the later train with Shannon. According to my dad, league night would be a highlight in the map of my life. Or rather, the best time ever! I'm not really sure how my dad would phrase something like that since I seem to have tuned it out, but I remember his excitement about the whole thing.

I can't recall everything we talked about in the car on the way to the bowling alley. We bounced around from bowling, to childhood, to parents, relationships, how I'm a bum during the rest of the week, the way kids are funny, what we might tell high schoolers if we actually thought they'd listen and something about sex because you can't have a conversation in Chicago without sex coming up at least once. I might have made that part up.

We talked through our bowling alley meal, including me having 10 inches cut off my hair and how cool the red highlights were. I'm sure I'm the girliest girl around sometimes. I also mentioned how some 3rd graders pointed out that they were nearly as tall as I am. My Chicago Response (CR) was "And sometimes I want to tell those little fuckers to sit down." I'm pretty sure in real life I just laughed at the kid and made some bad short joke that he was bound to repeat. It's always the boys that point it out too, like they can't wait to be big tall men. The girls sometimes whisper about it, but they don't ever say anything to me. I only bond with the high schoolers when they want to talk about piercings and my new hair cut because it's so cute. Talk about an ego boost, just get your hair chopped off really short and cute and people will make you feel good about yourself wherever you go.

I watched Ryan bowl and must admit I'm impressed, only because his average is at least 100+ higher than mine. He's good. I haven't attempted to bowl in years. Some guy pointed out that Ryan had his lady luck with him gesturing to me. I might have blushed when the guy suggested that I blow him a kiss for good luck. I said I didn't think he needed the luck. What I really meant is if I was to blow anything towards anyone they would get infected with my sick germs and be really unhappy with me for at least the next week. Then again, I learned on the street that sick is obviously sexy.

Oh, and if you think that my experience with the homeless/street people was bad you should check out what happened to Shannon. She arrived at the train station before we were there to pick her up and this woman whose dentures were falling out was following her around trying to get Shan to give her $20 so she could get to the women's shelter. Now while I feel bad for people who are down on their luck, you can't approach someone and ask for money when your scary teeth are going to frighten away your chances. Don't do it.

While Shannon was stuck in the train station wondering where the hell we were Ryan and I were wandering around a shopping center. I think it's called Jewel, but I could be mistaken. Either way it's a lot like our Meijer. And everyone has them; you know the Supermart that's open 24 hours a day, etc. etc. etc. We probably made 14 trips back and forth across the store trying to gather everything we might need for breakfast the next day: milk, eggs, bacon, sausage, orange juice and somehow we ended up with 2 gallons or so of ice cream. You wouldn't think it would take that much time to find those items. Pretty straight forward, but I was tired and sick and in a new place and Ryan had never been to this particular Supermart. And you know what I'm talking about when I say that they aren't all laid out the same. I'm used to the Meijer in Okemos now, but it's not the same as the one on Ann Arbor Saline Rd and the one on Zeeb Rd isn't the same as either of those. I don't know what's wrong with Cooperate Supermart, but they don't care about the poor people who get lost in them. At. All.

Example: We were going to pick up some cold medicine so everyone could sleep peacefully sans jenn's coughing and sniffling. We found the pharmacy. There are all kinds of drugs; everything you could ever need to keep your digestive system functioning perfectly, some sort of vitamins, organic stuff, and more. But are there drugs for anything else? No. No. No. Eventually we found them hanging out on their own behind the allergy medicine. With so many different kinds and no more patience I whined, "Why does this have to be so hard?"

At this point Ryan either found some sympathy for me or he lost his patience and helped me pick something out. Not without, of course, making fun of me for whining about it.

We made it through the check out though, to the car, and to the train station without any more incidents and Shannon didn't have to wait too long. We made it to Ryan's apartment, met Allison, Johnny Bravo, and watched Old School. I've never been so tired as I was that night. I'm sure I missed a lot of the movie because I was zoning out at some point. I had some issues finding the instructions on the cold medicine, but after I figured them out, managed to get the bottle open and indulged my cold, I was out like a light in a matter of minutes. This is despite the shots that were being done a few rooms down. No wonder no one could wake up the next morning. Yikes.

Tomorrow tune in as we wake up late, visit the Field Museum, explore the backrooms, find out who else has a Friday bar and then watch us crash early. Stay tuned if for no other reason than to find out who Johnny Bravo really is!

[and with that I'm done in time to catch the movie, who knew?!]

As promised, I'll tell you a little more about Johnny Bravo. He's a Rhodes Scholar, he gets hit on by gay guys (frequently? I'm not sure), he likes movies as an escape, will share random over-reactive opinions that have nothing to do with anything, and seems to prefer shots of Jim, or maybe that was Jack. I was trying to sleep, so what do I care. Oh, and according to my mother, his mother had a sense of humor because she named him Rudyard. No, go ahead and laugh. I won't tell.

To this day I'm not sure what to think of Ryan's roommate except that he reminds people of Johnny Bravo, even if they weren't initially aware of it. Oh, and Dudley, one of the Canadian Mounties, from some other cartoon. People would certainly say that if they could remember said cartoon. He's a nice guy though, don't get me wrong. Very friendly.

Anyway, Friday. We eventually managed to get up and get going for the day. I would also like to take this space to thank Shannon who did most of the cooking the days that we were there. Everything was great and appreciated. Now if I could only get her to make me breakfast every day? okay, I'm kidding. It was awesome though.

Another eventually to add to the list is that we made it to the Field Museum - eventually. Shannon already mentioned a lot of this stuff in it's breakdown form, but I'm here to judge the freaks that we saw all weekend. Okay, not all of them, since there were way too many, but I'll give you a nice sampling.

Our fist lucky contestant is a guy that was trying to pass through the entrance while we were checking in to the Museum as guests/visitors. The security lady asked to see the guy's hand stamp and instead he showed her his phone. I'm not sure in what language hand stamp = phone, but he thought so. Right.
Next after wandering around the museum for awhile, we came across contestant number two - a guy who looked a little hurried or frantic. He asked if we knew where the "diamond dust" was. I told him sorry, no, and he rushed off before we could ask any more questions or even wonder what the hell he was really talking about. For the rest of the morning we saw him walking around searching for this elusive diamond dust. When we were on our way downstairs to meet Ryan for lunch we saw him again, talking to one of the security guards. She was shaking her head and he looked a little disappointed as he bolted off in another direction. I don't know if he ever found what he was looking for, but maybe he should have been more specific, or less frantic.

Shan and I met some of Ryan's coworkers at lunch and talked about everything from travel to Britney's new video (which I haven't seen - although I've heard she looks good naked?). One of the guys had just returned from Europe so we heard about his travels through Switzerland, Italy and France. We also talked about the diamond dust guy and no one knew anything about any diamond dust. We wondered if maybe he was looking for some other kind of "rock" or maybe it was simply at the Science and Industry museum. Poor guy, the butt of jokes he didn't even know were being made.

After lunch we saw photos from the European adventure, took the beetle tour, and wandered around the museum for another couple hours. Or maybe we spent some time sitting around talking because it was way easier than staying on our tired feet. Then there was the Friday bar, which is a lot like the Friday bar's in Denmark, except that it's all the departments in one room, not a lot of people and no one looks like they really want to mingle. I did see a guy drop a bunch of pretzels on the floor though. He got pretty mad about it and I thought it was funny.

I should probably admit that the combination of alcohol and cold medicine made me a little ? drunk. I remember that I was telling Shannon some things and at one point I couldn't remember why they were relevant and why I would want to tell anyone stuff like that. So I was aware of it, but I kept doing it. I'm glad no one else talked to me, I might have been inclined to tell secrets. Silly, sick, drunk girl. That's me.

Afterwards we stopped at the store to pick up things for this awesome chicken dish that Shannon made. The only thing I remember about the store is that we debated about what size of things to buy a lot, Ryan still doesn't like onion, bulk spices are dirt cheap, I wanted to buy chocolate but didn't and we couldn't find the pasta.
The dish seemed to be a big hit [I've made my own variation of it at least twice since then]. Even Johnny Bra? er, I mean Rud liked it. Hee. Okay, anyway. We ended up watching a VH1 countdown of 100 one-hit-wonders. Luckily we tuned in at 37 and eventually figured out that it had nothing to do with taste or popularity and everything to do with if you had a #1 song on the charts and only one #1. This means that artists like The Verve and Jimi Hendrix were on that list. Crazy, I know. If you can guess the #1 one-hit-wonder I'll send you a prize. No cheating, we're going on honor here.

I think watching that many nostalgic songs on TV wore us out and we had to crash early. Or maybe we were all really tired from the night before. Especially the people doing shots. Really.

I think Shannon covered most of the day-time freaks we encountered on Saturday, but come back around and I'll tell you about the drunk ones you'll encounter at night.

Today's the day I fly to Michigan for a few weeks. Hope to see some of you there. Cheers.