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6:38 a.m. - 2002-03-28

So today I head home.


I really think I'm going to miss this city. I won't miss this hotel though. My God. My stay at the Murder Motel has been anything but fun.

I have figured out that there are two other types of people staying in this hotel...Mexican immigrants and truckers whose trucks have broken down. Because every time I leave my room, there's some guys with filthy clothing and ball caps and long ZZ Top beards lying underneath truck engines and guzzling dirty motor oil.

And I can tell they don't like "my kind". I'm wearing a suit every time I step out of the door. I'm probably

"Mr. Coat and Tie" to them. I bet they call me "Mr. Fancypants" or "Mr. Guy With No Oil In His Nostrils" or "Mr. High Falutin' Sissy Suit Wearing Boy".

At least...that's the vibe I get from them anyway.

Every night there's a complimentary Happy Hour in the hotel for the guests. I've missed it each night...knowing that if I went, I'd have to get in a fist fight with one of the truckers in the Murder Motel's Cocktail Lounge/Storage Room.

And quite frankly ... I don't wanna get my suit bloody.

So no...I won't be missing the Murder Motel at all. But this's a beauty.

Had my last interview yesterday morning. It was an odd one.

I got there and waited for the president of the company to see me. When he finally came out to greet me, I noticed something different about him.

His eyes went in two different directions.

I would say that his right eye was a lazy eye, but it was far from lazy. It was actually anti-lazy. It was crazy. He had a crazy eye. It was the kind of eye that mere words could not do justice. The only word that comes to mind when looking at his eye was "googly".

He had a googly eye.

It rolled around constantly like a little ball on a roulette wheel. I was getting dizzy every time I tried to look him in the eyes. I tried to concentrate on his one good eye, but dammit...that googly eye kept beckoning me to stare at it. So I would get fixated on it until I felt like I'd been on a Tilt A Whirl for 30 minutes straight and fight the urge to vomit Monday's lunch up.

Anyway, Senor Googly Eye had already prepared a bunch of material for me. So much that there was really no need to conduct an interview with him.

This kinda ticked me off because if it wasn't for him, I could have left town yesterday. But he HAD to see me in person to give me this stuff. He couldn't mail it or fax it or email it. Nope. He wanted me to come from Alabama all the way across the country to hand it to me in person.

I was gracious. Mainly because I was nervous about getting into a fist fight with Mr. Googly Eye. You never know about those crazy eyed guys. They could go either way, they could be punching away at open air or they could land super punch after super punch because their googly eye sees all.

So I didn't yell at him or anything.

I left his place, went back to the hotel room, got my camera and went downtown to find the Chamber of Commerce and take pictures of downtown.

I drove on the same street for 15 minutes trying to find the Chamber, but it just wasn't there. It was supposed to be at 250 S. 5th Street. I drove up and down the street and never once saw it. The street address jumped from 144 to 320. So I gave up, parked the car and walked around downtown, snapping photos like a gigantic Japanese tourist. Touristzilla if you please.

Finally snapped every picture I could (which I would share with you here, but my camera and cord are already packed) and got in the car to find a decent place for lunch.

Went to Red Robin which serves gourmet burgers.

I know...I's not exactly a "decent" place...but it sounded good.

Expensive though. My bill was ten bucks for a burger, fries and drink. And the burger wasn't anything special. I coulda gotten the same thing at Carl's Jr.

(Lookit me....talking like a West Coast citizen! For those of you east of the Mississippi, substitute "Hardee's" for Carl's Jr.)

Left there and drove back to the hotel room, as I was exhausted. Didn't sleep very well Tuesday night and so I laid down to take a nap.

My evil boss Wendigo called to tell me that tonight...well...I'm not sure who all reads I'll just say that tonight will be a very special night for my boy Edweird. And for now, I'll leave it at that.

I then proceeded to lay in this room for seven hours straight.

I think I have bedsores. I'm not exactly sure what bedsores are...but I'm sick of laying down. It's making me sore, as in "pissed". know...bedsore.

Called the wife at 8, after "Ed".

She went to check out my lousy, stinking brother-in-law and mother-in-law's new house.

She said she feels better selling our home after seeing theirs, because our current home is in much better shape than their new one is. Carpet's ripped...wallpaper's peeling...just looked like crap to her.

She said it was depressing to look at the back yard where Maggie will now be living. There wasn't much grass, there was a small fenced in place for her and it was nothing like she was used to with us where she had the entire back yard and the entire house to roam around in.

We will be giving Maggie to them sometime in the next two weeks.

This may be a bit harder than I thought it would be. I've had this dog since 1990. And even though she gets on my every last nerve these days, I have a feeling it's going to break her heart to have to go to a new family, a new home and a much smaller space to call her own.

Who knows? She may love it. She DOES love my asshole brother in law, so she may be happy.

But she loves us doubt about that.

It's just going to be hard to say goodbye to her. And no...I don't really plan on going to Grandma's to see her that often. I almost think that would be torture because she'd want to come home with us.

And we just can't sell our home with dog fur and dead grass all over the place.

It's for the best. I keep telling myself and my wife that.

It's just....tough.

That's about it from Boise. I've got some work to do for the next few hours before getting to the airport, so I'll leave you here.

Wish me luck on my flight.

Oh...thanks U.S. Government for issuing a new terrorist alert yesterday. That makes me feel real confident taking a cross country flight today.


Oh...and God bless Milton Berle, Dudley Moore and Lyle Lovett.

Bad things do come in threes. And even though Lyle's not dead (that I know of anyway), he's rather ugly and certainly didn't need to be trampled by a bull to add any ugliness to him.

That is all.

Peace out.

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