Pulled over by a cop at 1:30 am

In case you're wondering, the 2 inch thing on my windshield has grown to double its size. (No funny comments please.) So I call the insurance company and they arrange for a mobile glass fixer-upper to come over to Drew's and Maria's place and repair the crack. (Thanks again for letting me crash, guys!)

After the brief delay while my windshield is repaired, I'm off to Boise. It's a 6 hour drive through surprisingly diverse terrain. One moment you're in desert territory (with its unique kind of fauna), the next you're in winding roads in high mountains with flowing rivers right by the highway! It was a nice relaxing drive. Speed limit: 55. I'm loving my beamer even more. I get to Boise around 6 pm (one hour time change) from the non-stop drive, and my gas tank is just barely below half! Great mileage!

So I have a quick fish-n-chips dinner from the place next to my hotel, coz I'm starving (disgusting, btw) then plan to head out on the town. According to the guidebook I have, this place "The Balcony Club" is supposed to be the popular dance club in town. I get there around 10 pm. Observations: Fourteen foot glass walls all around the club (it's on a corner), and it's right downtown so the bright lights from the buildings next door brighten the place. So it's very open and not dark at all. Weird. Kelly Clarkson is loved everywhere, apparently. Lots of pickup trucks revving their engines and "racing" around downtown. The club is mixed -- and it works! Everyone seems to be having a good time not minding whatever anyone else is doing. Guy wearing a cool tshirt that said: "That was you?!?" Guy standing next to me saying to his friend who was roughhousing "Stop it: I'm putting my gloss on" (holding the teeny lipgloss brush). Most popular song of the night: "Girls just wanna have fun".

I leave the club early (1:30) before close, not wanting to tempt fate by leaving at closing time when everyone else does. Worst fears confirmed. A block away from my hotel, I get pulled over by a cop. Says I made a right turn without signalling. ?!?!? I told him (very nicely and apologetically) that it was a specifically designated right-turn lane, so didn't think it was necessary to signal. He asked me where I came from, how many drinks I had, how long ago. Asked to see my registration. Asked me to follow his finger with my eyes. Then lets me go and tells me to be careful. Phew.

So I'm supposed to be discovering America as I discover myself in the process. I don't necessarily want to believe it 100%, but Matt says: "Dude, you're a brown person in Idaho. The cops are gonna pull you over for whatever." Unfortunately, there might be some truth in that. Sigh. Boise, I'm outta here. Maybe I'll have better luck in Mormon country. New updated plan: