Notes From the Road

Greetings from Bethlehem, PA. I'm currently sitting in Roger Mexico's living room, listening to Radiohead and quaffing the fine local brew, trying to type quietly so as not to wake my host.

Who am I kidding? The boy could sleep through a full scale nuclear assault.

(Oh, and speaking of Radiohead, they're the guest stars this week on South Park. Can I say how terrified I am?)

So, to catch up...Rosencrantz took me to the airport bright and early on Saturday morning. I was still nervous about the whole travelling alone thing, and I'd never used e-tickets before. Oh yeah, and I was exhausted from the happy hour that I stayed much too long at the night before. So I mumbled something to the clerk at the ticket counter approximating my reservation info, and he managed to pull my boarding passes in about 30 seconds, and was really nice to me. Yay Northwest Airlines.

The flight(s) to Philadelphia were rather uneventful. A bit of turbulence, screaming kids during take-off. Roger Mexico was a little late picking me up( due to traffic). We tossed my bags in the trunk and set off to explore Philadelphia. We did the touristy stuff; we saw the Liberty Bell and walked through part of Independence Hall. I'm not a big history buff, but it's always cool to see the things you've read about in your elementary school social studies class. The Avenues of the Arts section of town was nearby, so we walked around there as well, checking out the shops and lamenting the fact that we missed Echo and the Bunnymen by two days.

It started to get dark, and I had a gigantic blister on my toe, so we headed back to his apartment, stopping on the way to get some beer. Apparently beer is only available from licensed beer distributors here, rather than being in every gas station and mini-mart in the city. Weird, but not a big deal. We had a few beers and fell asleep in front of the TV. (Turner Movie Classics was showing Jaws, which I haven't seen in its entirety since my father traumatized us by taking the family to the theater to see it in the 70s. And since I fell asleep, I guess I still haven't seen it since.)

On Sunday, we decided to go see A.I. at the local theater. Since everyone with internet access has dissected this movie with a fine-edged instrument, I'll forgo the nitpicky comments. It was uneven, but overall we decided we liked it. Jude Law was good, as was Hayley Joel Osment. I was almost as excited about the trailers as I was the movie, though. Fellowship of the Ring, Jurassic Park III, and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone! I was hopping up and down in my seat like a giddy seven year old. Roger Mexico just looked at me like I was a complete freak. Which I am.

After a quick stop at the grocery store (we're trying to be frugal and save our money for New York this weekend), we went back to the apartment and had a quick dinner before stopping over at a get-together with Roger Mexico's co-workers. I was the only woman, the only non-theater person, and the only non-employee of the university, so at times I was a little lost in the conversation. But all in all, Roger Mexico works with quite nice folks.

I must also say that the city itself is quite nice. A lot of the buildings are quite old, and there's a definite small town charm to it all. Driving past the abandoned steel mill was really depressing, but fascinating. Miles and miles of empty buildings and long untouched machinery. It reminded me of growing up in my hometown when they shut the General Motors plant down. One minute a booming industry that was the lifeblood of the town, the next...nothing. Sad. But it seems that the city is starting to bounce back.

I wish I could say I slept well that night, but I ended up having horrendous nightmares, which culminated in the cats knocking a large wooden board onto my legs at 6:00 am. Ouch. At least it stopped the bad dreams, I guess.

I puttered around the apartment for the majority of the day, and amused myself by cleaning Roger Mexico's kitchen while he was at work. He hadn't unpacked all his dishes, so I took it upon myself to unpack the last box, wash the dishes, and find homes for them in the cabinets. It kept me busy, and made me feel like I was earning my keep.

After dinner, we walked to the library to return a few movies and ended up renting a few as well. Tonight was The Hudsucker Proxy, which has been on my list of movies to rent for ages. The Coen brothers and Sam Raimi...hee. And Bruce Campbell was in it. Yay! I'm going to be saying "You know...for kids," for the next few weeks.

Tomorrow I swear I'm going to walk around the neighborhood. There's a lot of little shops within a few blocks, as well as a large bookstore and a movie theater (which is showing Doctor Dolittle 2, which I kind of want to see). And tomorrow night I think we're going to drive to New Hope, which apparently is an artsy little town near Philly. Because, as lovely as the town is, it's not exactly the excitement capital of the world, and we don't want to spend every night glued to the TV watching movies.

And I need to buy real coffee. Roger Mexico unintentionally bought decaf. And it's Folgers. This will not do, and unless he wants me to drink all of his instant Cafe Mocha (which actually isn't half bad), I need to get some real stuff. There's a gourmet coffee shop up the street; I'm sure they have carry-out beans. I figure it's the least I can do since he's sharing his fake chicken with me.

There's also an open poetry reading on Friday at a nearby shop, and if I can persuade Roger Mexico to dig out his copy of my book, I may go and possibly unleash my angsty verse upon the unsuspecting locals. Or I may just sit there like a wimp and politely listen.

The New York trip is shaping up to be interesting but busy. We're trying to figure out how to meet up with two of Roger Mexico's co-workers from previous jobs as well as arranging a meeting with Crew and J, as well as going shopping for CDs in a few trendy little shops in the Village and hitting a club that night. Of course, we still haven't decided when we're actually leaving for the city, or where we're going to stay. Roger Mexico is worse at planning ahead than I am, and that's saying something.

Some relaxing vacation, huh? I'm living the glamorous life even in the middle of nowhere.

A Change in Plans

Another night where sleep eludes me. Hopefully if I post, I'll be able to stop my brain from whirring around inside my head enough to get a few hours of rest.

My vacation plans have changed. Originally I was planning to spend a week at Sirius Rising with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, JohnnyB, Hacksaw, and other friends. But at the last minute, I changed my mind.

It comes as no secret to those who know me that I've been going through some tough times. Some of it is easily explained (job stress, the departure of Roger Mexico), but a lot of it is related to deep seated traumas that happened years ago, and still have a tendency to surface at the most inopportune moments. And some of it is a complete mystery to even me.

It's been getting steadily worse, ranging from the occasional bad day to the point when my emotions are in complete control (but have yet to receive their drivers' license). Sometimes I have no idea who's driving my brain, but I feel like a passenger in the back of a taxi that knows this can't possibly be the shortest way to the airport.

Lately it's been showing up when I'm around large groups of people, especially if the majority of the group are strangers. I've ranged from internal comments of "What the hell am I doing here? Get me out, NOW!" to full blown major panic attacks. The warning signs have been getting louder and brighter - buzzing neon signs that continually blink "You have a problem. Do something about it."

After the last warning sign announced itself, not by blinking excitedly but by smacking me hard across the face, I sat back and did some major thinking. The result, after a lot of tear-filled evenings and emails, is that I am not going to Sirius Rising next week. Given my unpredictability in situations as of late, I figured it wouldn't be a good idea to attend a week-long workshop where I'd be socializing with tons of new people who could set me off with a word.

Instead, I will be spending the week with Roger Mexico in The Middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania. In doing this, I will accomplish a lot of things. I'll get out of town, thereby making it an official vacation (plane ride and all!). I'll have a lot of time to myself during the day to write or veg or whatever, to try to sort out whatever wiring has gone bad in my head. I'm no professional, but I don't see the need to call someone in to fix things if it's something I can manage with a little time and a psychological screwdriver. And of course, it will allow me the opportunity to see Roger Mexico, whom I have missed terribly.

I submitted my bid to Priceline and it was approved. I have confirmation; I'm Philly bound Saturday morning, by way of Detroit. (Briefly off topic - why are my layovers always in Detroit? I have flown on a total of four vacations, this one included, and the only ones with layovers ditched me in the Motor City. Am I going to be thrown out of an airport bar again because of my cigarettes?)

To be honest, this is all very scary to me. I've never made my own airline reservations; I've never travelled alone. And now here I sit with a big chunk of change withdrawn from my checking account and a printed itinerary of Northwest flights. It's a bit nerve-wracking. I have to remind myself that people do this everyday, and I am fully capable of checking in my luggage and finding my gate without someone holding my hand.

Roger Mexico seems to be worried that I'm going to be bored in his new hometown during the daytime while he's away at work. He's assured me that he basically lives in the center of town, so there will be plenty of things within walking distance for me to check out. He's talking a weekend trip to New York City. I've explained that I don't need to be entertained, and I'd be perfectly happy with hanging out with him and the kitties doing nothing, just like we used to do when he lived a few blocks away. (Well, except this time we'd have cable.) But if I have to spend a weekend in the Big Apple, I'll manage somehow. Sigh.

(Side note to Crew: still not definite on plans yet, but I swear I will let you know if we require the tourguiding expertise offered up by J and yourself. At the least, I'd love to meet for a cup of coffee, or whatever it is that you drink. Although the meeting of two such intellects could be a dangerous proposition, and I'm pretty much letting Roger Mexico plan this whole shebang. He's being good enough to put with me for nine days solid; I don't want to push my luck asking for more.)

I still feel a bit bad about bailing on the original plans, but I just have a feeling that this is a much better game plan to clear my head. I didn't want to run the risk of me sulking in my tent, while Rosencrantz tried to lure me out for Hacksaw's drumming workshop. Lately, I've found myself more comfortable explaining the inner-workings of my head to Roger Mexico, so I think the chances of me becoming a complete basket case around him are much smaller. Not that most of my other friends haven't been supportive in regards to what's going on with me lately: Rosencrantz sent me a lovely email offering whatever help she can provide, and Zappagirl and I spent a lengthy evening discussing it. Jools has offered up support at work. And of course Roger Mexico and Crew have sent incredibly wonderful emails reassuring me that the problems at hand are not as insurmountable as they seem.

Thanks, all of you. It means a lot, and makes me feel much less alone and small and nicotine-stained. (Sorry. I'd written that phrase years ago for a character in a story I never finished, and I've been dying to use it for quite some time. Pardon me while I check that off my "to do" list.)

I hope I'm making the right decision. I'm in a pretty fragile mental state at the moment, and I'm not really enjoying it. I've been trying to keep it from interfering with this page, since "depressed online journalist" does not make "interesting reading." However, I also don't want to lie here. Sometimes it's really fun pretending to be one of the beautiful people, but sometimes this page is just me, warts and all. I just want to get back to being the overcaffeinated cynical ingenue that you all know and like a bit.

And all of this talk of vacation reminds me that I really must work on expanding this site. I need to have a place to put vacation photos, after all.