What Snoo With You?

So it's been a week and some change since I last posted, and I'm sure that y'all have enjoyed the reprieve nicely. But, all good things must come to an end and my friend, the end is here. I have a lot to say, so I'll start at the beginning, on last Friday.

I was awoken out of a peaceful six-hour slumber by my Father asking me if I was planning on going to my Mom's work to help out with some office decorating. I replied in the affirmative and readied myself in record time. I grabbed my bag of coloring utensils, some posterboard, and a book (Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban - my favorite out of the series), and off we went. You see, many nights before this, my mom brought up the subject of a spare Christmas tree in the lobby of Carteret Community College (her place of employment). Every department had picked a month to take charge of the tree and to decorate it with a theme from their office. July was my mom's office's month - the business office. When this subject was broached while we were dining at a fabulous little Mexican restaurant called El Cerro, I started listing possible themes and then coming up with unique ideas for decorations. That was my first mistake. A piece of advice my dad often gives that dates back to his days in boot camp is this: never be first, never be last, and never volunteer. The idea is that the person who is first, last, or volunteers is the easiest to take the piss out of. Well, I guess I must have volunteered, because a month and a week later, my mom (out of the blue, mind you) asks me what supplies I need to make the decorations for her offices tree, and would I mind going into work with her tomorrow to put the tree together? Did I really have a choice? So, I went to her office, sat behind a desk for hours, letting my creative side take full rein, and I produced pretty things with little tidbits of information about her office on them. I made several poinsettas, a lighthouse that read "136 purchase orders," and many other things, thorougly covered in glitter glue. After that, I used a roll of red ribbon (say that one five times fast!) to make several bows, and then lettered "red tape" down the tails of each. I then used a roll of that paper that goes in calculators and receipt machines to make a number nine pinch twist bow (a really big, loopy bow) for the crown of the tree. My mom put silver tissue paper through the shredder for tinsel, and then took the remaining paper and made snowflakes. I made a sign that read "The business office presents ... Working in a Paper Wonderland." How cute. When it was all said and put together, it was after eight pm, and my mom was still required to be there to do something about this big ($35,000 big) discrepancy in the end of the fiscal year budget, once her boss (the complete wanker, I don't like her at all) made some sort of decision with the people in Raleigh and someone else. We didn't get home until after ten, but that tree sure looked nice!

Saturday we all woke up early (before eight) and threw some things together, piled into the van, and made our merry way on down to Charleston, SC. When we arrived, around 3:30, we were warmly greeted by Darren and Kim, and then sat down to a nice family conversation. We talked and talked and I think we talked (I shouldn't have waited so long to blog because I can't quite remember what happened), and then we ate some rotisserie chicken with some good sides. And then we played Scattergories for twelve rounds. I believe either Kim or mom won (the guys didn't stand a chance) and then it was off to bed. Oh, Kim and Darren have new sofas that recline, a beautiful coffee table, and a lovely china hutch (if that is what it is called) and table set- I especially loved the dining room furniture - they're so beachy and gorgeous!

Sunday we woke up to grits, eggs, bacon, and toast, and then we decided to take a drive down to a country cider store, Parris Island, and then to Yemassee. At the country store, it was very quaint and very crowded. They had tons of free samples out and I tried all of the ciders and some of the preserves. I wanted to buy a thing of peach cider, but my dad stepped in and bought it for me (how sweet). We made out with a thing of peach and a thing of cherry cider, and one thing of pure cane syrup. Then it was off to Parris Island, home of the Marine Corps Boot Camp (I don't know what else to call it). Both of my parents went through Boot Camp here, my Dad in 1963 and my Mom in 1980. We drove around for a bit on the base. My Dad told us how when he got on the bus to go to boot camp, he was hungover but he didn't realize that the hangover was over until six weeks later, when he realized that the hell he was in had nothing to do with alcohol. We watched new recruits run in formation all around the base, led by these two, tiny DS's (they couldn't have been over five feet, surrounded by recruits that were well over six feet). We toured the museum, which was halfway closed off because the air conditioning was broken. I couldn't figure how a lack of air conditioning would keep Marines from functioning, but it did. The guide was somewhat elderly and would not stop talking for the life of ya. We stood there waiting for him to get on with what he was saying, and he just kept changing the topic over and over again, bless his heart. We then went to the PX and the Commissary, bought some food and libations, and headed over to Yemassee. Now, you might ask, what the hell is so special about Yemassee? Well, have you ever seen Forrest Gump? I've never seen him, but I have seen the movie, and movie buff that I am, I looked up some trivia on the movie a long while back. Did you know that the Skeleton Key was filmed in the same house that Forrest Gump was filmed in?And did you know that the house that Forrest Gump was filmed in is in Yemassee, SC? Well it is! So, we drove to Yemassee to see Forrest Gump's house. Along the way, my Dad pointed out a lot of things he remembered from being stationed near there when he got back from Vietnam, in 1967. One of them was the ruins of this here church. Aren't they magnificent? He told us about these ruins he remembered and then bam! There it was on the side of the road. We pulled over, squeezed out of the van (there was barely a foot of clearance between the van and the road). I took some pictures while we all just walked around. It really was something. Apparently, it was built in the colonial times, burned to the ground, rebuilt in the early 1800's, and then burnt to the ground again. I guess it just wasn't meant to be. Then we drove on the the main town of Yemassee, which consisted of two tiny streets, and then the residential sections. I thought the house was on Yemassee road/street/lane/whatever, but I was wrong. We stopped at a gas station for directions, and the third person that Darren asked knew exactly where the house was. We followed his directions (turn left here, hang a right there, say a hail mary here, and do three doughnuts). We were driving on this long, forested road for a long time when we decided that maybe we had gone wrong. We crossed the Combahee river, which is pronounced like my last name, and came to Floyd's something or other. Darren, the good sport that he is, got out and asked for directions. The woman at the store said she had not see the Motion Picture Forrest Gump (in a very, very heavy accent). So we turned around and drove around some more, while Darren used his phone to search out an address. We ended up going in some big circles, driving down someone's private and very long driveway just to find out that it wasn't the right one, and turning around to high tail it out. Finally, we stopped at the same conveniece store that we stopped at in the first place, my Dad got out and asked for directions, and we ended up with a personal escort to the road that the house was on: Combahee Rd. Darren was able to find an address: Bluff plantation, 3547 Combahee Rd, etc, etc. We made it to Combahee road, which we would have found had we just driven a lot further down the first road we turned back on, and we drove and drove and drove. It is a long, long, long road. But things were starting to look up. We finally saw a sign that said "Bluff Plantation." We stopped and looked. The driveway was blocked and marked as private, and it was so long that you couldn't see the end of it, nor could you see the house, but it was the driveway! It was Forrest Gump's driveway, I tell you. We stood right where both little Forrests get on the bus for the first time! After upwards of two hours of searching, we found it! There was the oak tree that Jenny and Forrest were like peas and carrots in, and there was the tree that Jenny was burried under! I was in shock, so I didn't get but these two pictures (stupid Jessica, stupid!!). We returned to Charleston for dinner and conversation. One conversation was about a dream that Kim had had the night prior. Apparently Mom, Dad, me, Becca, Rob, and Kim were all downstairs talking and having a good time. I must take a moment to say to Kim that I will probably butcher her dream, so please correct me when you can. Darren was upstairs. Everything was fine until some woman came to the house, asked to see Darren, and climbed upstairs with never a by-you-leave. Kim went upstairs to find Darren kissing this woman (she described how quite well). When we five found out about this, we were so very quick join Kim's side and scorn Darren. Apparently Becca was pissed and upset and couldn't believe it. Dad was spitting mad. And I immediately charged upstairs to physically take care of Darren. I don't know what was funnier - the fact that we all turned against Darren, that I was the one to threaten to beat the living daylights out of him, or that Kim kept mock glaring at Darren as if he had really committed that heinous act. Whatever it was, it was hilarious. So, after a dinner of excellent leftovers, and some more conversation centered on the game "worst scenario," we went to bed.

I was awoken before eight, once more, and told to get ready, which I did. We then said our goodbyes (although I hope not for long), and made our way back to North Carolina on Hwy 17. The trip was uneventful in and of itself. Once home, Dad and I went to the wildlife shelter and picked up a Canada Goose to adopt. She is practically full grown, with all of her feathers and only little bit of down left. Her foot was broken, so the shelter set it to rights and then passed her on to us. Dad wanted to give her a girl's name, and so he came up with Penelope. Penelope has a slight, barely noticeable limp, and makes Buddy look positively graceful by comparison. Penelope does not leave Buddy's side, but rather follows her around all day, into the water, out of the water, over to the fig trees, back to the house, and so on. I am hoping that she won't be so afraid of humans and dogs after a bit, but as of now, she won't come near us. I haven't taken a picture of her yet, but I will soon.

We watched a Bill Cosby comedy routine the other night and were thoroughly entertained. It is amazing how clean comedy can be and still be effective. He said that while his wife was giving birth to their first child, she had the nerve to tell everybody in the room that his parents were not married! What a creative way to say that she called him a Bastard! And then he said that when he was growing up, he thought his name was Jesus Christ, and his brother's name was Dammit, because that is what his father always called them. "Jesus Christ, put that down! Dammit, come here!" And then one day, when Bill was climbing a tree, his father came outside and yelled, "Dammit, get down from there!" Bill looked around in confusion and said that his brother was in the house.

On a related note, we have taken to watching Whose Line is it Anyway every night at 8 on the BBC America Channel. I have to admit, I have developed somewhat of a ...thing for Ryan Stiles. I mean, he's so cute! I can't help it! He's funny, he's got a fast sense of humor, with a dirty mind, and he's very easy on the eyes. He's perfect! Not to mention that he is five, only five days younger that Sean Bean! I really cannot stop thinking about Ryan Stiles! Who cares if I am barely twenty, I just have a thing for older men. I can't help it! I've developed a block in regards to liking men closer to my age. I watched Troy, and who was I distracted by? Orlando Bloom? Puh-lease. Eric Bana? Keep dreaming. Brad Pitt? No way. I was distracted by Sean Bean, the man with the smallest part of those four actors, but the handsomest face and the smoothest, most sinfully wonderful voice. I saw Van Helsing and who caught my eye? Hugh Jackman, the main character? Nope - Richard Roxburgh, as Dracula - a very old guy (400 years!). I just have some sort of problem with today's young actors. Shane West, Topher Grace, Tobey Mcguire, Sean Michael Murry, Orlando Bloom, and others just don't tickle my pickle. Sean Bean, Johnny Depp, Ryan Stiles, Richard Roxburgh, Oded Fehr, and others have almost twenty years on those young whippersnappers, and yet they are all I can think about. But hey, I'll think about them any time, day or night.