I realize that it has been awhile since my last blog. The holidays get really busy and exciting, so I forgot. I mean, I’m sure I had the time to write, but I just didn’t think to do it. So anyway, Happy New Year! 2009 was a good year. I graduated in 2009… which was cool, also somewhat unfortunate, but cool nonetheless. I had a lot of adventures that year, too! I’d rather not go into a full-detailed recap of 2009, but in broad, vague terms just know that spring semester of senior year was legendary with a most-epic spring break in Florida with friends and family, along with a random-awesome summer, a formative and transitional fall, and a ridiculously cold winter. I did a lot of complaining in 2009, but I did a LOT of laughing as well. Fun always wins, and I surely had a fun year.
I’d like to share the tale of my New Year’s adventure. It would only be appropriate that my first post of the 2010 be about the events leading up to and occurring at the start of 2010. So…
December 29th: I’m sitting around the dinner table with my family. My sister has been in town for Christmas, and tonight was the night before her early morning departure back to Florida. As we sit there enjoying dinner, a friend from church drops by to deliver a Christmas gift, and she then talks about the choir schedule with my parents. She reminds my parents that there won’t be any rehearsal tomorrow night. It was then that my dad replies, “We weren’t planning on going anyway because we’ll be at that concert.”
Concert? This gets me thinking. What concert? And then like Wile E. Coyote, I got a ton of bricks dropped on my head… oh, crap!!! I had been making plans to go to Amarillo to see my good friend Cole - who now lives and works in France –while he’s in the U.S. on holiday. It was to be a road trip with Claire and John. John and I took this road trip during the summer, and were pretty excited to go again. The plan was to leave Wednesday, December 30th and return Friday, January 1st. But this concert was that Wednesday night to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra with my parents. When my Dad bought those tickets, he was so excited. Early in November, he emailed me the ticket confirmation the day he bought them. He talked about them for days afterwards. Then when the tickets were mailed to our house, he gave them to me for safe keeping. The issue at hand was that the going to the concert would cancel the Amarillo trip. By going to the concert Wednesday night, the trip to Amarillo would be pushed back to Thursday. There was no way for us to push back our return day because Claire and John had things to do that Saturday. An overnight trip to Amarillo, 12 hours being spent in transit, would just not be worth it. We would drive all day there, spend the night, and drive all day back. We at least needed a full day with Cole and his delightfully crazy family. So it all came down to me. I had to choose to either sacrifice the concert for the trip or the trip for the concert. I was also made to believe that if I didn’t take this trip, Claire and John would not go without me. So… no one would get to see Cole. But it would have made my Dad so very happy if I didn’t waste this concert ticket he was so excited about. After thinking about it long and hard, I’d be guilty no matter what I decided. I was going to disappoint someone. As awful as it sounds, I choose to disappoint my Dad, but realistically, I can make it up to him later. And by nature of being an awesome Dad, he’d understand that a 22 year old would rather road trip to Amarillo to spend a few days with friends than not and attend a 2.5 hour long concert with him and Mom. Love you, Dad!
The morning of the 30th was spent packing and talking to Sallie Mae (she’s a greedy ho!). When John arrived, it was no surprise that I wasn’t completely ready since it took a little over an hour discussing my student loans with a lady in India on a computer. Eventually John and I set off to get Claire. We took her car and then set off towards the wild west.
Once west of Fort Worth, Texas becomes the textbook stereotype everyone knows: flat plains with those oil pumps scattered about, cotton fields, windmills, crazy big wheels of hay, and cattle ranches. But let us not forget the most important part: the Texans! Oh glorious, Texas and its priceless inhabitants. After a few hours of driving, Claire asked if I could drive some. Well, of course I could. Thank you, Texas driver’s license. Well, we stopped at a timeless gas station somewhere off highway 287. This place didn’t have an actual store, but instead had a large double-wide mobile trailer/home acting as the convenience store. Then outside beside that wonderful establishment was a line of about 8 port-o-potties. It was most high-class. And yes, we took pictures. How could we not photograph a roadside gem such that?!
So then I drove. That was fun… until it was time to stop for gas. I guess I underestimated the width of the car when getting close to the gas pump judging by the awful destructive sounds we all heard. If you’re on the edge of your seat right now, let me comfort you. No, I didn’t crash into the pump. No, the car was not damaged. But yes, I got a wee bit close. The hubcap/tire banged and rubbed the curb. It was pretty embarrassing. Of course, it wouldn’t be right if someone else didn’t see what happened. So yes, there was a lovely Texan named, Wade, finishing pumping his gas on the other side. He got quite a kick out of it. He reassured us that no damage was done, but I’m without a doubt that later on that night, dear Wade would be pulling up to some little honky-tonk bar in the middle of West Texas with a slew of bad jokes about women drivers. But the cherry on top of the pie was when Wade – without even a hint of hesitation or couth – just opened the passenger door, popped his little West Texan head in the car, and while giggling said “Now y’all drive safe now,” before driving away in his pickup truck. So that was terrifying. Note to self: never leave the doors unlocked even for a second… immediately relock. I thought Claire was going to have a heart-attack in her seat because Wade so boldly invaded her personal space.
The rest of the journey was fairly normal. We made two other pit stops: one in Chillicothe to get some “Dang Good Candy” for the Casper family and the other to switch drivers again. When we arrived it was a big welcome by the Casper’s and dinner. Then Cole, Claire, John, and I all went to Roasters for coffee and meet up with Cole’s Amarillo friends – all great people I’d met in the summer. Then they all came back to Cole’s house for cakes, cookies, and drink. Merriment and laughter ensued… followed by the next day.
It was a good New Year’s Eve day filled with yummy bagels, Baylor paraphernalia and Chinese jackets found at antique shops along Route 66, and another Roasters run. New Year’s Eve night has never been terribly exciting but this was some of the most fun I’ve ever had. We all went to Chase’s house for their New Year’s Eve party. They had just gotten back from a hockey game and had invited the hockey team to the party. Oh my word! The guest list was a pretty good representation of West Texas demographics – quite a few honky-tonk hillbillies with trucker caps and their crazy wives. Thrown into the mix were a few pseudo-Canadian toothless hockey players and then… us. It was great. We toasted at midnight with wine and then continued the night with wine… oh and then champagne… and maybe some beer too… was there some beer pong, too??? YES. Let’s get real, though… would beer pong even be remotely shocking?! It was complete and total fun. Around 2 AM or so I was hailed over to stand back-to-back with Chase’s girlfriend, Nicole. I thought it was pretty weird. Clearly, she was the taller one. But was it was later said that they were measuring the length of our hair. Hmm… I won and my prize from the middle-aged hicks was to take my top off. O_o eeerk! NO! HA-HA. These people…
About an hour later: “Hey you with long hair! Why do you still have your top on?!” Oh dear, sir, could it be that I’m not a drunken whore?
Around 5 AM, we went back home. What a fun New Year!
The day, post-sleep and post-hangover (kidding…hmm) day consisted of Looney Tunes followed by my first trip to Waffle House. My stomach has never known such sudden indigestion and grease with fists, but I survived… and so we headed home. But not before hiding Cole’s Rubrix cubes in the bathroom. It was for his own good and my sanity. Great trip!Whelp, Happy New Year! 2010 has to prove itself now. 2009 had its ups and downs but it’s over. This year commenced with fun and great friends and will hopefully end just the same. What happens between that time… surprise me, God.
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