Caustically Optimistic

astronaut diapers

In preparing to visit Texas I've made a list because I have to plan to plan because planning is succeeding and also terribly annoying.  I first needed to list what I'll list and then fill in the attendant lists then type the lists and check them for accuracy and then print them and hand serve them to anyone I've deputized on the lists and also email the lists so they're forever burned into the memory of the internet and this step also removes the ability to claim plausible deniability.

The list to prepare for this trip includes: pre-flight checklist, what to pack, itinerary, contacts and blessings, provisions, maps, worst case scenarios, in-flight entertainment, and structured activities for free time.

 A pre-flight checklist is pretty self-explanatory: what needs to happen to the car before we take off for Texas?  I need to get an oil change, tire rotation and complementary pre- trip inspection at the dealer.  It's important that I give he dealer a good chance to fleece me before I leave town.  If they didn't go over one hundred twenty points on the car they might miss out on hundreds of dollars of unneeded service work.  I also need to get the car's interior cleaned because it's pretty filthy.

Then, I have to consider what to pack.  I am going to need to bring underwear, lots and lot of underwear.  My first college roommate lives in the same city as Amy – who is traveling with me – and that roommate has a fetish for my underwear and I need to have enough underwear for him, and for me.  The last time I went to see Amy we had to buy underwear in the middle of the trip.  I may also need extra clothes to change in and out of, pajamas for sleeping and for the Hugh Hefner party Kevin is throwing in Oklahoma, City.  While I write this I realize that underwear was a huge fetish at my college, not just for my roommate but also for others.  My friend Tracey lives in constant fear that a sasquatch is going to steal her panties and advised me on more than one occasion to split my underwear up and hide them around my room in case it was raided.  What is wrong with you, Concordia?  Even Alex Vance is setting this aside in the list of, “no one wants this Photoshop!” 

Our itinerary is another issue. We like to stop along the way and have our photo made by the strange and horrible things that towns set up to lure people away from the interstate.  We also need to plan our trip along a reasonable route where we’ll get there quickly and with time to see our friend Kevin along the way as well.  While in Dallas we will also need a way to fill our time that is not spent visiting our sick friend, as she’ll need to rest and her husband works – whatever that is.  A co-worker suggested taking in a Dallas Cowboys game and as I know so much about football the idea seems as exciting as witnessing a live birth.  Also, I’m not an expert in how the National Football League schedules its games but I positive they don’t do things on demand.  That’s Gail. 

Before we leave on any trip together, because we cause mayhem wherever we are together, we need the blessing of our RA: the mighty Candace of Jurchen.  I have sent an offering to her and requested her blessing, I even sent a token of appreciation to her sister who is formidable but not quite as powerful.  We also had to ask Matt permission to visit and find out how to contact the people we need to along the way for our trip to be successful.  I also arranged the day off at work, which has put out a lot of people who I now owe favors or have called in all my chips.  Nicole and especially Matthew are absolutely any offering unto the Jurchen and any concession to the conglomerate that employs me.  We also petitioned the State Department for permission to leave the United States.   

We also needed to be provisioned for the trip.  Unleaded Dr. Pepper for me, leaded for her and a host of snacks that will remain unopened.  We always get a bunch of stuff and never touch it – and by ‘we’ I may have meant ‘I.’ Amy and I also stop to eat so we can stretch and use a bathroom we think is clean.  We have very strict rules about where we eat.  The chicken, if we eat chicken, must be white meat and they must serve Coke products.  Exceptions are made for Star Wars kids meals as they almost always come with Dr. Pepper (an exception to every rule!).  We tend to prefer Cracker Barrel but we eat at Denny’s because it’s free.  Amy and I enjoy Chinese food but you can never trust it; it’s a long trip and we don’t have Astronaut diapers – Bryan took those, too. 

In flight entertainment means that I have to come up with corny mix tapes of music for the trip, while Amy finds a book on a tape for us to listen to (or not).  We also need games to eat our time on the hours and hours between corny roadside attractions, and seeing Kevin.  Our mission isn’t a happy one and it’s essential that we don’t make the trip a crescendo to a very hard good-bye.  Mad-libs and Harry Potter on CD might lessen the fostering anxiety.  The most important thing we always do is maintain a record of every important event and present it to Matthew upon the completion of what we’re doing.  Amy and I have been doing this for over ten years and somewhere Matt has all these records treasured up in case there is ever a shortage of toilet paper. 

I skipped worse case scenarios because we like to dream those up on the way and in the car.  We’ll report back with the top ten horrible things that could, and should, have happened.  This will be in the record. 

In fact, we’ll be making a list on the trip of things we need to tell you about immediately and after we return.  Stay tuned.  

Where Were You?

Sunday, the Internet at our parent’s house went down and due to my impending move and the need for directions I had to go someplace with wireless internet. This, of course, led us to sit in the parking lot of Mc Donald’s and use their wireless internet – for which you pay three dollars for two hours. I found this ridiculous, but not as ridiculous as Mom and I staying there until we had gotten our money’s worth.

I was downloading an audio book from iTunes because the road of life is just too long and too devoid of radio not to have one. I found some classics on iTunes but also the Cliff’s Notes to the books. This leads me to ask, most seriously, how lazy are you that you have to listen to the Cliff’s Notes? I think I am lazy listening to the book instead of reading it – I really have to wonder how lazy you are if you listening to the abridged version boiled down. Monday, I listened to biographies of Patrick Henry and William Shakespeare and Tuesday and today – if the wireless internet I am stealing holds out I will be listening to A Moveable Feast because I love it and I have up to sixteen hours in the car.

To quickly answer this question: where were you when your diarrhea came back? You are in Middle America and only after having run out of Clorox wipes. It is times like that you thank your parents for having you trained as a gymnast.

Today is the final push into Phoenix. Wish me luck.

Manhattan

When you come home from a trip to New York City you take a shower. You do not do this when you come home from Denver or Pittsburgh. I love New York but I always leave feeling like I am covered in a film produced by the cornucopia of pollution wafting around in the city air.

Yesterday’s trip to New York began as usual: New Haven to Grand Central Station – and uneventful ride. However, I had fallen asleep on the train and being seated by the window my head kept bobbing into it as I slept. When I woke up, the otherwise respectable man sitting next to me had his arm around my head to prevent this as if it were the most natural thing in the world. I think he owes me dinner, maybe a movie to push him over fifty dollars.

These trips normally progress toward meeting someone someplace well known, not ridiculous. My friend, Colleen, works in an office off Time’s Square so we met in Time’s Square.

Those of you who have not been to New York just let out an “oh” while those of us who have lived or visited in New York let out an “ew.” Colleen describes the smell of the Square as “Baked Urine.” The could shut down Times Square again, as they did for Tom Cruise, and scrub the place down but then it would lose its charm and that aroma of, “Nice place to visit, wouldn’t want to live here.” I took Colleen and I half an hour to find each other and that is almost completely my fault. Her part of the blame comes from not realizing that I was a half wit.

After meeting up we walked passed Union Square, all the time Colleen is in heels, to a Vietnamese Restaurant where we were promptly seated, fed and pushed back out the door. Mc Donald’s is not as fast as these people which lead us to believe that our food (Pad Thai for her, Chicken in some ginger goo for him) was actually someone else’s. We had both skipped lunch so we figured by eating it we were establishing it as our own and the people it was intended for would not want it. Our dinner was accompanied by the entertainment of a medium sized, middle aged woman in clothes built for a smaller sized, younger woman who bounced and burst out of her clothing at every angle while flirting with her date. Poor Victoria, she hoped to keep that secret but it was not meant to be.

After dinner we strolled about New York, observing it and taking pictures of it. At one point we encountered a concert near NYU and the quote of the week when Colleen declared, “This is full of old people, it has to suck.” Indeed, it did. We walked past bars and restaurants, art galleries and massage parlors and to the Hudson River – with its lovely view of New Jersey. New Jersey is best seen at night, you do not actually see it. Luckily, I had picked up a hard copy of “the Onion” while we were walking along the river because a group of young wiper snappers told us we had better watch our back. Had I not had my newspaper to thwack them with declaring, “Kind sir, where are your manners? I am from Connecticut!” this story would have a different ending.

And indeed the story ends with the air-conditioned subway ride back to our train stations and good-byes, my train ride to Connecticut was uneventful but that is nothing to complain about. Colleen estimates we walked six miles around Manhattan – but I think of it is as time well spent.

Pittsburgh

Yesterday I began my move to Phoenix by leaving my parents house in Kentucky and returning to Connecticut. I am not there yet; I stopped in Pittsburg for lunch with my friend Stanley before finishing the day in New Jersey at my Uncle’s house. My drive this summer from Connecticut to Nebraska, Minnesota and points between had been uneventful until Yesterday. My trip to Pittsburgh was a fiasco.

Stanley and I know each other from Middle School and boy scouts but had not caught up in as many years as we have not lived in Germany. Bean found him on My Space, but they were not friends so I am not sure why she was looking for him or if she just stumbled across him.

So, I stopped in Pittsburg at Primanti Brothers, which is apparently Pittsburgh’s famous sandwich. This sandwich is a sandwich with coleslaw and French fries ON it. According to Stanley the story goes like this: they were opening their sandwich stand, and someone forgot to order plates. They had to serve lunch so they just put the slaw and potatoes on the sandwich. This sounds disgusting but it was fantastic, probably the best sandwich I have ever had. I was amazed because before this summer I have not even been an eater of coleslaw.

Pittsburg was a fiasco, however, because of how incredibly lost I had gotten myself because of poor directions from Google Maps and the incontinence of Pittsburg. Google maps tells you to take a road or to turn onto a road but they do not tell you right or left in many cases and then you add to that Pittsburgh does not mark some streets and I totally missed the sign. I was driving around for about an hour and a half while Stan stood starving in the parking lot.

This sandwich looks disgusting, but growing up in Germany you learn to try things that you would not normally try. Half the time you throw up in the car on the way home and so the other half of the time it turns out okay, and usually is pretty good. It is probably the most disgusting thing I have put in my mouth but it was fantastic. If you are in Pittsburg, get better directions than mine and buy Stan lunch. So far, he is the most interesting person I have dug up or been dug up by from ‘back in the day.’

Stanley went on to save my life later in the day as he told me how to subscribe to the “Wait, Wait! Don’t Tell Me!” Podcast from NPR. The Penn Turnpike is death by boredom and without that on my iPod I would have surely died.

To experience Stan's cleverness click <- that link.