From Mountain Town to my grandmother's house, it was fun and peaceful.
March 10, 2009
I am at Grand Ma Normal Family's house. Today is Tuesday, and I drove up to spend the better part of my Spring Break with her, per tradition dating back to my Freshman Year. I was very proud of myself for making it here; the one other occasion I drove the route, during Christmas Break of this year, I got lost after failing to properly merge onto a Native State highway. This time I disregarded the multiple errors on my Google directions and made the sole mistake of heading the wrong way on another Native State highway, a misstep I noticed immediately and rememdied by turning around in a Native and Marble International Airport parking lot and going in the right direction.
I had the most amazing weekend last weekend.
On Friday I didn't do much, but Saturday the weather was glorious (about 75F) , so I spent almost the entire day outside. In the early afternoon Thomas and I went on an extended walk, first visiting the Mulch Pile ( a secret place, known to area children, that Thomas showed me) before next exploring by the train tracks. I still love to do this even though I'm twenty and nearing twenty-one.
Sometimes I feel like such a kid inside.
After we got home, Manager called to tell me my hours had been cut, the second Saturday in a row this has happened.
Oh, my gosh, I have to go to bed. I'm so tired that I can literally feel my skin drooping, but I'll write tomorrow.
March 11, 2009
Today was an active and fun day, and tomorrow promises to be all the more so. I wish to write more about my amazing Saturday and my weekend in general, but alas, on Wednesday I have yet to get around to it. I will condense. After learning my hours had been cut, I played soccer with Powell, Pie, and the neighbor children in our front yard. Then Powell, Thomas, Thomas's friend, and I went to McDonald's in Powell's car. When we got back to the house I watched Pie and the neighbor children while our parents went on motorcycle rides together. On Sunday I took Peruvian Girl exploring behind the railroad tracks and invited her to go with me to the movies.
On Monday afternoon I went over to Sacagawea's house and there, while the two of us were alone, I came out to my ex-girlfriend.
I'll be sure to write more about that event and that subject in general later.
She took it very well, though, and she understood.
On Tuesday morning I went to the mall with Peruvian Girl to pick up the new Kelly Clarkson CD (which is awesome), and then after dropping my friend off in Mountain Town I came here. Now I'm going to bed.
March 12, 2009
Today was another very nice day. I'm so glad I spent this holiday with Grand Ma every year; it's a lovely tradition. Today we slept in late, with me not rising until nearly noon.
After a very late breakfast of scrambled eggs and cheese (which is standard morning fare here), we left around three to go make copies of pictures at Wal-Mart.
My first afternoon here Grand Ma and I went through old photographs, and from these I selected about a dozen that I really wanted to have duplicates of. Among these were hilarious baby pictures of Powell and I, images of our early childhood, and several photos of my father dating to the early 1980's. In the first of these, labeled 1981, he is a slender seventeen-year-old with an enormous blonde-brown afro whose unruliness put to shame the much tamer locks that gave him so much heart burn when I started growing them in 2002.
The second photo, also taken in 1981, is my father's Senior portrait from high school. In it he is strangely pretty, with soft brown eyes; a well-defined, angular jaw; the faintest hint of a light-colored goatee; and feathery blonde hair. His nose is still the same, though, the beefy German nose of a man.
In the third picture, from 1983, he is nineteen years old and has assumed a guise that I like to call "the werewolf man." His hair by this point bore only faint highlights of blonde, and its bushiness combined with dark facial hair thicker than mine or Powell's made him look like a mountaineer.
We don't look alike at all.
I compared photos of us from when we were both seventeen and Seniors in high school, his from 1981 and mine from 2006, and there is no resemblance whatsoever. Neither Powell nor I inherited much from him in the way of physical features, though he and my nearest brother share much in the way of personality characteristics.
After Wal-Mart, Grand Ma and I went to Blockbuster, where we rented "The Secret" and "The Seeker," the first of which we watched immediately after getting home. Around six-thirty we left for the restaurant for my birthday dinner, where, contrary to my belief that this was impossible, I ordered so much sushi I couldn't finish it.
Then we came home and watched "The Seeker," a truly delightful fantasy movie.
I have to leave tomorrow, back to Southern State where a weekend of work awaits me. That is a good thing.
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