Driving in Vermont - Day Time Edition

Apparently when it's dark out, all you see are deer and strange fox/beaver/possum type animals. In the day time, you get to see cows and sheep. But when you're in a car that seats 5 with 6 grown women, you start to make up what it is that you see. Apparently, you can be 30 years old, but still not be grown up enough to behave yourself in a moving vehicle, let alone concede that you need to take two cars because there aren't enough seat belts. (Yes it was my idea to take one car, but no one fought me on it.)

Saturday afternoon we decided to hit up some outlet shopping in Manchester, VT. It was a rainy afternoon and what's more fun that shopping with your girlfriends (or watching your girlfriends spend all their money on clothes and shoes. Or in my case, watching my friends watch me spend my money on clothes and shoes). We piled into my car, M in the front seat next to me and the other four ladies in the back seat. This is what I could see: Although this is also a classic image of L & B: We're so grown-up. Of course, I'm sure you can understand why I looked like this most of the time: It was about a half hour drive, and of course all we're seeing are cows and sheep. Somehow, and I actually was paying attention to the road, so I'm not totally sure how, there was conversation about being nice to sheep and cows, animals are people too, and someone combined words and suddenly, we'd discovered a new breed of hybrid mammal. Apparently this is a picture of sheeple: Yes, I slowed down to almost a complete stop so this picture could be captured. I'm so nice (and glad we were on a country road with no one around us). The little white dots are sheep/sheeple. But it did bring up the question what with the rain and all. If you leave your sheep out in the rain, will they shrink? I mean, being wool and all. Makes ya think.

We arrived in Manchester and although driving to a shopping trip typically feels like a journey in toward all good things, this particular drive felt like a journey to my personal Mecca. And as turned the corner, I spotted the motherload: Ann Taylor Factory Outlet. (I squealed.) Then we parked in a lot adjacent to a shoe store. Yummy!

Here are the details you need to know about my friends. I spent this shopping trip with 2 doctors, 2 post-docs and a vet. That means I'm the only one who doesn't wear scrubs or jeans nearly everyday and I'm the only one that does wear heels nearly everyday. (I bought two pairs of super cute shoes, 2 dresses, a skirt and a top. I was actually very well behaved.)

We continued shopping, had lunch and the realized that we still had a dozen very yummy cupcakes waiting for us at the house to celebrate our birthday (duh, that was the point right? Well, one of the points.) Driving back there actually was an actual, non-animal landmark that I veered off the road to stop at when someone in the back seat noticed it. A granite quarry, apparently the first of its kind (either in the U.S./colonies or Vermont, I didn't pay attention). But it was pretty, so we stopped. We went home, played some games, ate some dinner and devoured some cupcakes. And the games are where we really showed our maturity (or just let our hair down because some of us really needed a weekend away). Look, I'm just saying that when you play a game like Cranium that has clay as a game piece, and you get a bunch of women celebrating a "bachelorette" party, you're gonna have some shenanigans.

I ain't sayin', I'm just sayin'.

Driving in Vermont - Night Time Edition

Disclaimer: Two of my friends have the same name. So for the sake of clarity, one will be L and the other will be affectionately referred to by her nickname, Big D.

You know what's in Vermont? Not a lot. A bunch of animals. But animals don't make for good landmarks when you're driving.

For a very funny description of Vermont (juxtaposed with New Hampshire), may I suggest visiting this website which is clearly accurate and not at all tongue in cheek.

K, M and I finally made it out of Boston alive and without crashing (hooray!). We eventually got through New Hampshire, only to find ourselves on the dark, single lane highways of Vermont.

Now, I'd been to Big D's house on the lake before and thought I knew where I was going. The GPS said we'd get in about 11:15 pm, but I'd budgeted 30 extra minutes of "we're at the lake but we still need to find the house" time, since the directions were only taking us to the road, not the address I'd plugged in.

Eventually we get to the lake area and of course, the directions stop. Karen (my GPS has a first name, it's K-A-R-E-N) decided we were where we needed to be and stopped speaking to us. So M and I looked at the map and eventually M noticed we were driving south, meaning we were north of the lake. I had come from the south before, so I was never going to find the landmark I was looking for, especially in the dark. Yea for friends who know how to read a map!

Soon we get to my landmark from the other direction and get on the right road. After stopping and looking at the house number of nearly every. single. house. to see if we'd found it. Then the road stopped/took a right turn and I remember that I had printed out directions from Big D that would help us since we were this close (they would not have been useful for highway driving since we started at a different place). I handed them to M and within minutes I found the house. Although M swears it wasn't by her doing since I was pulling into the driveway at the same time she was finally able to figure out what she was reading. (We made it within my allotted buffer, too.)

Hugs all around as both Big D and L were both already at the house. We were only waiting on B. We knew that she was on the road since at one point she'd called K and said her GPS (Mr. T is it's name) told her that he pitied the fool that didn't arrive by a little after midnight. We all love B very much, but also know that getting lost is second nature for her. Plus, she'd been working at the hospital all day and would no doubt be tired. So I figured she'd get in about 1 am.

Sure enough, a little while later, the phone rings and B is lost. And somehow she's also north of the lake, although we're still trying to figure that out. For whatever reason, I was in charge of answering the phone and bringing the poor soul in.

B: So I turned onto a dirt road, drove for a while and almost ended up in a ditch. I figured that wasn't where I wanted to be so I turned around and am back on the main road.

Me: Good job, because you do, in fact not want to be in a ditch. Can you tell on your GPS map where exactly you are?

B: Um, not sure. Let me pull over. Hey deer, don't hit my car. Now this part is a little muffled for me, since cell reception is poor, so I'd misheard her.

Me: Did you just hit a deer?

B: No, I pulled over to the side of the road and a dear popped out of the woods and looked at me funny.

Giggling, I manage to figure out where B is, give her some semblance of direction and of course, once she begins driving, reception cuts out and I lose her. Eventually she calls back, and as Big D and I try to figure out where she is, B ends up turning around and driving the same 1/2 mile stretch about 3 times. This causes some cursing on her end, especially at the deer, which she has apparently passed repeatedly and is now her only consistent landmark. After some confusion as to how she can be at an intersection of two roads that don't meet, we are eventually able to get her onto the correct side of the lake, and on her merry way. Soon, she arrives at the house. L and I go out to meet her.

Me: Where's the deer?

B: In the backseat.

Me: WHAT?!?! The deer. Where's the deer?

B: Oh, I thought you said beer. Because that's what's on my mind. I need a drink.

To B's credit, she did arrive prior to 1 am, so even Mr. T would be proud that she made it within the buffer. It'd been a long drive for us, and since we'd worked all day and it was late, we went to bed. B and I were sharing a bed in one of the rooms (I love that girls can do this without freaking out) and caught up a bit on our husbands, jobs, general lives before calling it a night.

Before going to sleep, B said, "Just to warn you, I talk in my sleep. But I'll try not to cuddle you." I laughed and said I'm sure it would be fine. So of course, at 5:15 am, I just started laughing when I was sleeping on my side and suddenly B's arm comes around me for a little snuggly squeeze. All I could do was laugh. Which of course caused Hannah, Big D's 3 year old lab, to come in and say good morning because people where awake. Which of course caused B to wake up and say, "Oh God! Sorry! Oh, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I...Sorry!" Which just caused me to laugh more. Then Big D came into gather Hannah--her tail was wagging so frantically and thumping against the wall you could hear it throughout the house.

A couple of restful hours later, we woke up and of course, I had to share with the rest of our friends. If you're going to share a bed with B, you're going to be the little spoon.

Intruder Alert

The other night D and I came home from dinner and were talking in the living room. I got up to go to the kitchen, still carrying on our conversation and then stopped in the doorway between the two rooms.

And then I heard a little noise coming from the ceiling.

Me: Did you hear that?

D: No.

Me: Come in here. It's coming from over by the door (which would be the exact opposite side of the house from where we've heard these noises before).

Scratchy, scamper noises continued.

D: Son of a...sigh. (walks to the basement door)

Me: What are you doing?

D: Going to get the ladder to set the trap again.

How to Get in a Car Accident

Friday evening, I headed out of work to Logan Airport in Boston to pick up my close friends from college, K and M. Coming from two different cities, they planned their flight perfectly to land in Boston within 15 minutes of each other. I don't really drive around Boston much (see other posts describing my hatred of the self-identified Massholes), so I really have to pay attention and utilize the GPS at all costs. My director had told me about the Cell Phone Lot at Logan Airport and I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to use it.

Logan's Cell Phone Lot is such a great idea. It might be the one smart thing anyone from the former MassPort (now MassDOT--new name, same idiots) ever thought of. About a quarter mile from the terminal, they have an open (read: free) lot where you can sit and wait for your friends and loved ones to call and tell you they are at the terminal, waiting for you to pick them up. No circling the airport necessary and no getting arrested for idling outside JetBlue (no this never happened to me; but I could see it being a possibility).

So I'm waiting in the lot, it's a nice evening, the windows are down a bit and I'm reading my book. Suddenly, a woman is standing outside my driver door, talking to me.

Cell Phone Lot Lady: I'm sorry, but my phone just died. Does your phone have unlimited local calls? Can I use your phone to call my house and see if my daughter called there?

I was a little surprised at the sudden conversation, but sympathetic to the need, so I handed her my phone, helped her dial and listened awkwardly to her try to get her husband to shut up and just answer the question of her daughter making contact. She finally told him she'd just keep going back to the terminal to scour for her, mentioning Terminal C (hey, that's where my friends will be).

She thanked me profusely and handed me back the phone. When she did, I noticed that I'd received a text message from K, telling me she and M would be at Terminal C. I replied, started the car, and left the lot.

Again, allow me to reiterate that I do not drive in Boston.

I noticed that Cell Phone Lot Lady was pulling out as well, so when I got to the road and couldn't figure out which lane to be in, I decided to use my resources. She said she was going to C and I was going to follow her (I'm smart and resourceful, not a stalker). Sure enough, she pulls into Terminal C, and lo and behold, there are my friends. Unfortunately, there is not a spot for me to pull in and park. Cell Phone Lot Lady pulled in behind another car and left a significant gap (right where my friends were standing) but not enough for me to pull in and park. So I double parked and quickly jumped out (my keys in hand--I would not lock them in again). We hugged quickly and said hello, then I popped the trunk and loaded their suitcases.

As we're getting in the car, Cell Phone Lot Lady calls over: Thanks again. I found her!

Me: Oh, good. I'll hurry up and get out of your way now! (seeing as how she really couldn't move her vehicle)

So I start the car, excitedly great my friends, remember that I'm still driving in Boston and need to tell the GPS where I want to go and still drive away from the terminal. Apparently I'm multi-talented because this is not the situation by which I almost wrecked my car. That happened during the following exchange.

K (sitting in the back seat, directly behind me): So C, do I look fatter? (K is teeny-tiny and often complains of her "fatness" so on the surface this question is not bizarre.)

Me (immediately thinking "She's pregnant. No, that's not it. We're always complaining about how we're 30 and everyone is asking us when we're going to get pregnant. And looking in the rearview mirror--not the road--at her): Should you look fatter, K?

K: Maybe.

Me(with more insistence): Should you look fatter, K?

K: Maybe a little in my tummy.

Me (I'm pretty sure the click in my mind was audible when I made the connection): SQUEE!!!!!! Oh my God! Yea! You're gonna have a baby!!! (Oh, and the looking at the road thing it still intermittent.)

M (from the front passenger seat): Yeah. Me too.

Me (and here is where I'm consciously trying to stay on the bridge, but pretty sure I changed lanes, swerved and generally pissed off other drivers): SQUEE!!! That's so exciting.

So conversation regarding the whens and whats (not the hows; I know the hows) ensued. So they are due 4 days apart and tribute the babies to the snow storms in February (K lives in North Carolina, M in Maryland). It's all very exciting and it gave us yet another reason to celebrate over the weekend (although I did have more alcohol in the trunk than we needed as a result of being down two drinking buddies). And it was very cool to wish them a Happy Mother's Day on Sunday.

Both M and K are entering in their second trimester. K's bump is a little more pronounced than M's, but of course for posterity, we needed to commemorate the bumpage.


We'll get another look next month when we get together for L's wedding. I'm hoping for more cute baby bellies! (By the way, the moral of the story is: when your friends are going to tell you they are pregnant, stay double parked and piss off the other drivers waiting to pull out of the airport before getting back in your car.)

Car Key Management FAIL

This weekend I went on a wonderful Girls' Weekend away to Vermont with my closest friends from college. We celebrated our collective 30th birthdays and we had some little bachelorette festivities for my friend L who will be getting married next month. It was great.

In preparation for the weekend, I'd planned to go into work late since I'd be staying late to pick up two friends from the airport before driving up to Vermont. This gave me a chance to work out, shower, have breakfast with D and get everything packed up in the morning. Additionally, I worked it out so that I could stop by the liquor store and pick up a couple of bottles of champagne before I headed to work/as soon as it opened. Because nothing says lush like walking into a liquor store at 9:00 am.

I said good bye to D, headed out the driveway and pulled into the parking lot of Kappy's before getting on the highway to Boston. My purse for the weekend was my huge bag that serves as purse/suitcase for anything I need to travel that isn't clothes, so I thought, "I'm just running into to grab two bottles of champagne, I'll just take my wallet and keys." I did just that, came back out to the car and popped the trunk. I set down my keys and wallet so I could peel the price tags off the bottles (because nothing says tacky like showing up to a party with the price tag on the bottles you brought). Then I had to wedge the bottles in the trunk so they wouldn't roll all over the place. Satisfied, I picked up my wallet and shut the trunk.

Dammit.

My keys were now locked safely in the trunk and my phone was locked safely in the car.

Dammit.

Maybe nothing says lush like having to walk back into a liquor store at 9:00 am and ask to use their phone because you locked your keys in your trunk? The idea of walking the 1/2 mile back to the house flitted across my mind to save from the embarrassment, but I didn't want to get sweaty and knew it would be faster to have D bring me the other set of keys.

So I went back in and the woman at the register was very kind. She smiled, but didn't laugh (while I was there). I called D and prayed his phone was on and he would answer. He did.

Me: Hi. I stopped at Kappy's and proceeded to lock my keys it the trunk.

D: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

Me: So are you coming?

D (still giggling): Yeah, I'll be right there.

Ain't he a peach?

He did come and I rescued my keys. To D's credit, he didn't razz me too much more. But I was paranoid about locking my keys in my car for the rest of the weekend.


PS: I've got lots more fun stories from the weekend with the girls coming!

M-O-U-S-E

If you were wondering, that's how you spell nuisance. It's unbelievable. I'm convinced that there is a controlled habitat exercising Darwin's Theory of Evolution playing out in our attic. The mice are getting smarter. It's the only excuse.

D caught a fourth mouse--peacefully. However, again, both traps were void of bait (peanut butter). So clearly, the Alpha mouse is still sending his minions to the traps in order to set them off (and kill his competition) so that he can get the peanut butter. The strange this was the empty trap. The peanut butter was gone, but the trap hadn't gone off. So D tested the trap. And by tested, he set it, and then dropped a screw on it to see if it would go off. It did. And proceeded to fly up in the air. Very curious indeed, since now we know the trap works.

D decided to use his resources. The traps have a little plastic piece of "swiss cheese" where you are to place your bait. D thought if he stuffed the peanut butter into the holes, the mouse would have to work hard to get it all out and in doing so, the trap would go off. So he reset the traps and waiting.

I must interject that I'm pretty sure we're getting to the point of Wile E. Coyote trying to catch the Road Runner, minus the part where Wile E. Coyote gets hurt from his antics. D hasn't a scratch on him (yet) from this escapade, but I can tell he doesn't like the idea of being outsmarted by a mouse.

Sure enough, along came another mouse, caught in the trap. And again, the peanut butter was gone in both traps.

Now for those of you concerned that we're treating the symptom, not the problem, please know we have found the entry point for the enemy. D has developed a solution for keeping any more critters from gaining entry, but we still don't know how big the army we're fighting is. Clearly, as I said, there were enough to create a science-project scale version on observing survival of the fittest.

We're getting there. I'm hoping were actually nearing the end because I don't know if there is enough fodder here for this to keep being funny. But who knows? Maybe I can salvage the situation for humor. After all, when D and I were reading before bed last night, we both stopped and looked up. It sounded like a scamper, but we only heard it once. I thinking now the mice might just be screwing with us.