Patience
2005-04-22 12:10 p.m.
This trip has been exactly that. A fucking trip. I�m beginning to get the hang of the whole homeless thing. Much easier this time around than in the past as a lot more people have wifi and high speed internet these days. It�s nice to be able to keep up with work and clients while not having a desk of my own.I am getting really tired of the imposing feeling though. After a couple days I get a bit antsy. I hate being in people�s way. Generally the people I�m staying with don�t mind at all, but I still feel I�m in the way. I just really need my own place.
Chicago was dope. The first week I spent drinking with old friends and new strangers. I tried getting hold of my ex through her cousin. No luck. I gave some dude $150 for a $100 ounce I fucked him on about 10 years ago. Made up wit ha lot of people, cleared a lot of air, told my story about the move 15,000 times, etc. A lot of catching up on 5 years of being away. For the most part everyone is doing incredibly well. Lots of married, divorced, parenting, etc. It was getting to me at first � thinking that maybe it was time for me to slow down. Gladly I got my head straight.
The last week in town, when I was about ready to get the fuck outa dodge, I met the incredible woman previously mentioned. All the shit on my head disappeared. We spent far too much time at her place, as I think we both would have enjoyed going out more. It was an thoroughly intense couple weeks. Lots of great conversations and damned good quality time. Best of all, it kept my head off all the shit attempting to claim stake in my thoughts.
She was hard to leave, and when G needed another week because his grandfather wasn�t doing well in the hospital, I was excited. Well, not excited about his grandfather, obviously. That was really bad. He�s G�s final reliable father figure and his presence is a pretty huge deal for him. Patiently, I told him to take all the time he needs, and selfishly, I wanted more time with S. Although I did feel bad for taking up ALL her time, but she�s pretty convincing when she tells me she didn�t mind.
G�s grandfather�s numbers were coming back up and the family was hopeful � so it was time to head out. Leaving was rough. G�s family is REALLY tight knit. They were all in the garage watching us pack up the car with everything G owns. After 2 hours of packing and my last 2 Chicago hot dogs for a few months, G goes in to write some letters and make some calls for �20 minutes�. 2 hours later (about 2am) he makes his way back into the garage. His step father was drunk (he was drinking slowly, expecting only 20 minutes), his aunt asleep in the passenger seat, his cousin and I playing around with a pellet rifle, a few others (sisters, cousins, etc) scattered around the garage straining to fend off awkward silences - maintaining their patience.
That garage was rough. Various bursts of tears. Some friendly shit talking (cuz I�m taking him away from them or whatever). It was sweet, but there�s only so much you can deal with. I was excited when that bastard made it out. We could finally head out. I had one reason to stay in Chicago and hundreds to go. Well, that one reason was a heavy one, but the scales tipped to getting out of dodge and one week and about 10 hours late, we were off.
We each had a personal blunt, with some Muddy Waters blaring, skyline shrinking behind us, ready to head out on our first 20 hour stretch down south. Halfway through our B�s, we end up in a parking lot of traffic. Stoned and idling at about 2 � 3 mph, we doused our b�s and hoped this wasn�t a sign of things to come.
After a half hour of construction traffic, we were off. Lit our B�s back up, bumped some Jimi and head out into the night. We would be in Houston by 10 that night. The drive flew by. I think after that road trip a couple years ago, long stretches of road come pretty easily. You still get the impatient feeling once in a while, while comparing the time with the miles driven and figuring how much time is left, realizing you�ll be watching these lines go by for another 5 hours.
Twisted on a combination high of caffeine from cokes, diet cokes, red bulls and bad rest stop coffee, sugar highs from our 5 boxes of Hostess shit (our boy D drives a Hostess truck), zoneing out on a continuous array of white and yellow lines one either side of the car, staring at the back of a semi for hours, checking speed and gas, looking out for odd animals interested in ending it all. Your mind really goes. I could write a book with all the shit that goes through my head while driving on long stretches.
Occasionally the passenger will wake up, get in a 10 minute conversation about whatever the fuck random shit happened to be in the driver�s mind at the moment and then pass back out. While G was asleep I�d usually sing along to whatever was blaring out of my ipod. It kept me up and in a good mood. All kinds of shit ranging from Murs to People Under the Stairs to Sinatra to Jimi to Curtis Mayfield to Anthony Hamilton to Portishead to Etta James to Mos Def to Kanye to whatever the fuck else is good to sing to.
Houston was fun as fuck. It�s a pretty nice city. Nothing at all like what I expected. My cousin A and his brother M put us up for two nights. We hung out with them and their girls. We bum rushed some local bar since all bars stop serving at 2am. 4 shots and a couple drinks in, the lightweight takes the wheel (I�d no idea she was the lightweight at the time) and my drunk ass (the worst off of the bunch � deservedly as I pulled the last 7 hour stretch) sits shotgun to ensure she�s driving ok. Probably a bad idea, but we made it safe and alive. I almost convinced out designated drunk driver to jump into the pool on the way into the apartment, but I bitched out and convinced her to put her shoes back on after I realized she was really jumping in and how bad an idea it was.
It was incredible how highly they regard my opinion on things. They asked all sorts of shit about business methods, programming, design methods, etc. I was surprised considering how talented and well accomplished they all seem to be (My cousins and A�s girl are starting a business together) that they�d actually find it valuable to pick my brain. Ego trip to say the least.
The 20 hours to Phoenix flew by pretty comfortably as well. All up until about 5 hours from Phoenix. I was about 4 or 5 hours into my stretch and just about to wake G to take over when he got a call. His grandfather passed away. G was devastated. I stopped and grabbed the most caffeinated shit I could find. The man needed to be off the wheel for a bit. G was feeling guilty about leaving. I let him man up for a bit. Handed him the Ipod so he could put on what he needed to and kept my eyes on the road.
�What up man, you want to stop or some shit?�
�Na man, I�m alright. Just feeling really guilty for leaving�
� few minutes go by. �My Way� by Sinatra is blaring �
�I�m not sure where your head is man. And I feel what you�re saying about feeling guilty, but your family was really proud of you for leaving. They�re really excited that you�re finally out and on your own shit now. And I don�t know you�re grandfather, but judging by your family, I figure he�d feel the same.�
�Thanks man. I think he would be�
�I mean, if you want to feel guilty then do that, but I think it�s unwarranted.�
He put his hat back over his face like he did while he was sleeping and sat back for a while. Sinatra played on. I admired the vast starry night and we drove on.
We got to Phoenix by about 4pm. G was in a better mood but in dire need of a drink and some smoke. I�ve got too much shit on my head right now to smoke, but I was right on the quickly offered beer. K (our Phoenix host) was cool as hell. I�d been working with him for about 2 years and it was good to meet him in person.
Along with LA nearing and all the thoughts that come with that, the New York thoughts started rolling in a bit. My head needed a break. And suddenly, G gets annoying as shit. Demanding a means of getting to Chicago ASAP on little to no money. And he was completely stoned and a lil drunk so entirely unhelpful. I got to looking and found some options and he shot them all down. Eventually, my patience fuse was near the gun powder. It was time to diffuse.
I went and had a beer and a smoke. Didn�t say shit but G realized he was beginning to get on my shit. He called his sister and she took care of everything. Perfect. I finished my beer and calmed a bit. My thoughts began to dance in tune rather than rioting. I got into a good conversation with G and K, hardly noticed that they were stoned and I wasn�t. We were sitting under the gorgeous night sky. Chilly but not cold night, killing beers, chain smoking, telling old stories and whatnot. Then I got the call that sparked my last post. Bittersweet. Good to hear her voice, bad to hear what it was saying. There was no way for me to clear my head, so I got the drama out through my fingers. Otherwise there would have been no sleep.
We were out at 7am. I could have driven the whole stretch, but by the time we hit Cochella I just wanted a break. I woke G and we were off. By the time I woke up we were in the city headed to my cousins.
We unpacked the car and within 3 hours G was on a plane back home. On the way back form the airport, I GOT FUCKING REAR ENDED. I�ve been here for 5 hours and I�m grabbing for the insurance and registration. God DAMNIT. We pulled over, I jumped out to make sure the girls were ok and G�s car was cool. All�s well. Good. Fuck off. Ok, I didn�t say fuck off. I politely told her to be careful and a have a great day while waving to her equally unattractive passenger.
Met up with people and I�m not sure how I feel about all that just yet. More on that when I figure it all out.
Hardly a creative post, buy my head�s way too fucking twisted to lay things out very well right now. I just want a damned apartment of my own. And a kitchen!! Yes, a kitchen. And a living room - my own living room. Oh, and to be near the beach. Fuck yeah man. God damn motherfuck shit. I should go sit in a bathtub and polish off a bottle of something bumping drinking music. I think that would balance me a bit. Of course it would probably freak my cousin�s roommate out. Maybe a fifth of something on the beach and just pass out there for a couple days.
Yeah yeah, drinking�s not an answer, but it�s not not an answer either. And until I start coming up with answers, I need to slow my thoughts down a bit.