Lets take a moment and examine this word: calm. One would think this would involve rest, a lack of worry. But yet we use the word calm in sentence like, "The calm before the storm." How is one calm before a storm. Oh but that takes me to my original point...
I wake up on Wednesday at 5:30 am to hear massive winds and loud thunder blowing out my window. It being early in the morning I jump out of bed and say to myself, "Thank God! The humidity will now be broken!! But I should turn off my computer, if the power goes out it could get fried." I do so and return back to sleep.
Funnel clouds were seen in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. That's like a 20 min trip from me. I was on the edge of a tornado. A sign, some would say...yet I chose to ignore it and go on my way.
The humidity never broke.
I'm talking mountains in space, hey I love you, set those sails!
Getting to Tarrytown to meet my parents went smoothly. It was moments before they picked me up. We drove, I talked, they talked. I finally finished Harry Potter 5. One would believe that I was finishing Gone With The Wind in the time it took me to finish that book. I listened to my musicals, as I often do. We got caught in traffic. We had yet to arrive at our destination and my mother was already worrying about that we should go home on Saturday, instead of the planned Sunday trip home.
My mother worries a lot, almost too much. She will end up in not a good way I feel. But we shall get to that sooner, rather than later.
Getting to Wildwood, is always thrilling. As is reaching your destination in any trip. It was humid as hell, at 10 at night. But it was nice to arrive.
I'm 22. An adult. Yet the moment I told me mother, "I'm going to walk on the boardwalk alone." My mother responds with, "No you're not! It's almost 11 at night." This set the tone for the entire vacation.
This trip was mild. There was no crazy stories. I didn't sneak out at night, meet some guy under the boardwalk and make memories. I spent it with my family. 22 and yet I hung out with a 13, 12 and 9 year old. They were my posse. We went on rides, we laughed. It was fun.
I didn't wear a shirt and tried to get a tan. I succeeded in somewhat getting color on my skin, despite the large amounts of sunscreen I applied.
I had a bonding experience with my sister (the 13 year old), as we were strapped into a giant sling shot ride and rocketed into the air at full speed. We bought a DVD of it. It's me laughing hysterically, while she screams at the top of her lungs.
The Yin to my Yang.
I watched my sister, in her awkward year (though coming out of it with a nice figure and only mild skin problems) We do need to work on the hair, but she's getting there. I watched her look at guys and remember when I saw 13 and I was watching the shirtless men of the beach. I realized my parents had unknowingly raised a teenage daughter almost 10 years before they had to go through this with my sister.
We interrupt this entry. The Eccentric Iguana took the time to hang out with a man who he spent the night with, so this entry we will restart now, but at 12:21 pm the next day...
The trip ended on a somewhat sour note, actually there were many sour notes on the trip. Like waiting two hours to sit at a restaurant, and finally getting a table (after I fought the hostess to get one) and my dad saying that we are leaving now. After we ate all the bread, mind you.
Or waking up super early to go deep sea fishing on a choppy water day. So everyone got sea sick, save for myself, my aunt and my mother. My aunt and I spent time laughing hysterically at the others getting sick. My aunt and I are born of the same evil tree. I won a pool that my family made who could catch the first fish. I only won because they all got sick at the start of fishing. Just kidding, I have amazing fishing skills.
The final worst part was the very end of the trip. My mother stresses out too much. People wonder why I am crazy, they need but to meet both my parents to figure it out why. My father's loud mouth that easily offends mixed with my mothers nerves and inability to make up her mind has created something that defies both of them.
My mother stressed out the entire trip (starting on the drive down) about whether to leave on Saturday evening or Sunday morning. We all knew it would be the former. But I told her, just dropping me off at Tarrytown at 9 pm at night will not mean I am home. It's not fair to end my vacation a day early and then leave me to make an extra long trip home. So through some suggestions they decided to drop me off at my apartment, by way of Staten Island.
My mother can't read maps, so she had to drive. We got lost, she freaked out more. Every "wrong turn" she got worse. Basically by the time we got to my apartment. The getting lost which only REALLY delayed us probably 20 mins.
She broke down in tears. It was not a happy moment.
Why do housewives cry? Is it truly because the cake came out burnt?
I calmed her the best I could and she left me. I sat there for five minutes, but only five minutes. After they had left. And watched in my mind as it became more clear of why I am the way I am.
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