The Day We Arrived

My dad gave each of the siblings a $10 bill before we went to the airport because we'd get there around lunch time and he told us we should use it to get something to eat before we got on the plane. At about 11:25 I asked when the plane would board if we were leaving at 12, and it turned out it was boarding at 11:30, so we all got up to get food. I couldn't find much that I liked except a tiny candy shop with a small pack of three peppermint patties, so I bought that. I paid for it with my $10 bill and it cost $.89, so the change was $9.11, which was great, considering I was about to fly. My mom is TERRIFIED of flying and I considered showing her the receipt or telling her, but then decided against it.

Earlier in the day I had been texting Gina and we realized that it was the one-year anniversary of Sarah's after Christmas party, which was the day that we were blessed with the Best Txt Ever.

The man sitting next to me was old, very wide and big but not fat, had a full head of hair despite his age, and dark and somewhat leathery skin. His wife sat in front of him because US Airways separated them, as it had separated my family, so I also sat alone. I had a window seat, and the man had the center seat. He tried to take an empty seat by his wife, but then a commanding woman came from first class and said "Oh No, They Gave Me That Seat" and made the man go back and sit in the middle next to me. She was a jerk. The man didn't have much respect for my personal space and his elbows crowded me the whole time. His feet were in place but he spread his legs out at the knees, so that crowded me too. I spent the whole time reading Newsweek for the Hi-Q team but didn't even finish. We spent a lot of time on the tarmac, too. I also took a lot of pictures, and discovered that my camera DOES have a long exposure setting!

There were also some asshole teenagers on the plane sitting behind me, somewhere near my sister. Apparently they talked about some friend's mom being hot and made the mom in front of them angry, and she told them they were dirty-mouthed and inappropriate. Apparently there was a disagreement over the possible meanings of the word "stud." Apparently she talked to a flight attendent about them and that angered them even more (she sat right in front of them), and they accosted her further after that. My sister loudly said "THEY SOUNDED LIKE ASSHOLES" behind them as we walked off the plane and one of them heard her, which was the goal.

I ate all my peppermint patties on the plane, faster than I had expected. They didn't make a very good lunch so I was very hungry by the time we got off and it took forever to unboard. I bought a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos when we got off because I am a gross person.

My parents were sort of irritable the whole day, which usually happens. My dad really hates airports and my mom hates flying and she hates when things don't go perfectly according to plan, which happened when Enterprise didn't give us the kind of rental car that she asked for. Even though the Jeep we got is perfectly fine, she was still upset and angry about it. I wish that she wouldn't be like that, I wish she would be more like me, No-Drama Obama.

...

We went to a place called Shrimper's for dinner because my mom wanted fish dip, which my brother thought was hilarious. I got a chocolate milk so it was good. I wondered if I should still buy an apartment at PSU because of the market conditions, figuring a depression would completely sink me if I couldn't find renters. My dad talked about why he got out of the deal (on a technicality) for the property he had bought in Florida. We also caught my sister up on another divorce in the 'family'. My dad's brother is getting one, and my mom's best friend (who we call my aunt) is getting one. This is the one whose son drowned, if you are familiar. It's really sad, but apparently this often happens to couple whose only child dies, I don't know.

When we were at Shrimper's I took off my Brasil jacket and was wearing my Change We Can Believe In shirt beneath it. My sister and I went to the bathroom at the same time and apparently people were arguing about Obama at the bar, and my sister wondered if I had instigated it with my shirt. We had come across an Obama-mania booth earlier at the Philly airport, staffed by an Asian girl who smiled sheepishly at me when I did to her, after my sister pointed it out to my Obama-obsessed mom.

I took a picture of my food at Shrimper's because it was chicken tenders but I took off the tender and just ate the chicken, and by tender I mean the bread parts. My sister said I would post it on Facebook and it would be embarassing, but I never do that, but now I might and tag the picture with her so she'd be embarassed.

We were driving around Florida and talking about Christmas lights on the way to one of the houses (Fred's, where we are staying, or David's, my uncle whom we are visiting) and my brother and dad talked about white and blue christmas lights. They said it means you don't really believe, and my brother said, No, it's not like they spell it out. My dad said, "That's what blue lights spell if you really look closely, 'I Hate Jesus'." Which was out of character for him, and thus very funny.

Wendy plays guitar, which is really cool. She's my Uncle David's wife. The baby is really cute and my grandmom loves holding it, which is equally cute. Everyone liked my Obama shirt, which was very nice. Jenn, the sister of David and my dad, has apparently done a great job of liberalizing her children. They referred to Sarah Palin as "A STUPID IDIOT!!" and Richard apparently threw a baseball at her when she was on TV. For reference, he is 10 and his brother is 8. They were also disappointed that their public elementary school voted went for McCain when the kids were asked to vote.

We played tag outside and my uncle Dave talked about how this place is a blast from the past, telling a story about getting Wendy's very old knives sharpened at a blade sharpening specialty shop right from the 1950s. Her father was a butcher, or maybe grandfather. I tried to use my long exposure but the stars weren't shining strong enough, or the other lights were too strong.

Peace out.

---

My heart sort of sank when I turned off the Christmas lights on the tree just a minute ago.

Peace out.

Hurricane

Hurricanes come up the east coast all the time but it's only every couple of years that a good one makes it all the way up to the Jersey shore. When it happens, adults freak out and kids get all excited because the waves look crazy, the ocean looks angry, skies look dark and the wind is incredible.

In Avalon, we're doubly lucky because we have some safe spots to view the hurricane from on the North part of the island, near 9th and 10th street. As it turns out, streets with higher numbers were put underwater by storms long ago. So much for safe, eh? But anyway! There are public bulkheads at the east ends of those streets near the inlet, and there are beaches and large rocks beneath them. The tide from the storm always covers up the little beaches, and the fierce waves are then free to crash directly on the rocks below the bulkhead, sending walls of water over the solid metal guardrail. Whenever there's a good hurricane, kids gather at the bulkhead and wait for a good wave to come, crashing onto the rocks and sending a thick wall ten feet over the guard rail and then crashing down on the kids, who scream, get soaked, and run away. Sometimes reporters come and videotape it for the news. Sometimes the streets flood and parents decide it's time to go home.

One time a hurricane came up the coast and my mom suggested my brother go "parasailing" with its wind. In this context, that means taking two broomsticks, tying a bedsheet between them, putting on rollerblades, and letting the wind blowing into the sheet carry you at crazy speeds with no effort. So we actually did it - my brother and I were both pretty good skaters. We got two brown broomsticks and went out on one of the big, long, deserted streets in Avalon with our pink bedsheet sail and went probably twenty or more miles per hour on our blades. Stopping was always the scary part. "What do we do?!" I asked Ryan the first time we did it, totally scared. He told me, "Come'ere," and he put out his hand for my broomstick, so I handed it to him and he put them together, killing the sail and letting us come to a stop. We did it a few more times, and my mom might have a videotape of it.

Our friend McKenzie who lived in Avalon wanted to try it to, so she put on her skates and gave it a try with my brother. They went about as quickly as my brother and I had before, but she didn't know how to stop, and wasn't as good at skating as I was, and I think she fell and hurt her legs at the end.

Peace out.

Twister

When the movie Twister came out (a long time ago, I think I was in first grade or so), my whole family went to see it. If you're not familiar, the plot of the movie is basically that a bunch of different teams are trying to get their devices to the center of a tornado and prove that its the best for prediction purposes. So they basically just chase tornados the whole movie and get really close so they can put their inventions into them.

About halfway through the movie or so, I started having some sort of crisis. I don't even remember how it came on. In any case, I remember feeling like I couldn't breathe, feeling like no matter how deeply I breathed in I couldn't fully satisfy the need for air, and that (this is the weird part) the responsibility for directing breathing was consciously mine for the first time. I felt like up to that point, breathing was always automatic, and now it was up to me forever, and I wondered if I would die when I slept. I did have trouble going to sleep that night.

Anyhow, I started freaking out in the theater, though not loudly, but my dad sitting next to me noticed. I'm pretty sure I got off my seat and went to the floor with my panic - the cold of movie theater floors seems to make me feel better when I feel sick. Another time I got very sick in the middle of Castaway, and went to the cold floor of the theater minutes before throwing up in the bathroom. After getting on the floor in Twister, my dad just took me outside and we sat on the curb of AMC Painter's Crossing until the movie finished, and I suppose I told him I was afraid I couldn't breathe, and he told me that everything was fine.

The whole thing was just sort of surreal, that I actually had a moment where I realized that breathing was sometimes under conscious control and sometimes not, and I went into a panic about it. I also had a moment where I realized that the nape of your neck caves inward just a tiny bit for the first time when I was about five, and I freaked out, cried, and tried to blame the woman who had just cut my hair (thankfully I was home already).

My brother insists that I was just scared by the movie, but it really wasn't a scary movie.

Peace out.

Christmas Eve

When I was younger, I remember I asked my sister if people worked on Christmas Eve. She said yeah, and I remember being really surprised. Then I remember asking her if bosses asked all the atheists to work around Christmas so everyone else could celebrate, and then I also asked if it applied to anyone who didn't celebrate Christmas, like Jews or Hindus. For some reason, Dunkin Donuts is explicity tied to this memory, and I don't know why. I think maybe we went there around Christmas, or I assume everyone working there is Indian (terrible person, I know, going straight to hell) and therefore is an example of a place not effected by Christmas celebration.

I went to the mall today for shopping and was reminded of this because - terrible person going straight to hell - an Indian woman was working somewhere in Boscov's when we entered. Actually, today in general made me feel bad for all the people that had to work today. The woman that checked us out at B&N was clearly old enough to have a family and was wearing reindeer ears, and I would have liked for her to be with her family, I think. Same for everyone else (as long as they wanted to be). Jess pretty much summed it up when we were finding a parking spot on our way over and said "You know, Christmas pretty much sucks when you're an adult."

I guess it does but I like to think it'd feel better again if it would snow.

Peace out.

Money

For the first time, today I finally spent somewhat significant amounts of money (to someone my age) for gifts to friends, without doing secret santa or whatever. I guess I finally realized that I have more than I need right now, and I definitely don't have anything better to spend it on. It felt good, actually.

Peace out.

Soco Amaretto Lime

Chloe and I listened to Soco Amaretto Lime tonight when I was taking her home from Nicki's pit reunion. I had asked her if she heard it on the way there, but we didn't have time to listen until the ride home. I told her the story, about Baccalaureate and Pat Dawe singing it, and his friends standing up and singing later. I sang softly up till the end, because I wanted to sing but didn't want to ruin the song for her. I thought her eyes looked different near the end, but I wasn't sure until after the song was over. I told her the rest of the story, about the parties and singing at the end, and I teared up a bit too. I asked her if she was sad, and she said yes, about everything, and missing things, and I said I was too. I tried to make it a little bit better by remembering that at least we had something worth missing and being sad over. I suspect we were both still a bit upset by the time we got to her house, and it probably would have been nice just to talk to my friend a bit longer 'cuz what better is there to do but it was late and it seemed someone in her house was looking for her, ending a conversation a bit too early, I think.

Peace out.