no one knew his address.

i'm working on a spreadsheet, right? of my roadtrip... an updated version of what's posted below. it'll have where i'm stopping and starting every day, with addresses, mileage, time frames - as accurate as i can get, at least. especially after seeing the hangover yesterday (which was hilarious, but i am NOT recommending it unless you are highly appreciative of very, very inappropriate raunch humor) (i got carded TWICE before seeing it), when the guys were looking for their friend and trying to retrace his steps, i realized, if, horror of horrors, something should happen, i'd want some way for my parents to track where i was last - or where i was supposed to have been next.

except, of course, that my iphone has GPS, right? and hello, i tweet every hour like clockwork. i can't go too far off the map, can i, now?

but it dawned on me that i didn't take the same precautions last february. i headed up to the northwest with my iphone, dave's address, and a mental map of how to get to anacortes from seattle. i didn't have bus or train tickets, and in fact, i got lost after leaving the airport. and i made it, just fine, to the artchurch (you remember that seattle dave lives in an abandoned lutheran church that's been renovated into a live/paint/play structure they've renamed the ArtChurch,) although he was still at work when i got there.

seattle dave is not a serial killer. but, like, you don't know him. raise your hand if you've met him. my dad has, as it turns out, met him, but that was for 6 minutes, because we were in town for my grandfather's funeral, and my dad happens to be a horrible judge of character - he's a sucker for anyone with good taste in music (which dave has) (that's actually how we met) (that's a story for another time).

you guys, nobody knew where i was. i was in seattle for three days, untraceable. yes, i was updating my facebook. yes, i was calling and emailing. but no one actually knew where i WAS. no one knows dave's last name. he's always "seattle dave." i know it, but i never use it. i'm sure cindy assumed my dad knew where i was staying and my uncle dan assumed i'd told jenni where i was staying and i just reckon that everyone assumed someone else knew but the truth is, that at the end of the day, nobody knew exactly where i was sleeping for two days.

anyway. i'm realizing that, just like everything always needs to be renewed, the way i do human relationships needs a little reworking. and this is one of those things. i'm wanting to be missed, i realize, while i'm gone, and so i'm going to tell a few people exactly where i'm going to be. that's the risk - the scary fourth-grade valentine moment, where i hand a favorite person my folded up road trip itinerary with just a little bit of my heart attached to it, because i'm saying, care that i'm gone? and i think - i'm not positive, but i think: that less-robot/more-human vulnerability - it's a step in the right direction.

BTW, the ArtChurch is located at the corner of 22nd & 61st in Ballard in Seattle.