Day 4: Adolfo!

Saturday was our final day in Madison and I had big plans to hit all the spots on my list that we hadn't found yet. We started with lunch on State Street, desperate to find some Greek food. We had tried to get Greek food the past couple of days, but the restaurants were always closed. There was some terrible fast food gyro place called The Parthenon, but we weren't that desperate yet. Luckily, it turned out that the Greek restaurants just kept weird hours. When we arrived for the lunch rush, The Mediterranean Cafe was in full swing. By the time we had finished ordering and filling out a check (again, no love for the debit card) our food was ready and waiting for us at a small table in the corner. It was the best food I've ever eaten. Falafel, Greek taboule salad, hummus and rice. We finished it off with baklava for dessert and were more than ready to love Madison again. I didn't take pictures of our food here because the restaurant was crazy cramped. I was too afraid of other people getting angry that they were in the picture, so I just kept my head down.

After that we found the bookstore that Steven had been waiting for. Avol's Books at Canterbury is a massive used bookstore. The back has a great children's section with princesses and magical forests painted on the walls and is built like a castle. I would've loved going to a place like that when I was little. I still remember the Goodnight Moon exhibit that was set up in the Salina mall one Christmas when I was 6 or 7. It held such magic for me for so many years. Later, when we went back to the mall during some Debate trip, I was shocked to find that it was just an average mall. Nothing exciting. No magical special stores or displays. Just a Gap and a kitchen store. I think it's important for stores to have something unique for kids - especially bookstores. It just adds so much to the experience, and in my case, that memory is still with me. Steven did not find what he was looking for - an old english version of Beowulf - but I found lots of things that I could not afford to get. I also found several used copies of Who Will Run the Frog Hospital, and was again confronted with the dilemma of buying multiple copies (though different editions) of Moore's books. I opted against it, but I was a little peeved that I had purchased it for full price from the feminist bookstore. Live and learn. Steven picked up a copy of Berryman's poems and we got a collection of new short stories discovered in MFA programs around the country. I also got a copy of Susan Minot's Lust, which is one of my favorite collections, much to Steven's dismay. Apparently it is also his high school girlfriend's favorite collection, which happens more often than you'd think. I have scared Steven more than once with similarities to Hallie - once with a letter from Pratt School of Design about their Library Science Program (Hallie goes there.) And then again when I put an Aimee Mann song on a mix for him. The same one that she listened to ad nauseum while they were together. I could tell him about all the times he does or says or listens to things that Karson did, but I keep that to myself. In some ways, we all date the same person over and over and over. Either that, or everyone is less unique than they care to admit. Either way, I'm still a Minot fan.

I dragged Steven out of the store so that we could get to the Overture Center in time for our matinee production of The Drowsy Chaperone. When I was searching for concerts and plays in Madison that weekend, this show came up on my radar and I had heard nothing about it. After doing a quick wikipedia search, I discovered that it had been popularized by Sutton Foster. This, clearly, was fate. I have been to New York once, and saw four shows. None of them made a lasting impression on me except for Thoroughly Modern Millie. I bought the soundtrack, I played it constantly and memorized all the nuances. I practiced "Gimme, Gimme" and fantasized about using it in my audition for AMDA. It's still my favorite roadtrip music. And the lead in this musical, was Sutton Foster. I loooove her. Anything she touches is gold, and even though she was no longer traveling with the show (she's currently starring in Shrek the Musical) I knew it would be wonderful. So Steven bought the super expensive tickets in the balcony and we headed in, with no idea of what to expect.

It was fantastic. The story takes place in a rundown New York City apartment. The narrator, a young, depressed man who likes to escape into his showtune records for the afternoon, guides us through the completely ridiculous plot of The Drowsy Chaperone. It is light, silly and full of wonderful music and just the right amount of tap dancing. And the female lead, while not Sutton, still sang like her, so a worthwhile substitute. Steven liked it even more than I did, fully solidifying his role as best boyfriend ever. We celebrated the success of the show with yet another trip to Jamba Juice.

For the afternoon we visited a few more shops downtown, but were disappointed by most. Saturday afternoon is not a good time to go shopping in small boutiques. You can't get anywhere or see anything. It was a mad house. We finally left State for the comforts of deserted thrift stores and antique shops. Unfortunately the antique shops were a little too deserted. Who closes at 5pm on a Saturday? Apparently the entire antique shop industry. We tried at our luck at St. Vincent de Paul thrift store - the Madison equivalent of the Salvation Army - and found a couple of bargains. Steven begged and pleaded for a VHS copy of Sister Act and I found an orange skirt from Express for 3 bucks. Score! I also found an adorable dress but it was still 33 dollars. Seriously? I was tempted to boycott the whole story based on that price tag, but Steven really wanted the movie.

For dinner that night we tried to eat in our neck of the woods. We found a Thai place and were seated very promptly. Then we were completely ignored for twenty minutes. We got our menus, but nothing else, and never saw anyone again. When we got up to leave, the hostess thanked us, though there was a little bit of confusion in her voice. We took the opportunity to check out Willy St - the proclaimed "alternative" area of Madison. We found the Thai place on our list and got water AND menus before being ignored for twenty minutes. Small victories. I think it must just be something about Thai restaurants. By the time we ordered, we were starving, which caused us to mistakenly order two of the world's largest and unappetizing spring rolls in the history of the world.


I got halfway through mine and was more full than I had been on the entire trip. Which was a shame, because then my pad thai came and it was about 8 million times yummier than the spring rolls and I had no room to eat it. We tried to save it and bring it home with us, but unfortunately, the cooler was not enough to preserve it and the stench was unbearable by the time we got back to Manhattan.

If only I had known!


We spent our last evening in Madison watching Family Guy on Hulu and drinking frosty Dr. Pepper from the hotel fridge. It had been a wonderful trip, and I was really dreading the 10 hour drive back to Manhattan, work, school, laundry and facing up to my post-vacation bank statement. Steven and I have made official plans to spend the summer after Grad school backpacking through Europe, so at least the dream of that keeps me going.

How do adults survive life without a Spring Break?

Day 3: Scandinavia!

Our initial plan for Day 3 was to drive an hour to Milwaukee, check out a Great Lake and visit a museum that Steven had discovered in his "365 places you should see before you die" calendar that I had given him for Christmas. Steven has this habit of mentioning a new place for us to live every day. We should move to Morocco! We should move to Corpus Christie! We should move to Alaska! Etc, etc. It can be triggered by any bit of stimuli that he picks up throughout the day. Maybe it came to him in a dream. Maybe it was the background of a McDonald's commercial. Maybe he heard someone say a word similar to state name. The sky's the limit. I have learned, after 16 months, to not get freaked out and start planning our futures around these ever changing plans. Rather, I like to influence them, to see how outlandish they can get. Thus, the desk calendar.

However, like the rest of our plans, we never got to Milwaukee, the great lake, or a museum of any kind. On Friday morning Steven slept until noon, and I watched The Office and Grey's Anatomy on my laptop, while drinking Dr. Pepper for breakfast. It was better than anything I could've planned. After sending away Housekeeping 4 times, we finally embraced the day and decided to drop in on the Indian restaurant that had caused us so much grief. Steven's car, however, did not think much of this plan. Apparently the indestructible beast is starting to show his age. Halfway down the Beltline Highway, I felt a small shift beneath us. I thought nothing of it, as Iggy is constantly bumping around and I just turn up the music to block it out. Luckily, Steven is the main driver of our relationship. He pulled over to the side of the road and I immediately assumed that we had popped a tire, run out of gas, or left something on the roof. It is always a safe bet that my assumptions are wrong. If you find yourself lost, with the decision of turning left or right, always ask me. 100% of the time. I will choose the wrong answer, eliminating the need for any guesswork. It turns out that the car had slipped out of gear. I don't really understand this, given that the car is an automatic, but that's what Steven says, so I believe him. The car I first learned to drive was a Crown Victoria. It, too, had a problem with gears. You would have to line up the gear with the letter marked R to go forward. N meant reverse and 1 meant park. Or something like that. I don't remember the order and the Google image search I just did yielded nothing useful. The main idea is that the letters there to help you, didn't help. You just had to memorize the car's new broken language, and drive accordingly. The good thing about Steven's new car language was that I was released from any driving responsibility for the rest of the trip. I had put in my two hours from Wendy's to Iowa City and now I had a foolproof excuse to stay in the passenger seat. Again, better than I could've ever planned.

We finally got to the Indian restaurant after a few more trips to the side of the road. We arrived just at the tail end of their lunch buffet, and tried to wheedle our way into a free meal. Indian women, however, are immune to Steven's charms and my sheepish shrugs. We got a table and ordered drinks before taking a peek at the buffet. Can you guess what's coming? Oh yes. Another mistake. The rice was crunchy, the chicken dry, the curry clumpy the whole thing picked over and less than appetizing. It was my first experience with Indian food, but I'm going to give it the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was not the top of the line. Steven tried a bunch of curries and I ate rice and some strange meatball dish. At least this way my stomach would be ready for a real meal later on. We paid and left, regretting the decision, the food and the amount of time it took.

Steven had scheduled a campus tour at 3:30. I had been trying to get out of it from the first moment he mentioned it. I've given campus tours for three years. I knew that 3:30 on the Friday of spring break would not be a fun, informative, or energetic experience. It would be a waste of time and, as a former tour guide, I felt it my duty to save our poor guide the extra work of entertaining the two of us, who only wanted to find out where Lorrie Moore's office was. We got to campus and found another coin operated parking garage. What is the point of having garages with meters? Isn't the purpose of a garage so that you can pay with your card and guess the toll booth person's name? Ridiculous. The campus, at first sight, was massive. Buildings, buildings, everywhere. We found the Union on accident and went in to try to find a map and someone to give us change. The first floor of the Union was like a Court House. Big pillars, expensive old furniture, reception desks and long hallways. It was also strangely quiet. We headed downstairs at the advice of the first reception desk. It was like a completely different world. According to Steven, it was Scandinavia. I just thought it felt like a train station. There were people everywhere, souvenir shops and college memorabilia. The food court wound around different pillars, weaving in between the shops and information counters. We stopped to get quarters at a coffee shop, but they cheerlessly would only give us 2 dollars worth. It was a zoo, and I didn't like it one bit. "Is this how LSU was?" I asked, wondering if K-State was the only campus that didn't terrify me. "No. LSU was exactly like K-State." He answered, looking as confused as I felt. Though, he was still imagining himself in Scandinavia, so we weren't really on the same wavelength. We got a few more dollars turned into meter money and headed back upstairs to the quiet calm of deserted hallways.

Here's a picture of me, catching my breath outside the mayhem. You can tell it's me, because my eyes aren't open. This is one of the main reasons that most of my vacation pictures are of other people.



Steven took this picture of the ceiling, whispering Scandinavia, over and over again, under his breath. While he was taking it, I backed into three people trying to come in. Stress makes me awkward. It's one of my many gifts.



Across the street from the Union we found a library and a campus map. I liked the first floor of the library, as it included a reading room. The reading room had popular fiction in paperback, board games, a coffee shop and movies to rent. This is something that I think Hale sorely needs. While I agree that it is primarily for academic purposes, you've also got to cater to the demographic. But that's just the hip librarian in me talking. Someday... someday. We found a map and looked up Lorrie Moore's office number. The computers in the reading room were all macs. How did apple get to be such a status symbol for our generation? We left the library and headed back to the car, determined to find a long-range parking garage now that we were armed with the correct currency. As we pulled in, we were stopped at the booth to get a ticket. Hmm, that's interesting. Then we pulled into a spot and saw - no meters. Naturally. Now that we had turned the rest of our cash into quarters, we finally found the parking garage that you could pay in cash. Or check. Or credit. Was there ever any doubt? If you have been following along you will also not be shocked at what happened next. When exiting the building, we realized that I had been reading the map wrong. We needed to go back the direction that we came. In fact, we needed to go back to the Library where we got the map, because Lorrie Moore's office is in the building attached to the Library. Right above our heads. I sincerely hope that you, dear reader, are not as shocked by this as we were. I am constantly impressed that I continue to survive.

And now, here we were. Standing in front of the elevator, ready to rise to the 6th floor, the land of Lorrie Moore. We had our books. We were brimming with love and nervous energy and geeky enthusiasm about meeting our favorite author. I mean, this is the woman who brought us together, in a way. We were reading Birds of America in Imad's creative writing workshop. On the second day of class, Steven made a comment about the story "Williing" that I had been waiting to make, but he beat me to it. And it was that comment that made me realize a. He was the smartest person in the class and b. I would hate him for it. It is that hatred that made me full of delight when he sent me the two word facebook email about my second story. And it was that two word facebook email that convinced me that we were soulmates. 16 months later, those two words are still sticking. So naturally, when we rode the elevator and arrived outside her door, the whole place was deserted. Dark. Locked. Not a breath of life. She was on Spring Break too. We hadn't run into her in Scandinavia. We hadn't seen her eating crappy Indian food. She was not one of the teenage boys who had been watching basketball for 13 hours at Old Chicago. For all we knew she was in Manhattan, KS, looking for her favorite readers. Of course she wasn't doing that, but it was the only fantasy left.

So Lorrie, if you are googling yourself and find this blog - we came to see you. The windows outside your office are very pretty. It was surprisingly difficult to find copies of your books in local bookstores. And that girl Heather who is in your old office - well, we didn't care too much for her publication on the table. Come back soon.



After the disappointment of the lack of Lorrie, we headed down to State St. for some shopping, coffee and Jamba Juice. It took me a long time to get the hang of the stores - I tried to enter the Goodwill Boutique three times and kept ending up in the poster store next door. But eventually we found some nice shops, interesting people, and quality coffee. I lured Steven into a massive used clothing store called "Ragstock" and he helped me search the racks for a purple t-shirt to go with the dress he picked out for me. After 45 minutes we both couldn't stop sneezing, so I took what I couldn't live without and we had our first shopping bag of the trip. This was important, because Madison is a hippy liberal town and they don't like to give out plastic shopping bags. This meant that my purchases were kept stashed in my purse, which was already filled with the Lorrie Moore books that had not been signed. Feeling relieved that I had finally found a store on my list, we spied the Jamba Juice across the street and practically skipped toward the sunny land of expensive blended fruit.


Every day is improved with a 5 dollar smoothie. After the Jamba Juice rejuvenation, we hit a few bookstores, including a place called "Shakti" which was one of those annoying Eastern ideology shops that sells expensive elephant pillows, yoga mats and books on psychedelics. State St. was littered with these places, but we continued to be lured in by the colors and the interesting shop names. I also tried to find some dresses at an Indian dress boutique, but the owner was a frightening man who pulled the dressing room curtain out behind a wall of dresses and demanded that I try something on. Having a dressing room in the middle of the merchandise is not a great selling method. We also ventured into Madison's feminist bookstore - "A Room of One's Own" and found no Virginia Woolf, but the first copies of Lorrie Moore's books that we had found on the whole trip. I bought Who Will Run the Frog Hospital? which now completes the set. She has a new book coming out in September, and after that I don't know what I'm going to do. Collect different editions? Buy more for friends? Find someone new to love? It's a daunting possibility.

For dinner that evening we went for Sushi at Takara. Sushi, like Jamba Juice, will make everything better. We had miso soup with tofu, edamame, and a feast of Takara's finest rolls. I've never been a fan of sashimi. This might make me only a pseudo fan of sushi, but it makes me too happy to care.

Hello, happiness.


We were going to try to catch "Doubt" at the Majestic Theatre down the street, but we decided to end on a high note and took our stuffed selves over to Michael's custard for dessert. (It was not as good as Freddy's. And more expensive.) We ended the evening with basketball and crankiness. It's almost required, on a 10 hour roadtrip, and 4 days together that we squabble at least a little. We chose Day 3 for our squabbling, which ended with a trip to Wal-Mart at 1 am in the snow. When I went to sleep it was 40 degrees. When I woke up, big flakes were falling and we could not get through the night without a bag of potato chips and more cans of Dr. Pepper. The fridge in the room was really cold, you see, and in the morning, we would pour the pop into those little hotel cups and it would have this thin layer of ice at the top, like a homemade icee. We needed that. And so, after arriving at Wal-Mart and realizing that it was not open 24 hours, and that there were a random group of people huddled together under the awning, waiting for something we weren't privy to, we found the nearest gas station, got what we needed and fell asleep for good.

Day 3 was not remarkable, and State St. was not the magical place that I had envisioned. But it is still the city of Lorrie, and therefore, something special.

Day 2: Lunch is OVER

The drive from Iowa City to Madison was really pleasant, low traffic and nothing like the drive from Little Rock to Oxford. I think I kept my eyes closed on that entire drive, just imagining the thousands of semis swarming around us like paparazzi. Iowa is much more deserted, and therefore, lovely. I had printed off directions from Google Maps and they continue to be as unreliable as ever. To get from Iowa City to Madison, they led us to turn into a factory off road, drive along a field, find 62nd St. hidden behind a dumpster, and then rejoin traffic on the same road that we had left 5 miles earlier. The only way I realized that we were even back on the right road was because the Semi we had been following had been graffittied with a giant "WOW" across the back end. From then on we abandoned the directions and let WOW control our destiny.

I liked Dubuque, it had a big bridge and a pretty river. That's pretty much all it takes for me to be fascinated. Ooh, the Mississippi. Ooh, we're up high. Ooh, that's an old factory that looks like the Sugar Beet building. Very easy to please. We could've vacationed in Dubuque and I would've been thrilled. Other interesting sites were the dairy farms of Wisconsin. They really do look like every dairy farm I've ever put together in a jigsaw puzzle. Silver and red, rounded top, like when you're taught how to draw 3D shapes in art class. My cylinders always turned into dairy barns. Maybe that should be a new criteria for our vacations. Jigsaw puzzles come to life! Again - Easy to please.

We listened to David Sedaris' When I am Engulfed in Flames on the rest of the roadtrip. Sedaris performs it himself and I thought it was the perfect road book. It's silly and episodic, and if you fall asleep, your dreams take on a bizarre combination of what your ears pick up and your subconscious interprets. I highly recommend it.

We pulled into Madison around 2pm, and checked in at the Road Star Inn. The hotel was not as nice as our Iowa City accommodations, but cheap and quiet, and close to a massive Mini-Golf course, so we decided it would be okay. They did have one really neat feature that Steven and I enjoyed immensely. Every night the desk clerks would show two in-house movies. The first night it was Ringu and The Aviator. The second night we only caught the second which turned out to be Stigmata. And then the third was The Rundown and Ringu again, I believe. We never watched any of the movies, but it was exciting to catch one at the end of the credits and then wait with baited breath as we saw the movie eject, and the new disk icon blink in the corner of the screen. It cushioned the blow of the terrible movie picks. The first night when we got back to the hotel after dinner, The Aviator had just ended, but they still had the title screen up. Steven called and requested that they start the movie again, but he had turned on the commentary by mistake. So then we watched from our room as the clerk attempted to navigate the screen to get it back to the normal feature. By the time he got it fixed, we were over the excitement and fell asleep after 5 minutes. Has anyone made it through the 3.5 hours? Is it worth it?

For our first afternoon in the city, we headed downtown to find food and the famous State Street. I had a bunch of maps and printed directions, which were rendered useless when I realized that Steven is one of those magic men that can see the name of a street and instantly know how the rest of the town is layed out. How do people do this? We basically spent all three days in the same area of Madison, and by the end of the weekend, I still couldn't figure out how to get back to the hotel.

Madison is set up very similar to Oxford, with the college/artsy area of town set up in a box around the Capitol building. Here's Steven, modeling the Capitol and my terrible photo framing abilities.

We were plagued by our lack of cash yet again, as we searched for parking downtown. There were plenty of spaces available in the parking garages, and they were actually very affordable - they just required you to feed the meters. Though we had plenty of dollar bills at that point, we were completely out of change of any kind. Steven finally wrestled into a spot behind a utilities van so we walked through the maze of apartments before getting to the business side of things. There is lots of student housing around the capitol building, because the campus is on the other side of State St. They were all old houses with rows of mailboxes on wooden porches, bicycles locked to every post in sight. It's what I always imagined a college town should look like. I have very idealistic and romanticized visions of Madison. There are bike lanes! People in hats! That girl is wearing a headband! Etc, etc.

After parking and finding the big building in the center, we set out to find food. Our only goal of the trip was to eat food that we couldn't get in Manhattan. So I made a list of different types of food and restaurants in Madison that were suggested and reviewed by TripAdvisor. (Thanks Pam Beesley. I use TripAdvisor all the time, thanks to your review of Schrute Farms B&B). Of course, along with my completely rockin' directions, nearly half of the restaurants that I found were closed. We settled for Italian, which had been bumped from the list in favor of Indonesian food, but we were hungry and had lost all faith in my preparations at that point.

We were the only ones in the place and the waiters were less than thrilled when we walked in for lunch at 4pm on a Thursday. When Steven asked for a lunch menu, the waiter haughtily informed us that lunch was OVER and we would need to order from the dinner menu. Luckily we were on vacation, and I convinced Steven that on vacation we can have two dinners. Or two lunches. Or two of whatever we wanted. Then they brought us bread and all was forgotten.

Here's Steven showing off his fancy penne pasta with pesto and garlic bread. I got something that sounded familiar but ended up looking like three enchiladas stuffed with spinach and cheese. It was delicious, but after seeing Steven's grown-up meal, I felt like I had just accidentally ordered off the children's menu.



Steven tried to order a Cafe Americano for dessert, but our waiter had never heard of it. Instead, he brought him a cup of espresso and a little pitcher of water so he could make it himself. Fine dining at its finest.

We went back to exploring our area of Madison after that, since our coveted spot behind the electric van expired after two hours. There was a mall close to the hotel that I thought included an Anthropologie and Urban Outfitters, but of course, wrong again. Steven got fancy clothes at Banana Republic and I remembered why I don't like malls. We left, discouraged and cranky and went back to the hotel to catch up on the first day of March Madness.

Here's where first dinner came in handy. By the time we got back from the mall it was close to 9pm, and we were not in the mood for covert parking operations for the second time that day. Steven found out that CampusFoods in Madison includes restaurants other than Gumby's and Domino's, so I got out my trusty list and tried to order from several of them, only to miss the delivery deadline by 30 seconds. We finally settled on Indian food, because I was too tired to fight it. As a compromise, I found Sister Act playing on Lifetime and forced Steven to watch it with me. Force isn't really the right word. He whimpered every time I tried to turn it back to the basketball game. This is the man I love. An hour later, as Whoopi and the girls were entertaining the Pope, we both realized that our food still wasn't delivered. Checked with the front desk - no luck. Called Campus Foods - no answer. Called the Indian restaurant and they were closing up for the night. They had no record of our order. Great. Of course I paid for dinner. With my debit card. Why do I not see the signs and act accordingly? My knowledge is 100% hindsight. After 30 minutes, Steven finally got a real person to answer the Campus Food number and we got the order canceled and the money refunded. However, it was 10:30 and we were beyond ready for second dinner. So, on our very first night in the big wide world of Madison, we ended up at....



Not even 24 hours, and our one goal had failed. Steven is supposed to be making a sad face, but he's still giddy from the pesto at first dinner. And he really likes Sister Act.


At least I can pull off a realistic exhausted face.


At least this way, I got to watch basketball and Steven got to eat a steak. And about a third of the way into our dinner, we both realized that second dinner was a bad idea. Again, you'd think that the whole drama with the Indian food place would've made us realize this earlier. I'm the one who is supposed to notice what the universe is trying to tell me. But no. We didn't realize our mistake until we took the first bite. Magic. As we were leaving, we heard a group of boys boasting that they had been there for 13 hours. March Madness is such a happy time of year.

We ended Day 2 with In-house movie excitement, a trip to the ice machine and sweet, bloated sleep. Gluttonous vacation - is there anything better? I'd like to say that I learned from the mistakes of day one, followed the signs, continued to carry cash and quarters, never got lost, and only ate when I was hungry. But of course, that is someone else's story.

Spring Broke - Day One

I packed up everything the night before we left as I had to pretend to be an adult for 9 more hours and go to work. Longest day of work ever. Of course we were busy, of course there were stupid crises, and of course I was not at my most efficient. Also on this day, I had to forego my lunch break to take a quiz for my Organization of Information class. I tried to sneak away to the Counseling Office, which of course is the only office in the building without an updated computer and didn't have Mozilla downloaded. After an hour and a half, and much needless technical difficulties, I passed, moved on, and rewarded myself with Panda Express for lunch. It was yucky. Never reward yourself with something bad for you. In my experience, it has never EVER worked out. Maybe my stomach is just more sensitive to my conscience. No idea.

Anyway, Steven came to pick me up and we got slushies and went back to the house to make sure we had turned out all the lights and that his computer wasn't hiding out on the front step. All clear and we head out. I have been making Steven listen to Marian Keyes' This Charming Man for the past 3 road trips to Omaha, and so we had to finish that before getting to anything good. If you've read the book, you can relate with Steven's boyish squirming. If not, you should. It's a good Keyes. We stopped at several convenience stores in Topeka, after realizing that neither one of us had even a dollar in cash. Why don't tolls accept debit cards? I haven't carried so much as a quarter since January. Steven finally convinced them (which was no small feat) into admitting that there was a Sunflower Bank in town so that we could get cash without ridiculous ATM fees.

Steven: Do you give cash back?
Conv. Guy: No. There's an ATM behind you.
Steven: Yeah, but I don't want to pay the fee. Is there a Sunflower Bank in town?
Conv. Guy: You're not from town? Creepy leer appears.
Steven: No, is there one nearby?
Conv. Guy: Uh, Gee, I've never even heard of that. What is it again?
Steven: Sunflower Bank
Conv. Guy: Naw man, you should just get cash here. We don't have that.
Steven: They have them all over.
Conv. Guy: Just use ours. It's right there.
Steven: Do you have a phone book? I'll just look it up.
Conv. Guy: Don't do that. There's no bank like that in town. Just get cash here.
Steven: Do you have a phone book or not?
Conv. Guy: Sighs. Fine, I'll look it up. Thumbs through some pages. It's 5 blocks South.

And we win the first battle! The rest of the trip was smooth sailing except for a giant billboard man advertising Terrible Harry's Casino or something like that. It was enormous and grotesque and is the first good advertisement I've seen for not allowing flashing lights on signs. Yuck. We stopped around 11:30 for dinner at Wendy's - Steven wouldn't let us eat at Bennigan's. "But the Monte Cristo!" I said. Apparently not everyone likes deep fat fried sandwiches layered in powdered sugar. Whatever. The Wendy's was abandoned except for one worker who could not, bless him, operate the drive-thru speaker button to save his life. We were worried about him until we saw a car parked in front of us and an older guy peeking in the windows of the restaurant. We get our food, all is well, and the guy comes rushing up to our car and sticks his head in the window, ranting and raving about not getting a straw. Steven and I put on our "don't mess with our straw" faces and the guy whimpers about having waited 5 minutes already. It was animalistic, the way he was hunched, fists clenched, jonesin' for his Wendy's straw. We got out and hid at a gas station until he drove away. Creatures of the night in Iowa are particularly creepy.

We switched there and I drove the final two hours to Iowa City, our stopping point for the evening. Iowa City is the land of Denis Johnson, the elitist Iowa Workshop, and Steven's old friend Colin. Having read Jesus' Son, I was a little disappointed to not see meth labs, heroine needles and hipsters laying in ditches, clutching their moleskins and reciting drunken poetry. Actually, the town seemed really nice, quiet and simple, free of giant roads, big buildings or other aggressive big city landscapes. We must've been on the outskirts. I like to sleep in a quiet part of the town. There's just something about being around other people who are asleep that puts me at ease. I like the lazy areas of the world, where people are content and have a little room to breathe. The hotel was about 8 million times nicer than the hotel we stayed at in Little Rock. That was the first night of our Oxford trip last year, and I think it set us on an uneasy course. Last year, Steven spent the first night puking in the tiny disgusting bathroom, while I tried to keep the windows shut so I didn't see the three men skulking back and forth in front of the door. Last year, the TV got three channels and was nailed to the wall. This year we had a clean room, with a TV and an armoire, and there were no gangs of men sitting in the bed of their pick-ups outside our door. Despite the Johnson letdown, it was a huge improvement.

The next morning, I slept in, exhausted from my 2 hours of driving, and Steven had coffee with a high school friend. I caught the second half of the Today show and what a joke! They had some segment about making your clothes high-fashion. Apparently exposed zippers are all the rage so you can now buy zippers with double stick tape and just attach them to your boring basics to give it some spice. This is what passes as acceptable television. I just hope no one else was watching. We left Iowa City with bagels from Bruegger's and Steven's first Naked Juice and set out on the final leg of our adventure.

To be continued... and with pictures! I have got to get better at taking pictures on vacation. I had this blog in mind the whole time, and still only came back with 8 photos. Grrrr.

Official notice

I am home from Madison.

It was big and fabulous and I have a new favorite restaurant called The Mediterranean Cafe. Most terrifying and terrific meal of my life.

It is Spring Break in Library School so I'm on week 2 of freedom. Tonight Steven and I are going bowling and watching American Idol. Do you love Anoop yet? You should. This week is Motown, which means karaoke heaven.

I am also Numero Uno in my bracket on Facebook. So far, Utah is the only team to let me down.

I'm wearing my first new shirt that I got at a Goodwill "boutique" in Madison. I put it on this morning and realized that one of the sleeves is missing the elastic at the end. So I have one drape sleeve and one elastic sleeve. I didn't notice until I got to work. I've decided it's more endearing than ridiculous.

And finally... I'm coming home this weekend! Hope for snow and blizzard conditions so that I can be trapped in Garden City for an extra day.

Off to a land that I know not well

"There were moments bristling with deadness, when she looked out at her life and went, "What?" Or worse, feeling interrupted and tired, "Wha—?"
— Lorrie Moore

Steven and I leave for Madison in eleven - that's right - ELEVEN! - minutes.

Our plans include a great lake, a big museum, an Ice Age trail, Indonesian food, The Drowsy Chaperone at the Overture Theater, Wisconsin's most happening farmer's market and a plethora of road hours and books on mp3.

Pictures and stories to come.

I will never ever give up Spring Break. No matter how big I am.

Sunday funday

Every Sunday we shirk our class and work responsibilities and spend the day doing whatever we want. Last Sunday we slept in, missed church because of the stupid time change, ate sugar cereal in our pajamas, played tennis, ate greasy food and played trivia at Bobby T's, watched Citizen Kane and Milk and went to bed late. It was a perfect day of fun, and made it ever so much harder to re-join the working world on Monday. But this means that we have officially begun our quest to become more cinematically aware. We are starting at the top of AFI's top 100 movies list and working our way down. I was very surprised by Citizen Kane, having no idea about it except for witty asides the Gilmore Girls have made. On the whole, I enjoyed it much more than I thought I would. I love watching classic movies because the whole world makes more sense after. It's like I've been going through life, collecting references that I had no idea were references. It's like getting my cultural sight back, one tiny piece at a time. This weekend we're watching The Godfather or Casablanca, depending on which AFI list we choose to follow.

Milk was the cheap movie at the union this weekend and I loved it. For some reason, the screen quality of the projector wasn't great, and they couldn't figure out how to turn off the English subtitles, but it made no difference. Sean Penn is so good about getting you to love him. I wish he would just act all the time, so that I could only know him as his characters. That's an odd thing to wish, and probably a little bit heartless, but he's just so good at being people other than himself. I wish I had never seen "Elephant", because it makes it really hard to love Gus Van Sant, but he did a remarkable job of shooting this movie. And Emile Hirsch! My little indie heart just beats and beats for him.

Then last night I forced Steven to watch "Rachel Getting Married" - the new Anne Hathaway movie that everyone had to love. It was fantastic. I don't know if the rest of the world shares my fascination with addiction, but I can't get enough. And Rachel's wedding is officially my new fantasy. If only I could turn Steven into an African American musician with loads of crazy varied musically talented friends. Hmmm....

That's what I've been watching lately. Next up is Happy Go Lucky and Vicky Cristina Barcelona. Reviews to come.

Shhh... Dirty secret

Deep deep deep down, hidden under my professed love for all whiny indie unknown girl folk music, I have a core of uncontrollable love for pop music.

Kelly Clarkson's album came out today. And it's about 100 kinds of wonderful.

Also, I'm hooked on American Idol again. Anoop reminds me of pretty much every Indian debate nerd I've ever met. It's so familiar. I hope he sticks around for another week.

Wisconsin!

Steven and I have decided to go to Madison, Wisconsin for Spring Break.

Why?

Lorrie Moore lives there. There's a Jamba Juice AND an Urban Outfitters on the same street. They have the largest antique mall IN THE WORLD. And they have a bookstore. If Steven can find an edition of Beowulf in Old English, he'll even decide that it's a good bookstore.

If there are any other reasons and/or adventures to be had in Madison, please let me know. We are currently trying to stake out a few more things to do and see, so that I don't trap Steven into antique shopping for 8 hours.