is it just me?

Okay, the last you heard from me I was taking a day off to prepare for my vacation. Unfortunately part of that day was spent at the mall with all the marginal teenage help that seems to materialize this time of year. The highlight perhaps was the salesgirl at a children’s clothing shop who, when I inquired about holiday dresses said to me “um…they came in in October, so all we have left is going to be here on the clearance rack” with such an air of superiority that I could have smacked her. She might as well have said “all the moms who actually love their children bought their dresses months ago”. Little witch. Did it ever occur to you that myabe, just maybe, I had something better to do in OCTOBER than shop for holiday wear? So I showed her and bought what I can only imagine was a spring dress which she clearly did not approve of. I wanted to tell her the only reason I was even patronizing her wretched establishment was because I got a gift from there that did not fit.

Anyway, several days of preparation ensued and then it was time to head East. On Saturday morning the airline called to say our flight was late. No problem, we were flying direct so would just delay our departure from home. Then they called again to say it would be later. Still no big deal. We dropped off the dog, wasted a couple of hours on the other side of town and headed to the airport, only to find out that the entire airport was closed, our flight was cancelled, and there were no options for at least two days, maybe longer. Um….so…when you called me to say my flight was leaving at 3pm that was…wishful thinking? A ruse? What? And they felt that cancellation wasn’t news that should be delivered via phone, and it would be much more fun to tell me in person? So we unknowingly step into mass chaos, and are told that we can get on a bus that is leaving in 15 minutes for Minneapolis (a five hour ride) spend the night, and we are booked (though not given seats) on a flight that is supposed to leave at 7:15 the next morning. This all seems like a really, really bad idea. A quick family huddle later, we decide to drive. It was a rash decision at best, and a completely foolish one at worst, but before I have time to think too hard about it I get back in line, cancel my tickets and request a refund, and head for the door. We did not go home, we did not pass go, we just got on the highway and started driving east. Things I wish I had with me for a cross country drive: a map, some toys for the kid, some food for the kid, some Benadryl for the kid, our I-Pass and, um…I guess that’s it. The first three were solved by an extensive convenience store run, the latter I wished for again when she was bright eyed and bushy tailed in the middle of West Virginia at 1am. I think my mother was a touch alarmed when I called and asked her to get on the computer and get us directions. "From where?" she says. "Um...Madison to Charlottesville?" And so we headed that way, armed with a list of interstates scribbled on the back of a receipt that I found in my car door. Who needs plans? It was all very spontaneous and potentially exciting and romantic, but truthfully there is nothing romantic about driving through Ohio so in the end it was functional. And we arrived a least 6 hours earlier than we would have had we come via airplane. So there.

The drive from here to VA is not all that great. Chicago, Indianapolis, Dayton, Charleston. Heading for a city and carefully counting the miles only to realize that now there is just another city and another set of miles. At some point we need to stop (for like the billionth time, traveling unprepared with a small child is not an exercise in efficiency) and we are getting mileage readings for the town of Chillicothe, OH so we decide to head there. We pull off at the first exit, and we are seriously in a town that time forgot. We see a gas station, but upon closer inspection realize it’s closed. We stop at a scary convenience store, and pray they have a bathroom (they do not) and ask for the nearest gas station which is several blocks through town but 24 hours. I was forced to use their bathroom which was one of those weird quasi-public restrooms where it kind of seems like it is for employees only and has a bunch of weird stuff stashed in there. You couldn’t wash your hands in the sink because it was full. You know, that kind of place. Usually on interstates you get to stop at these huge over lit gas stations will full grocery stores and inexplicably friendly employees, but not in Chillicothe. Actually, maybe in Chillicothe as we realized later that the next exit looked much more promising, and much less horror movie-esque. Mr. Lizard made the decision to drive straight through, so we did. We hit some crazy fog in the West Virginia mountains at a time of day when no sane soul is awake, feared for our lives, but eventually made it to my parents’ house at 6 am. Good times. The lowlight of the trip: watching my one year old stuff 24-hour McDonald’s French fries into her piehole at 1am. The highlight: the beauty of NPR podcasts, which mean you can listen to Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me in the middle of the night anywhere in America. Bless my husband for brining along his iPod.

Then the usual week of holiday craziness ensued. Too many people in too little space but it was fun to see my nieces and nephew, and wallow in pent up family issues for a while. The whole trip had the dark cloud of the drive back hanging over it, but in the end it was really easy and actually might have convinced me to drive again if the need arose. While in VA we purchased a portable DVD player and some movies, something which I highly recommend if you are planning on driving 15 hours with a midget. Worth every penny.

Things have been kind of chaotic since we got back but not in an interesting way so we’ll leave it at that. Hopefully regular posting will now resume in earnest.