Thursday, March 17, 2011


Last weekend Jim and I headed north for a wedding. I was excited. You see, I've never really traveled much and when I did it was in the backseat of a suburban. So the idea of flying somewhere makes me want to squeal. Jim is always amused over my pleasure of it because riding a plane kind of bores him. Now that he actually does the flying, riding doesn't even get second place.
Our first flight was to Atlanta. Our first flight was also delayed. We were informed that due to our delay, we would be bumped up to first class on our second flight and oh yeah, your lunch is on us. Sweetness.
We settled into the childless children's waiting room to read. Then we wanted to watch the news regarding the earthquake. There was nobody else in the room watching the cartoon Richie Rich, so Jim changed the channel. A cop, on his cellphone, yelled across the room, "Don't change that channel!" Jim apologized and asked if he was watching the current show. The cop, glaring now, barked,"Just don't TOUCH IT!" Yikes. Take a big giant chill pill and retire, dude.

Anyway. We eventually made it to Atlanta. And then first class, baby.
It was amazing. We got our own bottle of water right off! We even had our own little package of earbuds. We kept them. Everyone had on suits and were playing hearts on their iPads. Jim had on flannel and blew his nose very loudly.

But then he decided that it was time to act like we belonged and he stuck his personal earbuds in and watched the flight attendant on his personal tv while plugged into his personal radio.

I pointed out to him that this is how you're supposed to act if flying first class bores you.

Then we rode the train. I tried not to think about how rarely they clean it by watching the gray and cold landscape pass by backwards. It didn't help.

Each train seat had emergency instructions. The instructions said things like, "Look around for immediate danger," and "Look out for others," "Look around carefully for hazards," and "Watch your step on station stairs."
The raised dots you see are Braille.
I'll try to be optimistic and assume they gave other instructions.
Maybe something like, "If you feel like an emergency is about to occur inform the closest passenger that you'll be there disaster buddy. Don't tell them you are blind. Just say that you had your pupils dilated earlier that day and you have to keep on your sunglasses. And the cane was your grandfather's who died last summer but not before he gave you a German Shepherd with a backpack."

We didn't have time for me to meet Little Miss Matched at Union Station. I'm sure we would have got along just fine.

Then, the metro. Where everybody hates everybody. Especially if you roll a suitcase behind you and take up the space of 1.5 persons instead of 1 person. But, seriously, I loved it. I held onto my husband's hand, pushed my way right behind him way and ran up escalators carrying my roller bag like a champ. As we rocked on our feet and held the (GERMY!) pole to steady ourselves, I grinned. "I'm having so much fun." He laughed and kissed me. Right there in front of the entire getting-off-of-work-from-DC-crowd. Which probably made them hate us more.

We spent the night with the amazing Kelly then drove to Bedford, PA for a beautiful wedding. And I failed to take any more pictures. But Tom and Chris were yelled at for running on "sacred ground," Dave pulled a hair out of his mouth from his breakfast that was so long we thought he was flossing, Joshy wondered why Daylight Savings Time had to happen on his wedding night, and there was a 20 foot long table of candy at the reception.

And Pennsylvania's countryside is terribly inviting.

Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Moon pie?

Mardi Gras:

The schools close for three days.
My husband gets off work for one.
The parades that throw you beads and moon pies will last all day long downtown.
Homes are covered with purple, green and gold "decorations."
And by decorations I mean masks, beads, tinsel, and moon pies. Classy, I know.

And my neighbor and her boyfriend, dressed to the hilt, leave their house at 10:40 pm for a Mardi Gras ball.... but not before backing into his car parked in the driveway.
Gotta watch out for those random cars that park behind your garage door, buddy. They'll get you every time.