Bloomington, day 2

College towns always seem to have that walkable mainstreety section lined with businesses catering to the college cliche. A coffee shop here. A head shop there. A gym on the corner. A good date spot tucked away somewhere. And a restaurant with a "famous" dish that weighs more than your head. These areas tend to be peopled by that new breed of pseudo-hippie that thrives in the collegiate environment. They aren't really hippies in the sense that they share ideals or goals similar to those of the infamous movement. But they do seem to enjoy wearing natural colors and growing beards and smoking clove cigarettes and. . . I think you get the picture.

And the picture is the point. Now take that picture and put it on a motorcycle, not a Harley, one of those just-barely-bigger-than-a-moped bikes. Then put a colorful, shoot-me-out-of-a-cannon helmet over its head. Then surround it with a dozen or so similar pictures, one of which has clearly taken on the role of leader trying to guide the squad out of a treacherous parking lot. That's how my day started.

On my way to Best Buy, where I did Not Buy a new laptop battery ("Um, you can't buy those in stores. You have to go online and order one."), I saw this gaggle of ludicrousity coming out of a parking lot at me. I laughed. . . out loud. . . actually.

On that note, Indiana seems to have more motorcyclers than Michigan. Indiana also seems to have no helmet laws. It seems that one of those facts should negate the other. . .

Okay, so on the job search front: no ideal job yet. Not in the paper. Not at the paper. Not anywhere else I went and asked. No ideal jobs anyway. Plenty of job jobs. But I think I may prefer to go someplace else to get a job job. Bloomington, which is nice, is a bit too much like places in Michigan, which are also nice, for me to move away from all of my Michigan ties just to take a job job. . . I need to see more places. I may be back. But for now, on to the next city.

I'm grateful for a cheaper hotel room (20).

On the road

Today, I embarked upon the Great Procrastinator Roadtrip of '08. In an attempt to circumvent the awfulness of long-distance, job-search rejection/indifference, I've taken to the road with hopes of either lucking into the perfect opportunity when I happen to be in the right place at the right time for a sweetsweet job or finding the awesomist place in the country where I wouldn't care if my job is crap because the locale is staggeringly bliss-inducing.

So where would a procrastinator go for the first stop on such a mission? Bloomington, Indiana of course. Why Bloomington? Because I can relate to those fiery cutters. Actually, it's because I looked into the city a few years back when I was considering going to college here, and it sounded like a neat place. . . blahblahblah. . . sorry. . . not interesting. . .

The day was driving. A six-hour drive swollen beyond that by road work and construction and road work and construction and. . . Driving is like exercise. If you get a bit of it, you feel refreshed and invigorated and your mind clears out that irrelevant nonsense you've been stuffing in it on a daily basis. But if you get too much of it, your legs and arms get all wobbly and you start talking to yourself.

On the path to Bloomington is Indianapolis. I've never been comfortable driving around cities of that size, and when I realized that I would be passing around the city that pays Peyton Manning during rush hour I was worried. But it wasn't bad. Five to six lanes and plenty of room to maneuver. No madmadmad New England drivers in sight. Quite pleasant, actually.

When I finally got to Bloomington, I couldn't find a hotel. I drove this way and back. I went straight. I turned. I found a place attached to a bar that had a big chicken on a sign boasting that tonight is the hot body contest. I drove some more. I finally found a clump of hotels. No rooms here. No rooms next door. No room there. "What's going on this weekend?" "Some drum corps. thing." The DCI finals are in town this weekend. I wish I had known. Not that I could afford a ticket right now, but I would've called ahead anyway. But I finally found a room.

So tonight I sleep, tomorrow I explore the city in search of jobs and cheaper hotel rooms.

I'm grateful for lucky sticks (20).