Oh my god! I still haven’t told you about my trip. I am so bad about this sort of thing. I’m sorry y’all. I think I’m failing as a blogger.
But no matter! Better late than never, right?
I got in late late late on Friday night and we immediately went to his parent’s house, who live a few towns over from him. Unfortunately, I came in the very same weekend that his parents and grandmother were going to see his sister, who lives in Charlotte, NC. So basically we switched places for the weekend. This was bad because I adore his family and I hated that I wouldn’t get to spend any time with them, but it was very very good because it meant that Pete had to house-sit, so we got to stay in his parents’ big, pretty home and play house all weekend. Hooray! We went ahead and stayed there on Friday night because we were throwing a cook-out Saturday and that way we wouldn’t have to drag ourselves out of bed at the ass-crack of dawn to get over there and be ready.
Much to my glee (and shock!) when we finally got there at about 1:30 am his mother and 91-year old grandmother were still awake because they wanted to see me. We stood in the kitchen while Pete cut up cucumbers (!!) and chatted for a bit before I stumbled off to bed (leaving them all still awake. These people are magic.). Before I went to bed, Pete’s mom gave me a scarf she had knitted for me and an organic chocolate bar.
Have I told you how much I love his family?
The next morning we got up and started getting ready for the cook-out. I was up there this particular weekend not only because it was memorial day and he had Monday off, but also because his birthday was Wednesday. So in honor of that (and my fabulous presence) a bunch of his reenacting friends came over and we grilled. And then we drank. And grilled some more. And played bocce ball. And then we drank again. And grilled more.
I don’t think I have ever had so much meat, beer, and ridiculous ball jokes in one day in my life. It has been a long time since I have been around so many 21 year old boys. They certainly have no qualms acting like idiots. It’s awesome.
Pictures from the Q:
Doesn’t he look cute in his little flowery apron?
He is really really excited about the corn (the corn, which, in my opinion, was terribly undercooked. I promptly returned mine to the grill to let it brown some more and instantly forgot about it completely. You know, the beer does that. Someone pulled it off about 30 minutes later, burned to a cinder. I did still eat some of it though.)
Can you hear the jokes making themselves?
I learned one very valuable thing throughout the day and that is that I SUCK at bocce ball. I only won about 6 throws out of a million. My dreams of going to Italy and beating a bunch of grumpy old men to a pulp are crushed.
After we had consumed several animals and two garbage bags full of beer, Pete decided that it would be a really good idea to go play some mini-golf and laser tag. We all drunkenly (or maybe that was just me?) agreed that mini-golf was the best idea IN THE WORLD. OH MY GOD Y’ALL MINI GOLF!!
(Oh, and also, you know how I don’t really think I have much of a Southern accent? Apparently I am totally wrong, because every time I opened my mouth and said “y’all”- which I say all the damn time- all the boys started snickering at me. And then I started drinking, and I just couldn’t stop the torrent of southernism. However, I should point out that some of them have accents that are so strong, they sound like a parody. So they can go screw themselves. They are all wicked retahdahd.)
We all pile into various and sundry automobiles and I make Pete drive us by a gas station so I can buy some batteries for my camera, which had died a few hours earlier AND I CANNOT ALLOW MY BLOG TO EXIST WITHOUT THE GLORY OF MINI-GOLF PICTURES. And then I get back in the truck to put the batteries in my camera, which doesn’t work because my camera is still sitting on his kitchen counter. DAMNATION! I blame the beer. Also, I may have had some sort of burnt-corn poisoning, which probably ruins your memory.
So there was mini-golf, and I didn’t lose, but I didn’t win (that honor went to Pete, who actually plays golf and therefore takes it mildly seriously. And the rest of us were just drunken idiots. Especially me.) and then we played laser tag, which I DID lose, completely and fully, and then there was ice cream.
The next day we got to skip church (it is completely terrible of me that I was so happy we got to skip church? I can’t help it. I just didn’t feel like going and standing there for two hours and listening to a bunch of Russian and having old ladies fawn all over me and ask me “when are you two getting mahhhried?” And also, there is a girl who goes to Pete’s church who stares at me with death ray eyes every time I come and it gives me the heebies. I mean, yeah, I get it. He’s hot and young and all into it and stuff, which isn’t terribly common in the orthodox church, I’ve found. I’m sure she had all these illusions that they would get married and have shining little orthodox babies, and then I came along and broke her heart into 9 million pieces because he lurrrves me, but SUCK IT, BITCH! And stop with the hateful eyes. That’s not so much fun on a Sunday morning with a hangover.)
So we were heathens! And we slept in! And it was great! (I’m corrupting him!)
We did a whole lot of nothing during the day and just sort of wasted time. And truthfully, that was my favorite part. One of the absolute worst things about being in a long distance relationship is that you don’t ever have time to waste. Because when I’m there or he is here all I can think is “ok, only two more days” or “I’m leaving tomorrow I’m leaving tomorrow” and it is hard for me to just chill the hell out and enjoy it. But I was able to do that this time. I think that’s a good sign.
I left Monday, but my flight wasn’t until late afternoon so we got up and I got packed and we went out for lunch. When Pete asked me what I wanted to do I said “I want to go somewhere pretty!” so he took me here:
It was a lovely big park overlooking the harbor of one of the little towns that dots the coast. The weather was incredibly beautiful and we had a lovely walk (and My God, the green! I’m still not over it). I played in the water and looked at the odd sea-life up there (Purple-shelled mussels! and snails! on the coast? And seaweed that looked like it had pickles growing on it. weird) and got a little bit sunburned.
I think this was me eyeing some of that weird pickle weed. The sunburn came later.
After that, we went down to the harbor for a while and watched the boats going in and out and just enjoyed our last hour. He also bought me some drink/slush thing called a lime Rickey which is some sort of tradition up there. So with that, and the chowder, and the people with funny accents, I guess I had the complete New England experience. (and also I was really excited by the windmill I could see above the trees)
And then he took me to the airport and I didn’t even cry (which is CRAZY for me) so I was pretty proud of myself. I hate to say it, but the goodbyes are getting easier. I think I’m getting used to them, which sorta freaks me out. Oh well, hopefully those will be ending soon (stay tuned, she says cryptically)