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November 30, 2001
I look at the world, and I notice it's turning...
So. Happy belated Thanksgiving. Vermont was fun -- crowded, yes, but much fun. I left work early on Wednesday (my boss kept trying to push me out the door earlier and earlier -- I told her it might be best if I left at 2 to catch the 4 o'clock bus, and she told me I could leave at noon if I wanted to. Since South Station is only a few subway stops away from where I work, I declined). It was a good thing I left when I did, though, as the bus terminal was packed. I bought two books for the trip (both Tolkien -- I will read The Silmarillion if it kills me, damn it) and picked up my ticket and some bus-snacks, and settled in to read and wait to board. The buses to Connecticut and New York were the worst -- hundreds of people waiting for very few buses. I got very little reading done, since the people-watching was more fun. When it came time for my bus to board, it was determined that there were more passengers than seats, so we sat in the terminal for ages while various Greyhound staff pleaded for people going to Hartford to get on a later bus, thus allowing the people trying to get to Lowell to board. One woman stood in the aisle and loudly bitched about how they should have reserved a seat for her, because she didn't want to share with anyone. The guy sitting next to me had the worst travel experience ever, I think: an older gentleman sitting across the aisle volunteered to get on the later bus, and stood up to collect his baggage and get off the bus. When he bent over to pick up his bags, he managed to shove his ass, complete with three inches of, er, "plumber's smile," directly into my seatmate's face. When I say directly, I mean it -- the poor guy's nose was in a place it never wanted to be. The older man straightened up, then bent over again, then straightened up... and then did it one more time. My poor seatmate was leaning against me, clinging to my shoulder, and making faint whimpering noises. When the older man finally got off the bus, we both breathed a sigh of relief... then, a moment later, he very faintly said "I think my whole life just flashed before my eyes." I laughed, and said that I really needed a car. "What, and miss the scenery?" he replied. Hee.
I got to Vermont about an hour late, and my mom took me home, fed me, and put me to bed on the couch in the living room. I was awakened at 7 o'clock the next morning by the smell of pies baking -- mom got up early to get the cooking done before my brother and his girlfriend arrived. A shower, an email check, and then I settled in to watch the first episode of the Buffy marathon on FX. I was engrossed, and therefore antisocial and rude, when Mike and Mary Ann arrived at 12:30. Mary Ann wandered into the bedroom (where the only TV my mom owns lives) and settled down to watch with me. She's never seen Buffy, so I tried to explain the show to her without sounding like a nut. I'm not sure it worked. I like her very much -- the most of all my brother's girlfriends, I think. She's very easygoing, very comfortable to be around.
At around 2, the feast was cooked, so we settled down around the table -- me, my mom, Mike, Mary Ann, and my mom's downstairs neighbor. Much eating ensued -- the table is small, so my brother had to sit alone at a card table. We made far too many jokes about banishing him to the kids' table. My mom's dog was fed far too many table scraps, and we all slowly sank into food comas. After the food, Mike and Mary Ann took off to visit one of his high school friends, and I went to ease my achingly-full stomach with more Buffy.
Later that night, we decided -- okay, I decided -- that we needed to play one of our infamous Trivial Pursuit games. Normal families play nice, polite, sedate games. We are not normal. We have discovered that the best time to play is after everyone's had a glass or three of wine, and is feeling tired and goofy. We always end up laughing hysterically over silly things -- on one occasion, my brother laughed so hard he snorted most of a glass of wine, and fell off his chair. We don't play sedate, normal games. This time was no different. At one point, I was in the kitchen having a cigarette, and heard my brother asking Mary Ann "What six-word phrase was made famouys by Star Wars?" She didn't know, so he said "Come on, there's only one famous phrase from that movie!" I yelled back "I can think of three! How about 'Use the fork, Luke?'" There was a silence, then all three of them burst out laughing. Maybe you had to be there. It was comedy gold, trust me.
Friday was spent shopping with Mom -- my favorite record store ever, Sound Barrier, was closing after 17 years (sniffle) so I wanted to poke around and buy some CDs. That store was my favorite haunt in high school (mostly because I had a big crush on the owner, Jeff) and I was sad to see it fade away. Friday night, mom and I saw Harry Potter, which was way too much fun. I'd forgotten it was 2 1/2 hours long, though, so for the first hour or so I thought the pacing was all off. We didn't get home until after midnight, and then I bounced around the house keeping everyone awake until the wee hours of the morning -- seeing a good movie makes me hyper. Saturday morning, we got up ealry, and my mom drove me to White River Junction to catch an express bus back to Boston. I got stuck in the back seat of the bus behind an elderly man who had his seat reclined as far as possible (right into my kneecaps, but I think he probably was uncomfortable, so I didn't complain). I was content until the World's Largest Man sat next to me -- the guy was built like a tank, and really wanted to sprawl. He was one of those guys who feels compelled to sit with his legs spread as far as possible -- and, let me tell any men who may be reading, I hate that. That "My package is so big I have to spread my legs!" pose. Hate it. I hate having to sit on public transportation eith your leg rubbing against me, and your crotch displayed to the world. So if you do that, stop it. It's nasty. He also kept falling asleep and slumping over onto me, so I spent two hours squished into the smallest corner of the seat, unable to move my arms or legs. Not fun. It's safe to say I was a wee bit cranky when I got to Boston. I staggered home, and took a very long shower, and went to bed.
So. That was Thanksgiving. Other than that, not much going on in my life. I was very sad to see that George Harrison died -- my favorite Beatle was Paul when I was younger, but George grew on me. My earliest memories are of napping in my little rocking chair, in front of the stereo speakers, while my dad played The Beatles and Bob Dylan. I turned on the TV this morning, and saw (weirdly enough) my college boyfriend's father being interviewed. I stopped to watch, amused, and when they said he'd died, I sat down hard and just stared at the TV for a while, until I was late for work. I knew he was sick, I just didn't want to see him go. It's sad when a true legend dies.
Posted by Mary Ellen at November 30, 2001 09:11 PM