Volume 2 of the Vow Renewal Weekend: Saturday

Here is the account chronicling my day at the Great Escape with my Uncle.

Part 1: A Few Minor Setbacks
I woke up on July 10th, wrapped in my favorite purple Afghan, the sweet coolness of the air conditioner blowing on my face. This morning I would be going to The Great Escape. I got out of bed, and shuffled downstairs to use the bathroom, which was adjacent to the kitchen. Why is it bathrooms are always right next to the kitchen? In almost every house I've ever lived in or visited with the exception of a few, the bathroom is near the kitchen.
My aunt was already awake and she asked me if I wanted any breakfast, and told me she had eggs, toast, fruit and cereal. I took a bowl of cereal, even though eggs did sound very good, mostly because I didn't want to heat up the kitchen with any kind of cooking. In hindsight though, I probably should have had my leftovers for breakfast, after all, I ended up leaving them at my aunt's.
So I poured myself a bowl of Life cereal and ate it as fast as I could. Life is one of those cereals that gets soggy very quickly. That sounds like a wonderful metaphor, doesn't it? But I'm being literal here, as tasty as that cereal is, you have to eat it fast or it will become Mush City.
While I ate, my cousin watched Futurama on their Netflix. It was the Beast of a Billion Backs episode arc.
My mom was up, and she joined us in the living room. I got out my Vermont Monster Guide to show my cousin, he flipped through it and then quickly gave it back to me. I
Eventually, I wandered upstairs to get dressed. I put on my bra and underwear, my plaid Bermuda shorts (which make me feel incredibly butch), my Repo! The Genetic Opera t-shirt and my socks. I went to put on my pentacle, but was shocked when I found that the chain was broken! This was the first of a few minor setbacks. The second occurred when I descended the staircase and stepped right in a puddle of puppy piddle, (a present from Lucy) ruining my only pair of socks. Then to top it off, it was raining, when I was supposed to be at an amusement park all day. Trouble always comes in threes.
My aunt told me she would get me a pair of socks, then told me she'd made me a cup of coffee. It was just the way I like it too, with plain milk, no sugar or fancy creams.
While I drank my coffee, I checked my facebook and my Stardoll account on my aunt's laptop. I played around idly on the computer waiting for my uncle to get up.

My Uncle Russel descended the stairs. He seemed excited about the coming day, despite the weather, which was beginning to clear up. My aunt lent me a pair of her socks, which were almost exactly like the pair I had been wearing. I packed all my things. My duffel bag and bedding went into my mother's car. My backpack, which contained my bathing suit, towel, wallet, moist towelettes and medication would be going into my uncle's car.
While my uncle and I would be riding roller coasters and water slides, my sister and mother would be spending a day with my grandmother at Aunt Jenny's cabin in Schroon Lake. My mother and uncle discussed how I would get from Lake George to Schroon Lake at the end of the day, while I finished up my business online.

Eventually it was time to leave. As my uncle and I headed out the door I promised my mother that I wouldn't die in a horrible roller coaster accident. She told me to give her a hug and a kiss in case I did die. I did just that, giving her a big hug and kiss.
I threw my backpack in my my uncle's backseat, then climbed over the driver seat to get into the car. I was excited, but oddly calm. Usually when ever I go on a trip like this I'm like a pot ready to boil over. I suppose this is a good thing, perhaps it means that at least some of my anxiety is beginning to get under control.

Coming up next...the beginning of an epic adventure.

Friday Part 4

Wow, this took much fewer chapters than I had imagined. This chapter also may contain spoilers for a crappy movie that none of you may ever see.


Part 4: A Picture of Batman Eating Noodles
The Pasta Factory is a restaurant which mainly serves Asian and Italian noodle dishes. They also serve things like salads and soups, but most people come for the delicious noodles.
Allover the walls were drawings kids had done of their pasta dinners. Most of them were scribbles, but I saw a few cute anime drawings done by older kids and even a drawing of The Flying Spaghetti Monster! With this portrait of FSM came some sort of joke, that clearly came from a certain anonymous forum, which joke it was, I can't remember. This was very amusing to me and I wanted to draw my own lulzy pasta related picture. I recall asking my sister to draw me a picture of Batman eating noodles. Not that she ever did. Or would.
I ordered a sesame noodle dish with chicken. I had originally planned on getting an Italian dish, but at the last minute decided I would prefer some Asian fare. Then after we ordered, I got my drink and sat down at the large circular booth with my family. I sat with my sister at my left, and my uncle at my right.
Dinner passed pleasantly, with plenty of conversation. I didn't get to eat very much though, because Uncle Russel wanted to take my sister and I to see a movie, which would be starting soon. But my noodle dish was very delicious and I wish I had eaten more of it. I never got to eat the leftovers either. I would end up leaving them in my aunt's fridge.

My uncle wanted to take us to see Predators. The movie theater was in a mall adjacent to the restaurant, so it was only a minor trip across the parking lot to get to there. I wasn't sure I would like the movie, but I went anyway. Who knew, it might be good.
As my uncle bought the tickets, we heard some people discuss the new Last Airbender film. I said, loud enough for them to hear, that I had heard that the movie was so awful that it punched you in the soul. I wonder if they still went to see the movie. I haven't heard the very best reviews for it.
We bypassed the concession stand and went straight into the cinema. We took seats near the front, and I made a quick bathroom run before anything started.
I'm going to tell you this now. I found the previews more interesting than the movie itself. I recall in particular seeing a trailer for a movie based off of the Scott Pilgrim comic book. I had a minor geek out, seeing as I had read the first volume a month prior.
God, Predators was awful. The 'plot' (if you can even fucking call it that) was this whole stupid thing about the Predator Aliens, who look like Rastafarians with vagina dentata mouths, kidnapping Earth's best warriors and place them on their home planet to use as prey in their little hunting games. There wasn't much by way of a back story, the movie starts with the group of kidnapped humans: a couple of soldiers, a Yakuza gangster, a Mexican drug runner, a Russian Spetsnaz, a deathrow Convict, an African Guerrilla soldier and Topher Grace. That's right friends and neighbors, our sci-fi gorefest had Topher Grace in it.
The movie was boring as fuck. I actually fell asleep within the first twenty minutes of the film! I was a little bit ashamed by this, but figured that it only made sense, seeing as I'd been on the road all day. Hoping to wake up a little bit, I got up and went to the bathroom. On my way out, I briefly made conversation with the guy who collects ticket stubs (I used to work at a theater, and the kids who do that job are always so bored), then entered the ladies room.
There was a woman with two small kids and an infant in the ladies room. She was changing the baby on the counter by the sink. I asked if there was a changing table in the bathroom (not rudely, just with exasperation and surprise. It was pretty obvious that they lacked a changing table). When she replied that there wasn't, we briefly discussed the ludicrousness of this situation. Why wouldn't a bathroom have a changing table? In this day and age it just seems strange. But changing the baby on the counter was better than changing it on the floor, which is what I think people used to do.
After I washed my hands I applied my Hard Candy lip stain and gloss. After I painted my lips with the berry colored stain, I added the thick minty scented gloss, hoping the smell and taste would keep me awake. During this glossy procedure, the woman's kids watched me intently, which I found unnerving. Why is it when you put on makeup in a public bathroom the other people in there stare at you? It's not just kids that do it either, I've had adults eyeball me while I'm doing a few touch ups. At least when kids do it, they're just being curious, they don't know that it's rude to stare. Adults should know better than to stare. Their stares always seem so judgmental.
Oh, but I digress.

I returned to the movie, and stayed awake for some of the action. The humans got picked off one by one, and I have to admit that some of the death scenes were pretty badass. There was even a scene where a guy had his skull and spine ripped out. It reminded me so much of Repo! The Genetic Opera that I quoted a RepoChat in-joke.
"He's got your back"
But despite these gruesome death scenes and cheesy gore (the Predator's blood look like Nickelodeon slime!), I fell asleep for a second time.
I woke up long enough to see the end of the movie, complete with a twist ending (Topher Grace is a bad guy! WTF). When the credits rolled, strange cheerful music poured from the speakers, music that did not match the film's "seriousness". It was as if the filmmakers had simply given up. My sister, uncle and I left the theater, unimpressed with the mediocre quality of the movie. It was one of those films that relied only on its special effects.

The passenger door to my uncle's car did not work. If you wanted to sit in the passenger seat, you had to climb over the drivers seat to get there. Since I was wearing a miniskirt, my sister took the front passenger seat, so I wouldn't flash my swirl patterned knickers to the world. So I took the backseat, which I didn't mind doing.
The drive back to my aunt and uncle's house was very pleasant. We talked about all kinds of things, mostly movies.
Back at my aunt's house, my mom had gotten my cousin bathed and into bed. We had to get ready for bed ourselves. We took our bedding out of the car, and went up to my cousin's room (he would be staying on a couch in the office) to inflate the air mattress. I would be sleeping in my cousin's bed, and my sister and mom would take the mattress. After we were all set up, I changed into my over-sized wolf t-shirt (stolen from my dad) and my Mutts PJ pants with the delightful hole in the seat. I then shuffled downstairs where my uncle was watching South Park and my mom was reading. I tried to read too, but got distracted by the TV.
My mom went up to bed, and my sister joined us in the living room. After South Park finished. my uncle deliberated on what to watch next. He has Netflix for Wii, and so we sifted through titles of different movies, including horror movies. On the list I saw a favorite of mine, called Imprint. It is a really fucked up Japanese horror film that I like for its visuals and disturbing quality. It's strange that I saw it on there too, since I had mentioned it to my uncle in the car. A movie my sister had discussed was there too.
My uncle chose Imprint. Before the movie started, there was a creepy opening sequence for a production company. I do not know if it was a company that brought the film to the US, or the company that initially made it, but it was a very disturbing sequence. My cousin happened to walk in the room at this moment with my aunt, which made my uncle and I scramble to pause the film. Sam asked what we were watching. I didn't know how to answer. My aunt explained to him that we were watching something scary and that he should be in bed.
The movie was very gross. I had forgotten how gross it was, and because of its gore, I was kind of ashamed that I had picked it. I even apologized to my uncle for it. There is a torture scene, that is horrifying not just because of the content, but because of the sound effects. My uncle and I were both sitting there wincing and making noises of disgust. There were also a lot of aborted fetuses in this movie, but I didn't find that very gross. I'm not sure what my uncle thought of them. I do not know if he liked the movie or not either, just that he and I both thought it was very fucked up.
After that fucked up, disturbing movie finished, I went up to bed. My mom was reading and my sister was asleep. Or was it the other way around? I talked briefly with my mom, and then tried to read a little bit.
The next day, I would be going to the Great Escape with my uncle. I needed to get some sleep, so I would be rested for the next day. Thankfully I fell asleep as quickly as I had in the movie theater. After all, I had had a very long day.
The End of Volume 1.

Coming up: Volume 2 starts off with a fizzle instead of a bang! What is a girl to do?

Friday Part 3

Merrily merrily and onward we go...


Part 3: Beauty In Decay
Crossing the border into New York from Vermont is almost like entering another country. The landscape is different for one thing. The roadsides of the Empire State are dotted with billboards, usually displaying some kind of public service announcement about drunk driving or buckling your seatbelt. We don't have billboards in Vermont, they're illegal. Why? Because tourism is our main source of income, and billboards clutter up the beautiful landscapes that attract travelers from all over the country. So when you drive down our interstates and winding country roads, your view of our gorgeous fields and foliage is untainted by gaudy advertising. This is another reason that Vermont is awesome.
There are other differences in New York's landscape, but I can not name them. For some reason, New York always seems more drab than Vermont. Ah well...perhaps I am just biased.

It's not that driving through New York is a complete and total bore. We did see some interesting things. We drove past a country store with a stuffed moose on the roof. We drove past a furniture store that had over-sized chairs, sinks and beds. Katie snapped a few pictures of some of these sights. And as always, there were plenty of cemeteries and abandoned buildings to admire, including a creepy looking abandoned church.
Eventually, we reached Troy, NY. I've driven through there before, in fact my mom and I blew a tire there once, and ended up spending an hour or so in the Hess parking lot, in the middle of a not-so-good neighborhood.
Luckily, there were no blown tires or other automotive mishaps, though we did have to endure some wretched traffic. While we drove through the bustling, ghetto-tastic metropolis we were treated to more interesting sights. There was a Popeye's Chicken, which we don't have in Vermont, as well as some really cool graffiti. We drove under some great bridges, which mom said would be great to live under, if you were homeless. We also saw really cool old buildings. We drove through dilapidated ghetto neighborhoods, but I found them, in an odd way, quite charming. I'm one of those people that finds beauty in decay.
Then we drove over a bridge which spanned across the Hudson River. I always like driving over the Hudson. The Hudson is as wide as the Connecticut (which I live near), but it seemed rougher, wilder, and more badass than the Connecticut. The water in the Hudson even looked darker and choppier than the Connecticut.

So we drove and drove, until Mom decided it was time for a pit stop. We stopped at Stewart's gas station, not far from Mechanicville, where we used the bathroom and got some drinks. Mom and I got bottles of water and fruit punch flavored Gatorade, but I don't remember what Katie got. I suppose it doesn't matter.
Once we were back on the road, I took my medication and finished off my chicken fries from earlier that day. I would have eaten the onion rings, but they had tasted weird in the restaurant, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to eat them now.
Finally, we made it to Mechanicville, NY, where we would be staying at my aunt's house for the night. We arrived at my aunt's house rather quickly, where, once getting out of the car, I expected to see my grandmother, whom I had not seen in a full decade.
The only person at the house was my Uncle Russel. He invited us in, and asked us if we wanted to eat or drink anything. We declined politely, and he informed us that my Aunt Elizabeth and cousin Sam had gone to pick up my Grandmother from my Aunt Jenny's cabin in Schroon Lake. Then, he asked us if we would like to sit in the living room, where there was air-conditioning.
Inside the living room, it was much cooler. We had some pleasant conversation, and mom showed off pictures of my nephew, John Peter. She also showed my uncle a picture of our 35 pound orange tabby cat, Kirby.
My aunt's dogs, a Greyhound named Tony and a Dachshund named Lucy were very eager to see us. Tony hopped into my sister's lap. Lucy could not hop into anyone's lap, since she was sitting in her crate. This is a good thing, she pees whenever she gets very excited.
Eventually she was let out, and I was the one she chose to jump on, covering me in happy slobbery little dog kisses. Thank god I had moist towelettes in my backpack. But I enjoyed snuggling with her, she has the softest fur I have felt on any dog, and she is very loving and affectionate. Tony, who reminds me of a little pony, with his eager little trot and short, smooth fur stayed with my sister. Dogs like my sister very much. So do children.

Then, at long last, my aunt arrived with my cousin and grandmother in tow. I was struck with some shyness. I hadn't seen Grandma in such a long time after all.
My cousin Sam stuck his head around the living room curtain and said a curtly and shyly: "Hello, Sara" before running away. Sam is very shy around me, for reasons I can't quite fathom.
Mustering my courage, I got up out of my chair, and walked slowly from the living room to the kitchen to greet my Grandma Libby. I had intended to speak in Spanish to her (she's Cuban), but upon seeing her I forgot, and merely spoke shyly in English and hugged her tightly.
She seemed older than she had been the last time I saw her. This was of course, inevitable, seeing as I had not seen her in ten years. I had also grown taller than her in the decade since we had last seen each other. This shouldn't have been a surprise either, but I couldn't help but be slightly shocked by this. But still, it was so very good to see her.

After we sat a spell in the living room, we decided to go to The Pasta Factory for dinner. Sam would not be going with us, because he wanted to go swimming at a neighbor's house. So it was just the adults. I would ride with Aunt Elizabeth and Grandma, Katie and Mom would drive in the Sunfire and Uncle Russel would drive in his own little red car, which is twelve years older than God and has been around since my childhood.
The ride to the Restaurant was very pleasant. I felt so happy, being near my Abuela again. I counted another cemetery and chatted with my aunt and grandma.
But alas, the ride was much too short, and soon enough we had arrived at The Pasta Factory, to enjoy a nice family dinner.

Coming up next...a tasty noodle dish, a bad movie and some really gross sound effects.

Friday Part 2

Let get on with this...shall we?.

Part 2: A Beautiful Testament to the Finality of Death
We set off for our grand journey. We drove towards Brattleboro, where it was agreed that we would stop for lunch. As we drove, I decided that I would count and mentally record each cemetery I saw, throughout the entire weekend.
I am a taphophile. This means that I have a great passion for cemeteries, gravestones, an epitaphs.While use of the suffix -phile may lead one to believe that this is a passion of a sexual nature, I assure you that this is not the case. I do not get aroused by cemeteries or graves, I merely have a love for them that borders on obsession.
We drove through Westminster, where I counted one cemetery, and then we drove through Putney, where I counted a second.
I enjoyed driving through Putney, there I admired old houses (including one that we had almost bought five years ago) and marveled at the campy splendor that is Santa's Land. As we barreled down the road, Katie snapped pictures with her camera.
At one point, we got stuck in road work. Summer in Vermont is road work season, and it is not uncommon to get stuck waiting for the road crew to wave you through. It is particularly annoying, especially when it's hot out, but I feel that the guys out there working on the road have a worse time of it than the drivers do. To combat my feelings of frustration as the traffic piled up and we sat boiling in the July heat, I squeezed my bright orange stress ball. It kept my hands busy but did not soothe my mind.
Eventually we were granted permission to continue down the road, but not before being yelled at by an irate road worker (I have no idea what we did to incur his wrath). We eventually made it into Brattleboro, where we would eat lunch.

This is where the trouble began. Mom suggested McDonald's . But no one (including she who suggested it) really wanted to eat there. We couldn't afford Friendly's either. I suggested that we eat at Burger King. Of late, we had been enjoying eating there, mainly because of the little Twilight: Eclipse promo they were running, which involved winning free food and even money. I hate Twilight with a burning passion, but I love winning free food.
The catch was that Burger King was all the way on the other side of town, and Brattleboro traffic is a bitch. An unrelenting, aggravating bitch. Brattleboro is also a confusing place when it comes to its traffic, so it shouldn't have been a surprise that we got lost. It wasn't anyone's fault; like I said, Brattleboro is just confusing and annoying. We drove through neighborhoods and through downtown (which always seems shorten everybody's temper), trying to get to The Burger King. I felt guilty. If I hadn't suggested that we eat there, we wouldn't have gotten in this frustrating mess. When we finally got to the restaurant, we ended up driving past it. More frustration. We pulled into a nearby gas station, turned around and pulled into the Burger King parking lot. We were all hungry, hot and angry with the town of Brattleboro.

We entered the fast food joint. The place was festooned with Twilight decorations, including two nearly life-sized window clings of Edward and Jacob, (the promo centers around choosing between the vampire and the werewolf). While I hate Twilight, I have to admit that the actors playing the two male leads aren't bad to look at.
Burger King was crowded, but not too crowded. It was mostly old people and families with small annoying children. We ordered our food, I used the bathroom and then we sat down to eat.
But something was wrong. I couldn't eat. I felt like I had to force my self to bite, chew and swallow. I felt claustrophobic sharing a bench with my sister. The booths on either side of us were crowded with families with loud children. The bad pop music that screamed from the intercom filled my ears, relentless and invasive. My food tasted strange. I felt myself descend into a full-blown panic attack.
I squeezed my stress ball frantically, my hand clenching around the foam orb like a claw. I began to hyperventilate, and a wave of dizziness swept over me. Eventually my mother and sister noticed. They kept asking what was wrong, but I couldn't rightly answer. I felt like I was going to die. The dizziness felt like someone had broken an egg over my head and I put my head down on the table. I thought I was going to pass out. A feeling of pure terror washed over me, but I could not figure out why.
With some difficulty, I managed to explain some of what was wrong with me. The dizziness, the sudden loss of appetite, the fear. Mom thought it could be the noise and crowding of the restaurant. I wondered if it could because we were going to be around the extended family that weekend. It didn't matter what caused this inexplicable episode. The only cure was Ativan.
A couple of month previously, a doctor had obtained a prescription for me, to treat my bad anxiety. I use it whenever I'm particularly stressed out or if I'm having an attack.
Mom pulled my bottle of Ativan out of her purse (she keeps it for me, for reasons I would rather not discuss in this blog. I am sure you can figure out why) and handed me one of the diminutive white pills. I took it with some soda, and the effects seemed almost instantaneous. I calmed down enough to take a few bites of my chicken fries, though I would end up taking them in the car with me.
I still haven't entirely figured out what caused that sudden and frightening panic attack. It was one of the worst I have ever had, and there weren't any events preceding it, that would have warranted such a reaction.

We left Brattleboro, and drove west towards Bennington. We took long winding roads, where I saw old houses, cemeteries and beautiful rich green trees. The only drawback was that the people driving in front of us were slower than death. (though I often find that death, in fact moves very quickly.) Their slowness was caused by the fact that far ahead of us, was a truck that was moving at a snail's pace, in an effort to keep their cargo from sliding around and being damaged. It was all very frustrating. I put in my headphones and waited out this boring stretch of our trip.
Naturally, I do not remember every single detail of our trip. And even if I did, what would be the point of sharing it with you? I'm sure you're already bored to death with this blog, and wondering when the hell I'm going to quit this self-indulgent trip and write something with some goddamn substance. The trip was long. I counted cemeteries and listened to music. My sister took pictures. My mother did the driving.

When we got to Bennington, Mom wanted to get out and stretch her legs. She parked in front of the cemetery where Robert Frost is buried, The Old Bennington Cemetery. I desperately wanted to go in and explore, but Mom denied me such a pleasure, saying we didn't have the time. We had just ten minutes to stretch our legs. I spent my ten minutes running along the length of the cemetery's white fence, reading what epitaphs I could, and geeking out over the different carvings. Soul effigies, and vines, beautiful poems, all of them a beautiful testament to the finality of death. I even climbed the fence, in order to get a better view of a table tomb (and I don't mean that it was a tomb belonging to a deceased table. A table tomb is a marble slab supported on pillars). Inside the cemetery, I could see a family admiring the stones and taking pictures. I envied them, getting to explore more of the beautiful place than I was able to. There really were some amazing gravestones.
When our stretch was over, I reluctantly got back in the car. If it were up to me, I could have spent the entire weekend in that gorgeous necropolis.
We drove out of Bennington, and were treated to more familiar sights as we did, such as the creepy house across from the cemetery, the slabs of rocks that looked like Stonehenge and the strange metal sculptures that spun in the wind. I've said it once, and I'll say it again, Vermont is truly an amazing place.
Eventually, we crossed the border into New York. But we'll save that for the next chapter.

Coming up...New York yields some strange and entertaining sights.

Volume 1 of The Vow Renewal Weekend: Friday

This is the first volume of the last weekend's trip to NY. I have decided to title them by the day of the week. Simple but effective. This is the beginning of a long and dense read. So enjoy! Or not. And as usual, my memory might be slightly hazy.


Part 1: Doctor of Shut The Fuck Up
I woke on the morning of Friday July 9th, to the sound of my fan on my face, and my sister's voice, reminding us all to get up. We had just barely survived a heat wave of epic proportions and I was pleasantly surprised to find that the air was slightly cooler than it had been the day before, though it was still quite humid. I rolled out of bed, and put on my Crocs, ready to finish packing, and get ready for a long journey ahead.
The very first thing I did was take my cat outside for his daily jaunt. Dommie is mainly an indoor cat, but once in awhile I take him outside, for just a few minutes, to let him run around and eat grass. I sat on the back steps watching him eat grass and pee on things, making sure he didn't run off. After about ten or fifteen minutes, I took him inside, much to his furry dismay.
That morning, it was my job to clear all the crap out of the car, to make room for all of our luggage. I was reluctant to do it, and held it off for as long as possible. But eventually, armed with plastic bags, I went out to our little bright red Pontiac Sunfire, to do some cleaning. I threw out trash and collected recycling, cursing the heat and how gross the car was. I was nearly done cleaning out the foot well, when my mother came outside. She needed to make a quick trip to the store, much to my frustration. I was trying to clean out the car like she asked me to! But her errand provided an excuse for me to get out of the sun, so I climbed out of the car and headed for the stairs to our back porch. She asked me if I wanted an energy drink, but I declined, explaining that they wreaked havoc with my stomach. A few years ago, I would have eagerly accepted such an offer, but now I find that energy drinks have an odd aftertaste, and as I mentioned, make me feel gassy and bloated. Mom offered to get me a bottled Starbucks Mocha Frappuchino, instead. It was exactly what I wanted.
Mom drove off, and I went inside to continue packing and read some Sandman. I had packed my paisley duffel bag with my clothes for the weekend and my makeup and toiletries. I was going to fill my lavender and black backpack with my music, a couple of books, my teddy bear and anything I would need for my trip to The Great Escape the following day.
My mom returned from the store with our drinks and some breakfast. She got me a Koffee Kup Bakery cruller, which is my favorite. It's your basic twisty little cruller, dusted with cinnamon and sugar; it's delicious. I retreated to my room to eat my pastry and drink my mocha frappuchino, I read more Sandman while I ate.

After I finished, I went back outside to finish cleaning the car. Mom had parked it in the shade, so I wouldn't stew in my own juices while I worked. My elderly neighbor's son was outside painting some wood. I greeted him, and set to work.
I put recycling in one bag, and trash in another. Clothes and shoes got put in a plastic bag of their own. Anything that needed to stay in the car, found a home in the foot well behind the passenger seat. Country music wafted in from next door; I recognized one of the songs from my Willsboro days (The school bus driver only let us listen to country and nothing else.). I found myself singing along softly as I worked.
When I was done cleaning the car, I brought the bags of trash, recycling and clothes upstairs into the apartment. Then I went into my room to finish packing and get dressed. Yes, I hadn't even gotten dressed yet, I was still clad in my PJs.
I got easily distracted by Sandman. I should have been getting dressed, but I was too busy reading about The Endless, Hob Gadling and Cluracan of Faerie. I bet you're thinking, why didn't I just pack it up, so I could read it in the car? I would have, but I happened to be reading The Absolute Sandman, which is roughly the thickness of a phone book, and one of the longest and widest tomes I have ever held in my hands. It is also heavier than a newborn baby. Mom suggested that I could just carry it loose in the car, but I never got around to doing that. I would endure a weekend without my favorite comic.
I finally managed to get dressed and do my toilette (I love saying that). I powdered my body and put on deodorant. Then I dressed in my black t-shirt with the white stripes, my denim miniskirt and a pair of flip-flops. For a final touch, I pinned my "I Need Adult Supervision" button onto my shirt.

I'm going to tell you right now, that I'm not describing every single detail of Friday morning in this blog. There really isn't a point. Between all the packing and preparing, nothing of note really occurred. I'm omitting minor events, that really have no place in my narration. I tend to make my blogs too rich and dense, and you'll notice that this time around, my writing has taken on a very simple tone, with slightly plainer details. I haven't gone off into any tangents...yet.
By noon, we had managed to get most of our luggage and bedding out onto the back porch, ready to load into the car. My sister and I kept this activity interesting by engaging in banter. At one point when I jokingly informed her that I was a doctor she asked:
"Doctor of what?"
At a loss for words, I responded: "Doctor of Shut The Fuck Up, that's what!"
Next door, the neighbor's middle-aged son (the guy who was painting) erupted into laughter, as did my mother and sister, I do believe. I admit that the spontaneous zing was vaguely amusing, mainly because of its delivery. I'm usually only funny when I'm not trying to be. I had been searching for a wittier reply, but had only come up with that. Unexpected gold.
Finally, we had the car loaded up. The trunk and the backseat (save for where I would be sitting) was stuffed to the gills with suitcases, duffel bags, pillows, lawn chairs and the odd battle ax (I kid, I kid). We piled into the car and pulled out of the driveway. We managed to leave the house sometime between 12:00 and 12:30, just when my mom wanted to. So far, so good. We were on our way.

Coming up in part two...a few minor setbacks, and a surprise celebrity appearance (in the form of a window cling)!

What's coming up for Musings and Ponderings

I've been trying to avoid writing more memoirs. So far it's been easy, because I haven't had any ideas for new ones. Nor was I in the mood to write any non-memoir entries, simply because of my ever-present writer's block.
But this morning, I had idea for a new memoir. Yes, I know, I write too many of these, and they're usually about Amusement Parks, most notably The Great Escape and Splashwater Kingdom. I swear, I blog about them so much they should pay me!
This coming weekend, I will be attending my Aunt Jenny's vow renewal ceremony, in upstate New York. The main event is taking place on Sunday, but my mother, sister and I will be leaving this Friday. On Saturday, my Uncle Russel will be taking me to The Great Escape, since the Vow Renewal Ceremony will be nearby. The entire weekend I think, will be perfect fodder for my blog. I will be writing this in three or four volumes. The first volume will cover the events of Friday, when we will drive from Bellows Falls, VT to Mechanicsville, NY. This will be a fairly short volume, with few chapters. The second volume will involve my trip to The Great Escape with my uncle. This might be my longest volume, for you all know that I can describe an amusement park trip in great detail. The third volume will be an account of the Ceremony and following reception. I do not know how many chapters this one will contain. The final volume will describe the trip home. This will possibly be the most boring memoir I have ever written.
This is clearly the most ambitious and self-indulgent blog project I have ever undertaken. It might be a bad idea. It certainly won't earn me any more followers.
Why don't I lump the entire weekend into one single memoir, instead of writing four separate ones? I did that with Hershey after all; I certainly didn't divide that entire adventure into parts. So why am I doing it for this adventure, before it has even started? Have I finally lost it? Writers are horrible people. We take every aspect of our lives and use it for our art. I feel like I'm exploiting this weekend. I feel perhaps, with this epic four volume memoir series, I'm going too far. Who knows if I am or not? I may not even write about everything, just Saturday's events. I'm afraid that intending to write about this event may raise my expectations, or somehow make my feelings about the weekend less genuine. Tell you what, I'll stop thinking about it, and put these plans on the back burner. I'll enjoy this weekend for what it is, spending time with family, witnessing two people renew their vows and seeing my grandma for the first time in ten years.