O’Hayyyy From Midway
* Out of DC…1 ambien, 2 Advil PM, 2 Klonipin…and I’m in Atlanta in the span of 10 minutes. Who knew pills made you travel at light speed? Note…to…self! (Aaron hates planes. Ironic, as his dad was a flight engineer all his life.)
* Connecting in Atlanta and arriving at our new gate. I step away and come back to a gate change. Then when we get to the new gate it changes again. Then it changes again on the way to that one. When we get to the farthest reaches of E-terminal it changes yet again…to yet an even farther reach of said international terminal. Temptations to say ‘fuck it’ and hit one of the other choices ensue. Guadalajara…Paris…Johanessburg…anyone? Beuller? Am I surprised, you ask? Why…no. Of course not.
* Meeting Josh’s mom at the airport. Midway, mind you. Not O’Hare. Midway. We get in the rental car and she’s rented a GPS unit. I decide immediately that iPhone-Google is better, so I start guiding us from the start. Besides. I’ve lived here. I’m semi-good. We get on 55N because I plan on taking us up the coast. But the GPS keeps saying to go South because it apparently wants us to go inland. We get onto 294N before I give up the war (accompanied by many a verbal tit tat between the three of us) and wait for my “I told you so” moment…which occurs…but only after we’ve gone in a complete circle which lands us in a Culver’s. Josh and his mom have their first Culver’s experience. Aaron has his ‘told you so’ moment, but says nothing. Stop. The. Presses. Progress, at the eleventh hour.
Update: I forgot to mention as part of this post how you probably shouldn’t travel with Diesel cologne in the little red bottle. My bottle of pills got soaked in it after the little red bottle exploded. I didn’t really have a choice when I discovered this…in the parking lot of Culvers…but to get the pills dried out into a napkin. You probably wouldn’t enjoy having to eat cologne-soaked pills. I……..did not. We all smelled great when we arrived at the hotel though.
* Josh’s cousin’s military school graduation. Aaron sits in a combination of awe, morbid curiousity and disgust at the display of automatonism surrounding him. No, not the newly spawned sailors. The audience members. In a series of kneel-sit-stand’s (minus the kneeling) he generates the flotation of his own back teeth.
* Finding Casa Bonita. Yes. It exists. And we found it. In Libertyville. Someone call Cartman.
* Seeing Squirrel on a poster for a brew pub. Always nice to see his face, full of nut or not.
* Getting a text from Monkey about beanbag chairs.
Back to DC in the AM for the tail end (har) of MAL.