Thursday, December 30, 2004

It's the Holiday Season... So HoopDeeDoo...

Vacation for the holidays. A time for family. And in order to make it happen, lots of traveling must occur. And apparently, mostly by me.

If I put time and energy into this post I would give you a breakdown of total time I spent traveling to somewhere and the mileage involved. I’m not putting that much effort into it. Forget it. That sounds like math.

But I will give you this:

3 hour drive from DC to Philly.

Flight number 1: delayed


Flight number 2: delayed, making the layover way too long. I’m sorry Memphis, you’re not that exciting.

Lost baggage, complete with a long ass line to stand in to say, “Hey, you lost my bag. It’s small and black and has wheels; it looks like every other bag you lost. Deliver it to this address.”

Rental car: Even though I had a reservation for an economy sized car, they didn’t have any. I was given a minivan at the economy rate. I still don’t know if that’s good or bad news, because… ew, minivan.

A very merry Christmas time, indeed… without my luggage. It arrived 2 days after I did. But, I did get to not travel anywhere for 2 whole days.

Then, more travel.

Drive to Dallas/Ft. Worth airport to pick up my sister: 2.5 hours one way, 5 total driving hours.

Then, the drive from Longview to Hondo. This is a 7.5 hour drive, not including pit stops for food and other necessities. Like gas. And… you know…

Stayed in Hondo for (wait, I’m really going to do the math…) 39 hours and 48 minutes. Then, I turned my little minivan around and drove the 7.5 hours back. (It takes 8 when you make the stops and you’re by yourself.) The good news is that I didn’t get lost.

And now, I sit here, waiting for my laundry to finish so I can pack and continue the trip with flights 3 and 4 tomorrow morning. This time I hope to not have to hang out in the Memphis airport for 5 hours. Because, really… boring.

And a few days later, I shall make the 3 hour drive from Philly to DC again and end the trip where I started.

In 10 days I have never spent so much cumulative time in a car/plane/airport in my life. I’ve just crammed 3 different trips into one huge vacation. It’s insanity. And not recommended for those of you who have not trained for years to sit on your ass and do nothing, while still not falling asleep. Seriously, leave it to the pros like me.

Parts of the trip that you may or may not read further about at a later time:
- Everyone hates my driving but me
- The weirdness of the announcement
- Animatronic Charles at the Dr Pepper Museum in Waco, TX
- Conflict of music interests between the Blackwell sisters
- Cows and Dogs
- Handguns and Bullets
- The shear number of times I did laundry and packed my suitcase
- Internet withdrawal in the middle of nowhere, TX
- The damn chiming clock (die!)
- Cherry Vanilla Dr Pepper, who knew?
- How Sarah McLachlan and I made up, for now
- The Frostee and it’s impossible thickness
- My anticipation over the taped AMC episodes I missed

And, of course, whatever events occur with the trip back to Philly, whatever ends up going down on New Year’s Eve and day… and the drive home.

But now it’s time to fold my clothes and pack them all away, again.

Wit may return to my writing once I get home… however… I make no promises, and blame central time for everything.

Blog End.

Friday, December 17, 2004

My Love For Charles Alderton

Carbonated water, high fructose corn syrup and/or sugar, caramel color, phosphoric acid, artificial and natural flavors, sodium benzoate (preservative), caffeine.

These eight (or nine) things in combination make the most perfectly delicious and refreshing soft drink in the world. And if I drink seven and a half of them a day, I could totally get my daily supply of carbs. Who needs nutrition anyway? I’m nearly positive one can run on sugar and caffeine for days.

I’m an addict. Sure, it seems harmless. A simple pleasure… but try to talk to me at noon if I haven’t had had my morning soda. I’ll be going through caffeine withdrawal symptoms. Headache, crankiness, paranoia. And I mean extreme and unreasonable suspicion that you’ve stolen my liquidy goodness. Because why haven’t I had it yet? It’s NOON.

I praise the genius that is Charles Alderton. I worship at his feet. I adore him every time I pick up a frosty can and pop the top, hearing that crisp release of pressure and satisfying scrape of aluminum past aluminum. Because the first taste, that first swallow, when you’re completely parched and in need of thirst quenching… that is the best part.

The pure brilliance of the drink is that it’s good cold, it’s good warm, it’s good carbonated, it’s good flat, it’s good alone, it’s good mixed with… other things… In other words, it’s the best beverage ever created.

Charles Alderton, Mastermind. Inventor. Genius extraordinaire.

Pavlov would be proud. My mouth is watering as I write this. So, I’m cutting this praise short and venturing into the kitchen for my pop. Because, it’s almost noon, and well past time for indulgence in my favorite simple pleasure.

Oh, how I love you, Dr Pepper.

Please recycle.

Blog End.

Wisdom To Go [Stirred Not Shaken]

Profound. That is what I am.

Deep, with great perception, understanding, and knowledge. In other words, drunk.

It’s quite amazing. And legal. And sometimes I don’t know why. Other than the fact that prohibition sucked and everyone found a way around the rules. Just the act of prohibiting something makes you want it more. No wonder it didn’t stick. The golden jewel, just out of reach, the brass ring. Like the carrot in front of the tortoise, coaxing it along towards something unknown. Maybe something that’s not necessarily good for it. Like the trail of Reese’s Pieces that trapped ET in Elliot’s custody. He was totally kidnapped. Am I the only one that sees that? Just like alcohol leads some people into trouble. The great equalizer.

With the exception of me, tonight. I’m totally smart right now, and no one is around to witness it. I should use this time productively. I should study for my last final. I should learn finite math. I should cure cancer. I should… well, I’m not quite sure what to do with profoundly smart. And I’m not so sure I really do productive well. As we can see, from the creation of blog at 2am while drunk… when there are finals looming in the near future.

Productive is really not my forte. I’m more like the Queen of Slackerdom or Princess of Procrastination. It works for me. It agrees with me. It agrees with alcohol on Thursday night. This from the girl who didn’t drink on Thirsty Thursday with the rest of the college campus. Right now I can say there would be three people that would be amazingly proud of how much I’ve grown since then. I won’t name them. They know who they are.

But back to the thought I was originally trying to have… alcohol, legal at 21. As if 21 somehow makes you magically responsible. Or able to hold your liquor. Or maybe just able to conduct a stream of consciousness while under the influence. But I don’t think age matters much. I know 23 year olds who are way more responsible and apparently older and wiser than their years. I also know people who are quite opposite. They're more fun. And I think how you act under the influence of alcohol is all about the company you keep.

The sad drunk, the angry drunk, the violent drunk, the horny drunk, the funny drunk, the foolish drunk, the fall-down-drunk drunk, the to-hell-with-responsibility-I-can-blame-it-on-alcohol drunk, the giggly drunk, the depressed drunk… the rambling drunk… did I have a point? Other than “look, I know adjectives“?

We want what we can’t have. Lots. Alcohol makes that worse. Trust me. And sometimes, walking toward the light leads you to the promise land of granted wishes. And once we’ve obtained what we’ve wanted, it’s not at shiny as it appeared in the showroom window. We want what we can’t have, we don’t want it anymore once we finally get it, and we don’t realize what we have - until it’s gone. Lather, Rinse, Repeat. The circle of life... it moves us all.

My advice: Get over it. Satisfaction is never guaranteed, no matter what’s written on the packaging. Learn to want less, expect less… and sometimes you’re pleasantly surprised. Things cannot be both “new” and “improved”. Once you improve upon something, it’s no longer new. It’s just not.

So, be a slacker. Be selfish. Make yourself happy. Drink on a Thursday night after finals.

Or don’t. Because, as I’m sure you’ve noticed before, people who are drinking are always recruiting others. But who wouldn’t want to join the fun after the first drunken “I love you” slips from someone’s lips? Most of the time, I’m that kind of drunk. I’m the one who loves everyone, who touches everyone, and who thinks that every conversation is intimate, personal, and secretive. And slightly humorous if not mostly hilarious. I think I should apply that drunken philosophy to the rest of my sober life.

Spell checker rocks my world. I think it was invented for clumsy drunken fingers at 2am.

Blog End.