Monday, October 30, 2006

 

In Which I Lie Some More


What I Did On My Weekend Trip: Chapter II

Saturday morning dawned for the second time a scant few hours after I had gone to bed, and somewhere in the middle of the night I had acquired quite a doozy of a headache. I hate it when that happens.

I hastily packed (one book, two knitting projects, three sets of needles, tapestry needles, one hairbrush, one toothbrush, one pair of socks, one tank top, one fleece shirt, one pair of underpants and a small bag of wine gums -- take that you girly-type packingpeople!) and hit the road.

Oh yes, and I packed the pair of satin underpants that I wear on my head. Apparently I'm not allowed to go to Seattle without them.

I left the house a couple of hours after I had planned, due in part to the small-child-feeding and due in part to the not-doing-mornings-well-or-gracefully thingie. The border crossing was a dream; the guards don't spend a lot of their questioning time on noticeably-dishevelled middle-aged housewives in minivans with a child seat in the back, apparently. This was fortunate, as I had decided that if the border guard was going to search me for Vegemite, I was going to bundle him in the car and take him to Seattle and force him to learn to knit for Dulaan. I'll do anything for a good cause.

Almost anything.

No, I won't show you my boobs if you knit hats.

Shut up.

wait. how many hats?

Following the most-exquisitely-exact directions of MaryB, I arrived about an hour and a half after I said I would. Circling the block to find parking, I noticed an agitated knitter circling the block also, waving her arms, jumping up and down and generally looking relieved that I wasn't dead on the highway. I guess I should have explained in advance that I really don't understand this "time" thing of which people speak, and that I always get there eventually, but seemingly I'm a bit of an ass like that.

There had in fact been a couple of accidents on the I5, which had slowed me down. I would have made the trip in about two and a half hours, border included, had not cocktail hour apparently started early 'round about those parts. There was some sort of football game on and a homecoming dealie (or are those the same things?) and there were a couple of occasions where the boys and girls with the flashy lights on their cars were having intense conversations with the local citizenry. I mentioned this to the no-longer-really-blogging Elaine and her wife Leslie, when I arrived, and they asked me in concerned tones if any of the accidents had been bad. I responded with "no, they were fine. I wasn't in any of them."

That pretty much set the tone for the rest of the afternoon, as Leslie ably demonstrated her ability to control hysterics under pressure. But only after Quite a Long Time.

next chapter: In Which I Meet a Lot of Interesting People and Learn to Hate Seattle Drivers, Especially That One Guy in the Big White Truck

Comments:
How many hats would it take?
 
Oh come on now, you know you'd show your boobs for a hat for Dulaan :)
 
WTF are wine gums?
 
Hooray for light packers! I'm about to hit the road myself, taking my car from Cornwall, Ontario, to Cincinnati, Ohio.

My MIL, with whom we're living currently (pray for me), is making this huge to-do about what I'll pack. And she gets all upset when I say I'm taking one extra full change of clothes. I'm going to my parents, fer pete's sake, and they have a washer. One change of clothes and a damn toothbrush. Crimony.

I'll show my girls to anyone who wants to look. After I got em pierced, that's practically all I blogged about.
 
I did what?
 
Hey, you forgot to tell us about the guy in the white truck. He must have done something truly heinous, yes?

You didn't show HIM your boobeis did you?
 
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