My friend Mandy and I hit the road early this morning in order to reach St. Louis by nightfall. We would have had it beat except for a few minor setbacks.

I was about 45 minutes down the highway, listening to my Clay CD, when I realized Mandy wasn't in the passenger seat. She had run in the house for a few last minute things, like pretzels and Gatorade, and I forgot I was waiting for her. Going back to her place to pick her up put us behind a good hour and a half.

Finally, everyone was in the car and we were back on the road again. Then Mandy realized she had forgotten her shoes. There aren't many shoe stores throughout the fast farmlands of Illinois. We had to find an exit and circle the town for a while to find a store.

Finally, we found a shoe store, she found some shoes, and we were back on the road... going in the wrong direction. I realized it quickly and turned around. We laughed and joked about our idiocies white we ate little powdered donuts. I laughed a little too hard in the middle of a bite and got a mouthful of powder down my windpipe. We had to pull over for 20 minutes so I could empty my lungs of powder.

Back on the road, it wasn't long before we had to stop again. I was singing at the top of my lungs and choked on a Pringle. Mandy had to commandeer the vehicle to pull the car to the side of the road. She dragged me out of the car, but she didn't know the Heimlich and started to panic. In the midst of her freaking out, she tripped over a rock and landed her elbow right in my chest. The Pringle shot out of my mouth and I could breathe again. My lung remained blessedly free of food particles the remainder of our drive.

We arrived around 8:30 PM and paid a ridiculous fee of $50 to park our car for the weekend. We pitched a tent across the street from the Edward Jones Dome and I climbed in to rest my eyes.

Just as I was about to doze off, some AI officials hit the street with bullhorns. Mandy frantically dragged me out of the tent and we were herded like cattle into a line of about 600 people, with our pillows and sleeping bags in tow. Hundreds upon hundreds of people joined us during the night.

At one point during the wee hours of the morning, I stepped out of line to use the port-o-potty. While doing my business inside, I wrote "I Love Clay" with magic marker on the wall. In the middle of my free flow, I felt the cubicle shake a bit. I figured it was just my imagination. I proved myself wrong when I opened the door to step outside. I found myself and my potty tied to the top of a black car. I peeked around the edge of the car and saw Ryan Seacrest's reflection in his side view mirror. He had his arm out of the window doing a one handed Macarena.

I jumped down and ran back to my spot in line. Mandy was drooling on my pillow. I shoved her over and climbed inside my sleeping bag, elbowing the guy next to me in the face. He grumbled in his sleep. I laid soundlessly in my sleeping bag for quite some time before I finally dozed off.

I woke up to find myself in the back of a car, still tucked into my sleeping bag. I poked my head out. It was Ryan's car again. He was too busy singing along loudly to 'Dip It Low' to notice me open the door and roll out. I hit the ground and jumped up running, dragging my sleeping bag behind me. I ran back to my spot and got back into my blanket before anyone had even noticed I was missing.