Alex: Previously, on where in the states is Alex

Aaaaaaand back. The rumors are true, after a brief sabbatical, for which the author cited creative exhaustion and the desire to work on independent side projects, the only thing worth reading on the internet is back in business.

After a restful but relatively uneventful stay in glamorous Albuquerque New Mexico, I have shouldered my trusty Tibetan prayer-flag festooned army rucksack and Amtraked it to Lenexa, Kansas.

More on that later.

So I went to Abq (the quasi-official shortening of Albuquerque, because do you know how much of a pain in the tits *that* word is?) with no particular plan after that, and not a huge amount of resources. I ended up spending eighteen days in the home of my sister-from-another-mister Margaret

She's the one on the bottom. I think. Wait, maybe she- no, no the one on the bottom, with clothes and opposable thumbs. Probably.

And her husband Brian, who is a really good sport for taking in squatters off the street for two and a half weeks

And who also has *fabulous* taste in hats

My time in Abq with these two perfectly normal and highly photogenic people was great; I really enjoyed being in Margaret's life again, however briefly, since I've barely seen her in the last few years, and getting a chance to know Brian was highly rewarding.

But Jesus god on a pogo stick, are they old people now.

I like to tell a story, some of you may have heard it, of a room mate I used to have, who worked such an early job that she'd be up before six in the morning, and that once I was still up when she was off to work, eating cereal by the handful and reading webcomics, something which pissed her off so much that I started doing it for fun after that. That was Margaret.

The middle one.

Apparently, that wasn't a fluke; she just lives like that. So her and hubby would regularly be in bed by nine in the evening, leaving me out in the burbs with two seasons of Simpsons and this yelling at me for attention

This is Millie. We don't know what she is either, but I can tell you for sure that she looks a lot less cute through the lens of two weeks filled with "accidents"

That dog up there was the third, and by far highest-maintenance tenant of the apartment, a scrappy mutt they picked up to compensate for never wanting children.

Dwarf Moleman? Underachieving Gremlin? Hirsute narcissistic dwarf with personal space issues? You decide!

We eventually came to an agreement, which boiled down to her eating the shoe laces off only my right boot, and in return I touch her poop a lot. She is an excellent negotiator.

Shown here in her natural form.

But I digress; point is, no real updates because nothing happened. We did get a couple of things in there, which are worthy of note, starting with a trip to Old Town, which I didn't really take any pictures of because it's just the tourist part of town and everyone everywhere knows what that looks like.

Except this. Because it's cool. And I envision an old-timey priest played by Cheech Marin having a shoot out with banditos when I look at it.

We also went to a place called Tent Rock Canyon, which is apparently a box-slot canyon, something which I still think sounds dirty. Here's some pics

This is a hole in the cliff

Told you so

Sand people were an issue

The titular (and title) tent rocks

After that on the linear scale of time we went for a stroll on Sandia Peak, a mountain which overlooks Abq and also happens to be where these two crazy kids got hitched. There's a thing on top, not really sure why, but it was fun getting the dog on top of it

No girls allowed

The peak, which was nearly a mile above the valley floor, also afforded a pretty epic panorama of the city, presented as usual left-to-right top-to-bottom.

Last stop was on the way back from that, a place called Tinker Town that we stopped at largely because Margaret is a crazy person who becomes fixated on random things and will not be satisfied until she's fully explored them.

Pictured: not the sprawling, child's-toy based metropolis I was led to expect

The whole place was basically what happens after the credits on an episode of Hoarders

Some where in there is five jars of urine and a box of toenail clippings.

It's the monetization of the adage "quantity over quality"

Literally a rundown house just full of someone's stuff.

And finally, here's a sweet picture of my hosts being all matrimonial

Make fun of you on the internet, then post a nice picture. That's how I role.

Drink: Some good bourbon I can't remember the name of because I'm a poor person and only buy shitty bourbon that one night we sat around the apartment drinking.

Bed: Third-floor open-air penthouse. Except when it rained.
City: A (A!) l (L!) b (B!) u (U!).
querque!

Final thoughts: Albuquerque.

There are definitely a few things to recommend this place: green chilis, a bit of local beer, New Mexican food, and some nice hiking just outside of town. That's pretty much it. The place is flat, dull and largely without noteworth. Except green chilis; now that I've found them, I don't know how to face the idea of a future without them.

After that, I hopped a train to scenic Kansas City to track down Kevin, a good friend who had spent three years in Oregon then moved back home to the Big Empty, apparently due to scenery-overload

Pictured: the "real" America we've heard so much about.

Anyway, met up with Kevin and some of his Kansas folk

Good, honest, God-fearing 'Mericans

And headed off to the World War One memorial to throw a frisby around for a while, mostly because none of us knew the difference between Memorial Day and Labor Day. The place is actually pretty cool, and is apparently the only American memorial to WWI.

Honoring the fallen the only way we know how; an enormous stone dick

Spent the night in someone's back yard, watching fireworks that aren't even legal out here and adjusting to Lite beer.

The next day we spent mostly inside, bullshitting and drinking bad coffee, with two trips out- a crappy comedy club (open mic night for one of the Kansanians), and the only bar that's open until 3 am in either Kansas or Missouri. Wednesday was also pretty low key, with the evening's entertainment provided by a trip to Lawrence, the only liberal town in Kansas and home of Kansas University, for a reminder that college kids are still idiots. Today has been nice and restful, and I'm looking forward to actually sleeping in a bed at Kevin's house for the first time.