Well, at the moment, Council Bluffs, Iowa. But I was in Omaha earlier tonight! We spent most of the day driving across the fine states of Illinois and Iowa, making our way deep into the American Heartland (or, for any east-coaster who might happen to read this, you may think of it as “West Flyover”), before spending the evening having supper with some coworkers and a stranger upon whose couch Alan is crashing this weekend.

As oddly appealing and terrifying the concept of couch surfing may be, we opted for the more traditional hotel stay, in a cheap hotel just outside downtown. Which gives me the opportunity to wax philosphical on the bizarre design choices made by those doing hotels. The theme of the day appears to be “greens”. I use the plural, since there are a number of them present throughout the room, none of them the same, and none of them complementary. Adjectives ranging from “Lime Life Savers” to “Alien Life Form Excretion” run through my head as I attempt to do the room’s decor justice. An orgy of paisleys and fleurs-de-lis might have resulted in the pattern that festoons the bed covering, while the curtains are a celebration of golden moths splatted against a deep green solid wall of mold.

Yet, for some reason, the room designer’s flair for decoration is not sated by these bold and incomprehnsible statements! No! Two pieces of K-Mart Artwork hang proudly on the walls, wherein white herons take flight from a clutch of tall reeds against an orange, salmon and beige backdrop.

I am certain the intent behind these dramatic room adornments is to immediately make one’s eyes cower in fear and befuddlement, which allows the owner of said eyes to take in the glory that is the carpeting. Criss-crossing vectors of pure hatred and evil form a sea of yellow, green, and even more green, bringing to one’s mind the image of adorable little maggots crawling across a mossy plain.

Indeed, it is a feast for the eyes and mind. I’m sure Buddhist monks, training for battle* endure sights like this in their daily rituals. And, unquestionably, I am a better man for having endured it myself.

*It is a little known fact that Buddhist monks battle alien invaders every day. They keep this fact secret, so as not to alarm the populus. They have emerged victorious from every battle for the few millennia they’ve been practicing their trade, though I weep for the planet should they ever lose. But that’s a story for another time.