The Land of the Living

Precursory note: I think that I am going to discontinue my trend of capitalizing every word in my post titles. At first, I thought it promoted a sense of uniqueness, impact, and all that shit, but it honestly just feels stupid to continue to do so. Seeing as I am an absolute grammar nazi (well, I try to be) in all other aspects of my life on- and off-line, I believe that it is time for me to put that particular self-imposed trend to rest. May you rest in peace, adolescent capitalization.

Precursory note II: I guarantee that this post is going to be a long one, so maybe I'll throw in some pictures or something.


Precursory note III: I think I like the idea of occasionally starting posts off with precursory notes. Not all posts, but the ones that necessitate a wee statement or aside before the actual body of the post begins... Instead of letting these little bits of information hang in the balance, I think I am going to give them a label and a sense of purpose. Maybe I just like the word "precursory," I couldn't tell you. 

ANYFUCKINGWAY.

I am home. Sweet baby Jesus, I am home.

I never knew how beautiful Colorado was until I was taken away from it against my will. This trip has also brought me a new-found appreciation for my tiny house, because although it is tiny and messy, it feels far cleaner and more breathable than the houses of my east coast relatives. Also, quieter. I have so much appreciation for all of these little things that I used to hate about where I live.


Moving right along, I shall now regale you all with a short (but not really) list of the adventures that I had in humid-as-fuck Rochester, New York. But first, I must bitch momentarily:

My parents arrange for my sister and I to go to New York, but do they send us to see our relatives in Manhattan? No. They send us to see the relatives in the boring upper state. Their intentions and generosity was much appreciated, but their execution, frankly, was not. I am aware that I sound indisputably spoiled and insensitive, but it had to be said, so feel free to suck a big one if you find my reaction to be offensively selfish.

Moving right along to my list of adventures. Despite not wanting to go in the first place and not enjoying myself about 30% of the time (which was better than I had projected), I did my best to capitalize upon the situation and make it as positive as possible. Here are the fun things that happened during the time that I didn't desperately want to hijack an airplane a fly home:

-Gallavanted around Canada. More specifically, the Canadian side of Niagara Falls. I went of the Maid of the Mist boat thing under the falls, which required all of us to wear ridiculous blue parkas. Yes, there are numerous embarrassing photos on Facebook.

-Two-day extravaganza at Darien Lakes, which is a theme park with a campground attached. The camping was crowded and fake-feeling, and I am not a fan of roller coasters due to my pilot training, but the water park was fun and the random shenanigans were exciting.

-Sean Connery movie marathon with gratuitous Oreo consumption. Delicious, and the Oreos were good too.

-Got drunk with deaf people. (Note: half of my upstate family is deaf, so I grew up knowing sign language) We all went go-karting, arcade gaming, and then got a 30 rack and played drinking games in my cousin's apartment. After we were all considerably tipsy, we went to a diner and got garbage plates. (Garbage plates are a drunk person's gift from God; take home fries, cheeseburgers, macaroni salad, and basically any other high-calorie diner food you can think of, throw it all on a plate, and cover it in hot sauce. Thank Drunk Jesus for garbage plates)

-Promenaded along the Erie Canal, scared pigeons, laughed at funny boat names, and got ice cream from some adorable little shop.

-My uncle, who is a pathologist, took me into the hospital with him for a teaching session that he had with some medical students. We all went into the morgue, and proceeded to poke, prod, discuss, and diagnose tubs of organs. Real, human organs. I held an actual kidney, guys, it was awesome. 

-Big family dinner at this fantastic Chinese restaurant. And for those of you laughing at the stereotypical coincidence that my big, loud, Jewish family was eating at a Chinese place, laugh away, because that was kind of the point. But hey, no one does Chinese food like New Yorkers.

And now for the not so fun adventures:

-I got second degree burns on our final day at Darien Lakes. I'm talking, giant, seeping blisters, raw and exposed dermis, and all manner of fun peeling. Once, I tried putting aloe on it, and, well, I have a very high tolerance for pain, but Holy God in Heaven, that is a level of pain I never wish to experience ever again. My shoulders and upper back still have not recovered.

-I had to spend a night with my grandmother, who happens to be my only living grandparent, at her old person home. She has her own apartment, but all meals are taken at this massive dining room that masquerades as a restaurant. The food was edible, but unfortunately old-person-digestion-friendly, if you catch my drift. My grandmother is 92, and has lost her will to live. She is infuriatingly slow, sometimes forgets to swallow her food, and is constantly depressed. I love her, but I will not mind if that is the last time that I ever have to see her. I really, really hate old, decrepit people (I mean like, no longer young-at-heart, completely infirm people) and being not only surrounded by them, but in their constant company was frustrating, disgusting, and thoroughly un-enjoyable.

-I was obligated to eat one dinner with a particular aunt whom I cannot stand at her creepy house. She chews ridiculously loudly and is a very over-baring person. Not fun to have to spend a meal with.

And that pretty much sums up the trip.

Admittedly, I did get a lot closer to my cousins, and I did glean the aforementioned appreciation for many things at home. I still didn't want to go in the first place.

Anyway, now that I am back in the Land of the Living, my life can finally return to normal. I have no other trips or excursions planned for the rest of the summer, so here's hoping that my last month of it (Shit, where did my life go?!) is low-key, rave-, and sex-filled. I can adventure the fuck out of the world next summer, but right now, all I want is my old routine back. 

In order to end this post on an optimistic note, I'll leave you all with a cute-mushy-romantic moment that I had today, because the second I got home from the airport, I grabbed my keys and drove immediately to go see Technicolor Boy.

Basically, I showed up at his house wearing practically no make up in a t-shirt and pajama shorts. He and I spent the afternoon watching Venture Bros on his couch. I was complaining about how gross I looked and felt because of the burns covering my upper torso and was squirming around because he kept trying to pull at my collar and sleeves so that he could see my shoulders. I was serious about looking gross, but he said "You're beautiful. You're very, very pretty... Even with you skin falling off."

He's never called me beautiful before... not really anyone has.
He thinks I'm beautiful.

HUH.




Julia