I’m convinced – I’m now officially trapped in St. Cloud.
Sorry about the delay in getting back to you, my hypothetical blog reader and all-around cool entity – I’ve spent the past few weeks testing the boundaries of my prison.
“Prison” – too harsh? Well, it’s actually like a theme park of normality, and Mom has given me free reign to do almost whatever I want most every day, with a few weird exceptions.
One exception is that I can’t have a phone.
Another is that I have to watch what I write here – she actually found some way to take down a few posts since last time, since I was too specific about a few things.
For example, I can say that she’s been spending a lot of time at the Crossroads Center, but I can’t tell you exactly what she’s doing. I did that last week, and the whole post blew up.
At first, I was satisfied riding the bus to Waite Park and the Parkwood movie theater – it’s about 10 minutes away via the #1 bus. Waite Park has about 6000 people in it, and I’ve probably seen almost all of them on the streets of St. Cloud, doing all of the things they can’t do at home. There’s not a whole lot to enjoy in Waite Park, “The City with the Smile”, but I don’t hold that against them.
There’s a SuperAmerica right by the bus stop, which is awesome saucy pop, and one of those shiny thermos diners, not to mention one of those First Fuel Banks. I got way too excited when I first saw one of those, but it turns out it’s just a gas station – you can’t actually deposit extra diesel or whatever.
So anyway, the Parkwood staff knows all about me by now. I’ve seen every single movie that they’ve offered for the past month, some a few times – I’m a sucker for Harry Potter and Captain America. If there’s a really awful moment, like most of Transformers 3, then I’ll just walk out to the funky lobby and chew the popcorn with the soda jerkettes – a few of them are awfully cute. Plus, they look the other way when I sneak into the R rated movies – The Smurfs was a perfect launching point into forbidden theater hopping. I’m also totally into the tuxedo wear the ticket takers have to put up with – I’m been trying my best to let them let me borrow their bow ties, but it’s been no go so far.
The Salk River is behind the theater, but I haven’t really gotten a good look at it from in between all the trees. That’s the crazy thing – I totally see how I could walk right up to its creeky self, and frolic in Pine View Park, but I can’t. I get up the nerve, approach, and then always change my mind. Remember that point, since they’ll be a quiz at the end.
Follow the river and you’ll hit the Mississippi River and Salk Rapids, another town I just can’t see myself hanging out in. Or, another town I can’t actually visit for a few minutes before wanting to go back across Old Man River. Sartell, which is a few blocks north of that, is just as inoffensive. I need to be offended!
Overall, Highway 10 seems to be the absolute border of my new and strange agoraphobia – I can go over the river on 3rd St SE, and hang out in the Target, Burger King, Shopco or Cash Wise, but anywhere beyond that to the East just doesn’t do it for me. They say the tiny airport is over there, but to me it’s like talking about Shangri La – mythically inaccessible.
I don’t want to be on Obsessed or Hoarders, really. I just want to get out of this fucking town, right now.
That’s another post that Mom whacked – it accounted all of my recent and failed attempts to run away from here, from her. I tried taking the Jefferson Lines bus from Downtown to Minneapolis, which is about an hour away, but the driver said I was too young to travel unattended. The fucking website says 15 is the cutoff, but I don’t have an ID card or anything, so they would believe me.
I got on a Northstar Link commuter bus, but it broke down two blocks after it left.
I tried to give a Yellow Cabbie $500 to take me anywhere South of here down 94 – but he just took a weird route near St. Augusta that ended up back at the hotel, with my Mom waiting outside for us.
I’ve used my wad of $20s to buy a new bicycle, all red fenders and brilliance, and tried to find a surface route to take, but the front brake failed and I ended up crashing into a bus stop bench. I wasn’t even anywhere near it, then bam!
I try to hitch, and no one stops, not even the sketchy cowboy molesters.
Writing it down like this, it sounds like some grand mommy GPS conspiracy, like she knows what I’m doing and thinking at all times, but I still don’t believe in techno miracles.
I tried reading Tokie’s creepy fan fiction disguised as a blog, but I couldn’t get past April’s posts and her heart on for me – it’s all a bit too much. We’ll, that would be too much all by itself, but as soon as the universe is ending over and over, and everyone’s joined the X-Men, then I go back to Massive Cloud Burst via VMWare.
If there’s one thing I can count on these days, it’s my shiny Mac and virtualization. Not that I can download everything I want – Mom put on some sort of crazy, invisible firewall jobby, that I can’t even figure out how to identify, let alone get past. If I even type the wrong thing into Google, then I’m talking to the hand. I tried bribing the Geeks at Best Buy, but they just kept on smiling at me. I think they’re all from Waite Park.
Oh yeah – at least I can make it down to Quarry Park. 112 feet deep hole swimming! Beautiful natural things! I’m a sucker for all of that green, brown and blue stuff – I think that’s one of the few good things that I inherited from Mom.
My brother Joey is the opposite. He always hated to go camping – said it made him think too much about shit. I wonder what’s going on with him – last summer he came back to Portland for the break, but I don’t even know if Mom let him know that we would be gone.
Anyway, like I said, I need to get out of here, even if that meant leaving Quarry Park and the Parkwood tuxedoes. I mean, they don’t even have a place you can buy mini-comics and zines – Granite City Comics is alright if you’re after big boobs under tights, but I need my Reading Frenzy fix of joy from Portland – I wonder if they will ship to prisoners.
So. I’m trying to enjoy what I can, and most of that is food related. Dairy Queens and semi-adequate eats from the House of Pizza. If you like strip mall food, then you’re absolutely set – there’s even a 5 Guys Burgers and Fries a few blocks from the hotel, but I had to spit out my first fleshtacular bite.
I thought I loved meat! Until I made it here to St. Cloud, I was all for everything going in my belly, right way. Now, it’s like I’ve gone vegetarian without even trying to, and it sucks. It’s like you’re pressing your nose against the window at Wendy’s, and you could go in to get some fries and a frosty, but come on.
Seriously, come on already – if I’m going to be stuck here, at least give me something savory to live for.
Shit. Writing about this is getting me hungry.
Whatever. Time to ride my bike up and down the hard streets of St. Cloud, rocking the Taco Bell and trying to convince myself that I’m in a paradise of my Mom’s making.
Next time I’ll tell you about my crazy dreams and the fucking TV set from hell.