Martha Stewart I am Not

The thought crossed my mind today to bake something for Meredith's 30th birthday celebration tomorrow evening. A person only turns 30 once and I know when I turn 30, I will probably want to die... so anything I can do, like bring my cooking to help the process along, being that I'm such a good friend and all. I looked at a bunch of recipes and immediately realized (to my horror, yet not surprise), that I have just about nothing on the list of required ingredients in my apartment, besides salt.

Ingredients:

• 48 HERSHEY'S KISSES Brand Milk Chocolates I will have no problem buying this
  
• 1/2 cup shortening Whatening?
  
• 3/4 cup REESE'S Creamy Peanut Butter My PB is like months old, scary
  
• 1/3 cup granulated sugar Nope
  
• 1/3 cup packed light brown sugar Def, nope
  
• 1 egg Again, no
  
• 2 tablespoons milk Still no
  
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract Nada
  
• 1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour Not a chance
  
• 1 teaspoon baking soda Can't use the odor absorber kind?
  
• 1/2 teaspoon salt YESSSSSSSS!! I have this!!
  

Holy crap I am a frat boy. A frat boy with diet orange soda and diet nestea instead of beer. Is it still thoughtful to make the cookies that came in a tube? Please say yes...

This place sucks,... Where are we?

We joked last year that we should all apply for truck driver licenses, however I think this year we should just be awarded them. We certainly earned it. I volunteered to captain the first leg of the journey home and ended up with the hazards on going 45 mph in blinding rain while Jay and Meredith slept. What I was doing could have more likely been categorized as boating not driving. Then Meredith took over the driving in stop and go traffic and ended up slamming on the brakes causing Jay, who was sprawled across the back seat, to go flying into the back of our seats. Nothing was funny about that, however for some reason we could not stop laughing. The kind of laughing that is actually painful. He wasn’t moving, just moaning and giggling for 25 minutes while tears flowed down my face. After all of this excitement and completing 12 hours on the road I’m not sure why between 3 decently smart individuals, nobody bothered to suggest stopping at a hotel to sleep, but we didn’t...

I can now say that I’ve slept in a car on the side of the road. Although not much sleeping went on for me because it was so cold in the car, I was literally shaking. I suppose now I know what it’s like to be a homeless person, or at least a slightly sophisticated homeless person who has a car but is dumb enough to think it’s a great idea to drive straight from Florida to New Jersey. Meredith and I were so overtired and basically looked how you’d expect a person would look after spending 22 hours straight in a car... Like the grim reaper. At a rest stop we caught our reflection in the bathroom mirror and stopped, horrified. Not even a tan could help us in that situation. Finally we arrived in New Jersey at 8am to find 20 degrees and snow. I was seriously contemplating turning around and going back... immediately. Well maybe after a nap... or a hibernation...

Do you want my drink?, I'm done with it

Once again we rang in the new year at the Hard Rock Casino in Hollywood, Florida. This year however, the B52’s were there also... Which was... Cool? Had it been 1990. You know, the B52’s. Love Shack. Roam if you want to. Then Meredith says something about it being a Manic Thursday, citing she knows that’s the Bangles and isn’t really sure why she just said that. She’s wearing 3 happy new year hats and deciding she doesn’t want to possess them anymore so she’ll hand them out to random strangers walking by. She easily disposes of 2 then decides she doesn’t really want her drink anymore either and offers it to a guy walking by who looks at her like she is the strangest human being alive. From there she proceeds to the slot machines where she promptly loses $4.96 and cashes out her ticket for 4 cents. This is going to be a hilarious evening.

Meanwhile I am at the bar attempting to get a drink, bouncing along to Bon Jovi, and high fiving everyone over how cool Jersey is. The chick next to me was honestly the most wretched girl who was obviously jealous that I was better looking and having more fun than she was, so she kept giving me dirty looks and saying “sshhh.” Um, last time I checked this was a casino bar, not a library. She’s on the phone telling someone that I’m a whore, which makes a ton of sense because if standing at a bar waiting for a drink makes someone a whore, then I’m pretty sure she’s one as well. When I pay for my drinks, she asks me if I just spent my entire month’s salary. Who is this girl!? Was she sent here for my amusement because in a minute she was about to have my stiletto up her ass and honey, I’m wearing $600 shoes, clearly I am on food stamps, so why don’t you take your lame ass “disses” and go back to wherever it was you came from. Jay ran away when he realized that I was going to verbally annihilate this girl, leaving my friend Peri’s boyfriend to unsuccessfully try to put his hand over my mouth and muzzle me. Luckily my new year’s resolution this year wasn’t to not get into any fights. That one would be for naught...

I'm going to post it and label it empathy

The other day Meredith mentioned that she heard pale is totally in right now because of the vampire craze. Pale is the new tan? That is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, Jay commented. Oh, I concur. We’d now been down here for 3 days and on a scale of one to tan, Meredith and I were not quite satisfied with our brownness. We cannot go home without a suitable tan threshold. There are people counting on me to be obnoxiously tan when I get back, and really, how could I let them down. Tuesday was a whopping 64 degrees as Meredith and I sat by the pool, alone, shivering in our bikinis while her dad was at home with the heat on. This was quickly becoming an emergency. We were running out of time and needed some serious sun. Mission when we got to the east coast of Florida: Operation Brown. 2 days of intense sunning. We don’t leave until we look like mud.

At what temperature do Floridians think it’s acceptable to go to the beach? Personally I never knew being on the beach when it’s 73 and sunny labeled me as a tourist. However, our friend Mike who lives down here, and also wears SPF 50 (so really, he is a bad example) looked at us like we were crazy when we asked him to drop us off at the beach at 10am and not come back to get us til 4. He showed up to hang out with us around 3 wearing a pair of jeans. The next day we were able to convince him to spend the day with us and we all even went in the ocean! It must have felt to him what it feels like for me to walk around Times Square... If I was wearing a fanny pack. All in all 73, 64, 80, doesn’t really make a difference, they all easily beat 12 and snowing like it was at home while we were frolicking in the Atlantic. To stand in solidarity with our northern brethren, we took the above photo I call "Strange man digging" so you could see there was shoveling going on where we were as well. Don’t be jealous...

I think I can see New Jersey from up here

I’m all for adventure. Well, controlled adventure. I suppose I’ve never been much for thrill seeking and living on the edge. Hmm, ok not true... I went on the Cyclone in Coney Island, but I try to block that memory out. But, we are on vacation, so I decided to throw caution to the wind and be all that I could be. Actually I just really didn’t want Jay to call me a pussy all week. Last year when it was just me and Meredith, the craziest thing we did was to not flip over on the beach chair, but this year Jay is stuck with us and doesn’t much appreciate just laying around all day. Apparently the effort that goes into the fine art of tanning doesn’t interest him. On his list of things for us to do: wave running, parasailing, scootering, dirt biking, and swimming in the little pond in Meredith’s dad’s complex. Since we immediately nixed that last one citing the probability of alligators lurking in there, we ended up agreeing to wave running and parasailing. Let it be known that I have previously done neither of these activities, so I think my adventure quota for the next couple of years has been met, if not exceeded...

There was absolutely no way I was getting on the back of Jay’s wave runner, and also probably no way I should have gotten my own, so Meredith and I decided to ride together. She’s been on one before so I let her drive first and I sat behind her and basically put her in a strangle hold. We thought we were the biggest bad asses going like 40 mph as Jay zoomed by doing like 60, standing up, waving, and doing turns. Yup, fully would have died riding with him. Died or been thrown into the ocean, or both. Well now that I’d done that, I was starting to feel like I was invincible. Parasailing, sure why not!? 1200 feet? 2 dips? Bring. It. On. It’s not like I don’t like heights or anything. Jay had $20 on me freaking out up there, but besides the fact that my feet were turning purple from the cold, I was a trooper! There’s still no f’ing way I’m getting in that little pond though...

The goal is to have as many friends as possible

We’ve finally arrived in Ft. Myers. The trip never seems quite so bad in hindsight once we get here, but jesus that took forever. It definitely would have been faster to fly, but at least I can trust that Meredith nor Jay will attempt to blow up our car. It was nice however to get a good night’s sleep in a big fluffy bed and a real cup of coffee. The bed at Meredith’s dad's is amazing. Much more comfortable than the Comfort Inn. I have dubbed this the new Comfort Inn, and the Comfort Inn is now the Uncomfort Inn. The complete opposite of comfort.

Meanwhile Jay has been trying for days to log into Facebook to access someone’s email address, but had forgotten his password. Finally this morning he had a successful attempt and can see what the rest of the world has been doing for the past 6 months. He proclaims that it’s scary when girls you used to know contact you on Facebook after years. “Why are they contacting me? Do I have a kid out there somewhere? This chick has a picture of her and her baby. Does that baby look like me? I have like 15 friend requests, who are these people? Did I sleep with her?”

I really don’t even know what else to write after that...

I guess I just really wish I had two mouths

To say that no planning goes into the Road Trips I suppose is a bit of a stretch. I researched cool cities to stop or attractions on the route. This year the stops were Hilton Head Island, SC and Brunswick, GA and the Golden Isles. Of course, because of the car debacle and the fact that Jesus wasn’t born until the 25th, Hilton Head was not meant to be. I am fairly confident it will still be there for me to visit another time, so I wasn’t that upset. We did however decide to check out the working lighthouse I found in St. Simons Island, GA. Apparently you can climb to the top of this puppy, which is 104 ft in altitude... Up a narrow and windy staircase. So, we did. Me with my 4 inch heeled boots, claustrophobia and the fact that I fully forgot to bring any deodorant on this road trip. Once at the top, after my harrowing climb, we attempted to take photos of the 3 of us and Jay bobbled my camera and almost dropped it 104 ft to its doom which would have gone over superbly with my father considering the camera is 4 days old and my camera ruining track record. Luckily, he recovered in time to have not been the next thing to take a flight off of the lighthouse.

And he lived on to consume the “grande meal” at Taco Bell. The one people probably order for a family of 4. The best thing about going on vacation with Jay, is that no matter how badly I pig out, he will ALWAYS eat more than me. Therefore I don’t have to feel badly about myself as I stuff my craw with 3 soft tacos. I can look over, see him double fisting his 10 tacos, and almost not want to go into the bathroom and throw up. Almost.

It's better to not know where we're going on the way to where we're going

The truck driver road trips are notorious for having somewhere between loose to no plan whatsoever. We typically just start driving and worry about stops and stayovers en route. However, when you have what amounts to no plan to begin with, it’s difficult to have a contingency plan as well. So when faced with the fact that Meredith’s car had been in the shop for what seemed like as long as I could remember and would not be ready in time for Road Trip 09, we were forced to scramble. 27 hours on a train? A flight that could cost as much as one to the moon? Squeeze into Jay’s Infiniti 2-door? Hitch hike? Walk? We were in full on emergency mode...

The contingency plan is as following:

What: Road Trip 09 v.2.0
Who: Meredith, Jay, Jessica (the truck driver reunion)
Where: NJ ---> FL then back again
When: Friday December 25 (after Jay sees Santa)
How: Automobile (Jay’s mom was nice enough to lend us her car)

We met at the Cheesequake rest stop on the Garden State Parkway, took pictures of each other taking pictures of each other in the car, then drove around in circles trying to figure out where we’re going. Um, South? It’s Christmas day at 2:38 pm, we are still in NJ. Are we there yet?

We drove for hours in the fog and pouring rain and could have gotten off the exit and been in Oz for all I would’ve known since we couldn’t see 100 feet in front of the car. Meredith and I had eaten about 400 cookies, Skittles, and a bag of Cheetos and listened to “Empire State of Mind” and “Already Gone” 400 times. As much as I love Kelly Clarkson, I was really starting to wish that song was already gone. After we introduced Jay to the Jewish Christmas of Chinese food by stumbling upon what was probably the only Chinese restaurant in Virginia, Meredith decided that she was in a food coma and needed the car to be 90 degrees. Everyone fell asleep and I was stuck driving in a sauna listening to ghetto rap music, because I could barely see the lines on the road let alone try to change the radio or turn off the heat. Finally at 3am after Jay pounded some caffeinated sludge, we stopped at the Comfort Inn in South Carolina which is ironic because the sound of someone vacuuming at 4am is not something that adds to my comfort. Seriously are we there yet?