The Last Road Run (Day Fuzzy)

Sorry, kids, although I kept all the receipts in a folder and took pictures of various sites, I never really got the chance to take them all out and arrange them, because my planned trip to NY with a stop over in Chicago to see my son before on or before Thanksgiving was really turning out to be quite the nightmare. Before I go on to explain the frightening bits about Chicago I want to tell you how heart broken I was that my son, whom I hadn't seen for nearly 3 years would leave me on Thanksgiving Day to spend the time with his father. His father, who had gotten residential custody of him when he was 8 years old. His father, who had made me move from my birth place in California to Chicago, Illinois and then made mincesmeat out of me during our divorce, used his son's own urine to pass a drug test to get a job and everyday wanted to belittle me for trying to raise my son with a different set of values then his. His father, who would cling to his sister for support and blame me for his inabilities while forcing me to do it his way or else. His father, who had accosted me in the parking lot of our mediator to try and force me to believe that I could keep my son if I sold the car or sign it over to him. Things I felt then and still feel now, being most disgraceful, to bargain away your son for fear that you will be left with a bad credit rating over the payments of a car not being made on time or at all. Hideous!!! Not that his bargaining would even be truly honored in the end. Most likely, he was just baiting me to see what I would do, if I would fall for it. And, even upon entering Dr. Dimitri's office afterward, in such a state of hysterics, you would think that the Dr. would have some sympathies toward what I was going through, but NO, the Dr. went on to make me feel even worse of a person for trying to stand my ground under extreme pressures and intimidation tactics. Fucking Illinois. But, my son doesn't know these things, he only remembers how his father used to bring him a plastic Ninja Turtle every week as some sort of consolation prize for having poor parents, who couldn't win no matter what. It wasn't because neither of us was able to make enough money, it was because the United States of America was lying to it's own citizens through the news and by shoving cheap tv shows and food in front of our faces and expecting us to be happier about it, while people in Congress and the White House were making deals with Wall Street and foreign countries since the beginning and no one would ever be the wiser. I entered Illinois again for the first time since 1989, only on the south end of the state. After going through Springfield, I was too terribly excited to stop for the night, and I wished to make up for the lost day that I had forgotten I had on my agenda. I wanted to make it into Chicago by night fall and see the kid. How awfully painful it was though for my back. I was really risking it. REALLY risking it. Even with my glasses on, I fail to see properly in the dark and the long stretches of highway were soon to become short, crowded sections of tollways. I had forgotten about this part to my dismay. The first toll I would encounter was the worst. First it is completely dark now and I have to follow the ruby lights filing into a single lane and go from 30 miles an hour to 55 miles an hour, which is actually pulling me into an 80 mile an hour herd of cars for a couple of miles to all of a sudden stop and throw some change in a bin. I realized I had forgotten the change for the bin and as I was forced to stop at the unmanned toll booth that suddenly flashed brightly into my eyes, probably taking my picture. I wish I had a copy of that picture to share with you, it has to be the least flattering picture ever taken of me. My glasses on crooked, my hair tied back, my mouth wide open, screaming, and my eyeballs as red as the car lights ahead of me. Not like this one: