the quasi-road trip

…He’d look just like you’d want him to
Some kind of slick chrome American prince
Blue jean serenade
Moon River what’d you do to me
I don’t believe you

Saw Cinderella in a party dress
But she was looking for a nightgown…


I love Saturdays. Here is why: I wake up early (this is not the loving part), get dressed and go to dance for two hours and am reminded that I love dance but OH, how I want to sleep. Then, somebody picks me up, I go home, and get a second start to my day. Shower, and then I get dressed in something mildly ridiculous that makes me feel slightly more interesting than the rest of society. Then Haley picks me up in her car and we are often joined by the Nava-ho, Jamela or Kara-boo. I always attempt to call shotgun but Nava and I have fierce battles over it quite often. When it is just me and Haley like it was yesterday, I am the DJ. I am very good at this job.

The quasi-road trip always begins with some form of the question, “Where do you want to go?” It is usually answered by some lame suggestions and then a decision to play “Right-Left.” Sometime soon into our game of Right-Left, I will proclaim my hunger to the entire car and run down a list of foods to figure out what I want. We will find something to eat, and I will be happy. This is either before or after we end up in Hyde Park/Rhinebeck, because that’s where we always end up. Sometimes we end up in a bookstore/coffee house/cemetery/church.

The day usually ends with either a return to Nava-ho’s house and my favorite bed ever, or I get dropped at home for work in the morning, to which I say, “Bleh, I don’t wannna.”

Next weekend that Jamela is around I am going to propose to the girls some urban exploration. And we also still need to plan our Agloe trip.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s