workin' nine to forever

Since moving to Wisconsin and back, major life-changing moments have occured. We have a new president, gay people can get married in Iowa now, your mom probably started Twittering, the world went ape-shit over a Scottish woman with a nice voice and overgrown eyebrows, and that reality show on TLC with all the kids? The one with the sextuplets? As of Monday, it's now, Jon Minus Kate Plus Eight.

But if wondering how the drama of a "regular, ordinary family" would unfold, hasn't kept my mind off the fact that I still needed a job, then the daily bills and the constant phone calls from credit card representatives have.

Luckily, I found a job. One of those, florescent-lit, creaky computer chair-sitting, mysterious weird cabbage and feet smelling corner, call center jobs. It was easy to find and even easier to get, since apparently, they'll hire anyone. The guy I sat next to while I waited for an interview, told me he was so hungover he felt like "throwing up chunks." The guy currently sits next to me in my training class.

The training isn't so bad. The trainer, on the other hand? He hates socializing, hates any other kind of music than Led Zepplin, enjoys dressing up as a warrior and having battles with other Dundgeon and Dragon nerds, drinks 3 pots of coffee a day, smokes 2 packs a day and eats a pound of bacon every Sunday. He's 44 years old, but looks like he's in his mid-60s. If there was ever a need for a poster child of how not to live life, he would be the perfect candidate.

And though this job offers great medical and dental benefits with an even greater discount on Verizon Wireless phone service, I don't see myself hanging around here too long. The people are nice and friendly and a job indoors is always better than one outdoors, but it seems as if I'll be working with people who don't want to amount to anything.

Two people in my class, who've already had previous call center experience have said, they regret leaving their call center, because working in a call center is the best job ever and there's no need to work anywhere else. They've even given up going to school, because working at a call center "pays great and doesn't require a degree." There are even some employees who've stuck around for more than five years, earning an average of $12 an hour and have no plans to move on up. Mediocrity suits them fine.

They say birds of a feather, flock together, and if that's true, I have to get out as soon as I can. Leaving an actual paying job isn't smart, especially in this economy, so, the question that comes to mind is...when?

i'm not a celebrity, get me out of here

The other week, I asked my brother if I could borrow his car to drive to a birthday party. His response?

"You're THE LAST person on earth, I would let drive my car."

The last? As if. That means the woman who pushes her shopping cart with the talking stuffed animals downtown has priority of driving my brothers car before me! I had to get back at my brother. I had to get my hands on something I knew he would want, so that I too, could say, "you're the last person on earth I would give this to."

The Ed Hardy Fashion Show was coming up at Pearl Nightclub, and I asked my friend Madelaine if she could ask her club promoter friend, Randy, to put my name on the VIP list. It was the perfect thing to hold over my brother's head.

The problem was, Madelaine left to sunny Mexico for a wedding before, I could get all the deets and I had no way of knowing if whether or not my name was on the VIP list. Until Saturday morning when I received an email at Facebook from an unknown Facebook-er, telling me, in so many words, if I was interested in attending the Ed Hardy Fashion Show as one of the regular people models. Madelaine did come through for me! Although I would have much preferred to just have my name on the guest list, being asked to be a model was absolutely perfect.

I called Madelaine's friend Benni and met him at the Ed Hardy store on University. It was a mad house. There was a stretch, white Hummer limosuine blasting music as a red carpet was unrolled inside the store. It was a casting call for the Ed Hardy Fashion Show. I was not going to audition to be a model. I explained to Benni, I just wanted to go to the party. He explained, he thought I had "a look" and that I was already in the show, but they needed more people than me, hence the reason for the casting call. Then he asked, if I could walk down the red carpet and show people how it was done.

I'm not a model, nor do I think I could ever pass as one. I don't strut when I walk. At least, I don't think I do. But I knew, if I was going to model Ed Hardy, I'd have to act confident and despite how much I was shaking and how fast my heart was beating, I somehow managed to walk the length of the store, front and back, ending with a spin and pose, before feeling the bile rise in my throat. Next to eating in that Asian restaurant in L.A.'s 'fashion district', this was the scariest thing I've ever done in my life!

As I was being fitted for my outfit, I overheard one of the girl models bragging about how she knew she would win a spot, over her two friends because, she was "the beautiful one out of the group." With beautiful friends like that, who needs ugly enemies? Or something like that. It was sad, that this regular person model would rather be in the limelight, then with her friends. I didn't want to be like that. I would much rather be hanging out with my friends, having fun and checking out the clothes I could only wish to wear on a daily basis.

So, I called Madelaine's friend Benni and told him, something came up and I could no longer fulfill my duties as a model. That's when I learned, Benni wasn't Madelaine's friend. He was, in fact, a complete and total stranger, who was searching random people on Facebook asking them if they were interested in modeling for the Ed Hardy show, in the hopes of trying to find a date. In fact, the 'email' he sent, was a friend request, but I was too excited to actually notice. He was in no way involved in the casting decision, being a promoter for a local gym, which was sponsoring the Ed Hardy fashion show.

Which means...I made the cut, by myself. Me! I did it. I walked down a red carpet by myself. And the worst part is...I gave it up! I gave it up. And I just found out, I probably could have kept my outfit or at least part of it...this is so not the way to start off a new chapter.

home sweet home

After a goodbye dinner on the patio of La Pearla with my new Milwaukee friends, I picked up Mike Lightyear Sr.'s Jaguar, packed it with all my knick knack patty whacks and by dawn's early light, I was off on Route 66. 

My first stop was in Chicago, IL, where I picked up my road trip buddy, Michelle. It was also where the Mother Road began. Cyrus Avery initiated Route 66 as a way to expand his oil business and by 1926, people began to travel west, in search of hopes, dreams, and the start of a new life. 

Our first stop was in Chenoa, IL where we ate at a small mom and pop diner and then headed out to the small town of Divernon, just outside of Springfield. It was so weird to see such a small town exist. I really thought they were the creation of Hollywood folklore. 

But, no. The library had about three thousand books total and the only "electronic store" in town featured a washer and dryer in the display window. 

We stopped in St. Louis, MO for the night, saw the arch, walked down Laclede's Landing 

and before heading out the next morning, we ate at Eat-Rite, an institution of Route 66. 

The small diner only has 15 stools and if you ever get the chance to stop on in, it's well worth the wait. They cook with real old-fashioned butter. Cholesterol be damned!

Traveling down the old and winding route, Michelle and I saw the landmark Chains of Rocks Bridge, which once linked Illinois to Missouri, crossing the Mississippi River,

Jellystone Park, home of Yogi Bear,

and the Blue Whale Amusement Park. 

Built as an anniversary gift, the whale has two slides and the fin doubles as a high board to dive off of. It was the ultimate stop in Catoosa, OK during the 50's and 60's for families, while traveling west. 

Past Oklahoma City, we stopped at the Route 66 Museum in Clinton, OK and then the Sandhills Curiosity Shop,
where Michelle and I met Harley and Annabelle, two energetic, outgoing and inspirational old hippies, who met in 1986 and together they've run the curiosity shop in the small town of Erick, OK.

The entire shop is filled with antiques and Route 66 memorabilia from yesteryear, but not a single thing is for sale.
They live, solely based on the kindness of strangers from all around the world, who donate money to them, so they can continue living and entertaining people with their "redneck shtick". 

The two "Mediocre Music Makers" have even been the inspiration for Disney ImaginEARS,
who are planning on designing a Cars theme land in Disney's California Adventure Park, using their shop as part of the queue. 

After making lifelong friends with the happy hippie couple, Michelle and I drove past The Leaning Tower of Texas

and the World's Largest Cross,

before staying the night in Tuccumcari, NM, a tiny six mile town that hasn't changed much since the golden days of Route 66. The Sahara Motel,

La Cita Taco Shop

and even the Blue Swallow Motel,

which inspired the Cozy Cone Motel in Cars, are still around. The owner, Bill, a retired electrician from Las Vegas

took over the motel when he saw it slowly fading away and restored it to it's original neon glory. 

We stopped for lunch at the El Rancho Hotel in Gallup, NM,

once the hideaway for famous stars

who stayed while filming classic western movies.

Mid-afternoon, we arrived in Flagstaff, AZ to the Hotel Monte Vista,

enjoying a cocktail in the hotel lounge.

Scenes from the classic black and white film, Casablanca were actually filmed in the lounge and as Michelle and I sipped vodka martini's we couldn't help but say, "Play it again, Sam..."

Through picturesque Sedona

and metropolis Phoenix,

we made it to Tucson a little past midnight and right on Mother's Day. It was the absolute perfect present. The return of a prodigal son and a prodigal daughter, what mother wouldn't be estatic? 

Two days later, Michelle and I were back on the road,

re-visiting new old friends and seeing other sites we missed along the way including the world famous, Cadillac Ranch,

The Big Texan Restaurant

and Ted Drewes Frozen Custard.

Being on the road, I learned a few things about myself. I learned how to get a hotel room without using my ID or credit card (trust me, it can be done!) change a tire (first and last time!)

and I learned the warning signs for a tornado watch. That was a major one. Not being from tornado country, Michelle and I had no idea we were driving through a tornado warning, until the freeway looked like an above ground roaring river and people actually started to park under the overheads.

That was scary. But obviously, we made it out okay, or else I wouldn't be back home typing this blog post. 

The great thing about being back home is that everyone and everything I left behind was waiting for me with open arms. Absolutely nothing has changed. The bad thing about being back home? Absolutely nothing has changed. It's like I never left.

There's a saying in French, je prévois de vous promener à pied sans but sans un plan, which means to walk around aimlessly without a plan, and I might be doing that for a while, to clear my head and let everything I've seen and done soak in, before starting the next chapter in my life. It's kinda nice not knowing my next move. And it's also nice to know, no matter how far away I may roam, I'll always be welcomed back home.