No More White After Labor Day

I've returned from a weekend up north with the parents. Note: I first went to write "'rents" but just couldn't do it. It would've flowed better, but that term is so cheesy.

The weekend got off to a great start. I got up Saturday morning and had the best run of my life. It was about 9 1/2 - 10 miles, but I never tired or slowed. In fact, I picked up speed, which isn't uncommon for me, but I gained a great deal of momentum around the 7 mile mark. And I never felt better. The only thing that stopped me from going further was the fear my parents would send out a search party if I wasn't back in the amount of time I said it would take. I also had to tell them the path I planned on following in case I was attacked by a black bear or something! I swear, they still see me as 12 years old.

The weather was beautiful -- we couldn't have asked for better. Thanks to lazy weekends at the Lifetime pool, I have a wonderful tan this year. I can't remember the last time I was this tan. This past weekend only added to my golden brown base. I spent the majority of it soaking up cancerous, UV rays on the dock and floating on a tube in the water while Brody was busy going after minnows. He began employing a new tactic of standing still, staring down into the water, and then as soon as he sees movement, pounces.

I also finished Something Borrowed and got some writing done so that gave me a sense of accomplishment. My dad and I went fishing and caught some pan fish. I'm a girly-girl, but I LOVE fishing and camping and outdoor activities as well.

Things didn't take a turn for the worse until Sunday night when my mom and I got into it yet again. I don't know what's up with her lately, but she has not been herself. She's been ornery and bitter and hostile to everyone. It was evident all weekend so I finally let it be known Sunday before dinner when she snapped at me and told me to quit asking her stupid questions when I'd only been inquiring about the segway tour she'd taken about a month ago. I told her she'd been mean and condescending all weekend, which she denied and when she asked my dad if he agreed, he told her she'd been "angry." She then refused to eat supper, saying to my dad, "enjoy your daughter" as she pouted upstairs and decided to take off at 7:30 pm to drive the four hours back home.

That was fine by me. I had plans to meet up with TheGuy that evening. Both up north at our cabins, we met in a town that happens to be a twenty-minute drive for both of us, coming from opposite directions. When we made arrangements to meet, I found it amusing that with no cell phone signals, we had to communicate the old-fashioned way, through the LAN line -- no text messaging or caller ID. When he called my cabin, no one was home so he had to leave a message on the answering machine. Then when I returned his call, his mom answered, I had to ask for him, she had to notify him, he picked up, and then we had to wait for his mom to hang up. It most definitely reminded me of junior high when you would call a guy's house and cross your fingers that his mom or dad wouldn't answer the phone. Oh, how times have changed!

TheGuy and I met at an ice cream parlor called Frosty's -- it's sort of legendary up there. It's tradition for my family to go there every trip. We got ice cream (my second one for the day) and walked around the town -- mind you, "town" consists of one block. Then we headed over to a playground we spotted nearby. I was really disappointed there was no tire swing, for I have a reputation for being a good tire swing pusher. However, we swung on the regular swings and he pushed me on another swing that was a circular disk attached to a knotted rope. Never too old for playgrounds, right?

We then crossed back to the other side of this stream and went to the only bar/restaurant in town, Patrick's with a four-leaf clover as the apostrophe in the name. We talked and had a few beers. He had Summit and made fun of my Miller Lite. Yeah, not much of beer drinker, but it seemed appropriate for the venue. Our beers were a whopping $2 each.

I've eaten at Patrick's many a time with my family so it was quite different to be drinking late at night there. That was a first and interesting experience for me. Our bartender was borderline creepy and kept muttering things to himself, or if he was talking to us, we couldn't understand him. For some reason, the last hour we were there, everyone's conversations suddenly came to a halt and they appeared to be eavesdropping on ours. I have no idea why. Perhaps because we were half their age so they thought we might have something intriguing to say? We weren't talking loudly, but somehow our voices were overheard over everyong else in the bar.

At one point, we got into a funny conversation about fru-fru drinks. It began with margaritas and daquiris, but then turned to what you drink when you're 21 and don't know any better -- Boone's Farm, Smirnoff Ice, and Zima with the jolly rancher in the bottom! Apparently, TheGuy never tried it with the jolly rancher. The townie woman next to him butted in, saying, "You guys are making me thirsty for one of those drinks!" Um, yeah, anyway...

My favorite part of the bar was this framed, autographed picture of a snowmobiler with his shirt off. He looked like a fireman posing for one of those calendars, only there was a picture of him mid-air in a snowmobile below his chiseled stomach. It was ridiculous! So damn funny. If I'd had my camera, I definitely would've posted the pic for all to enjoy.

When we left the bar, TheGuy pointed out that there was a dog in the middle of the street. The dog got all excited when he saw us, quickening his pace. He was a mutt of some kind -- possibly chocolate lab and german shepherd?? I worry when I see dogs on their own like that. I can't help but think of their distraught owners. At least, I would be a wreck if my dog went missing. TheGuy tried to assure me the dog wasn't lost, but I guess we'll never know. When I went to pull out from my parking spot, I almost ran over the poor dog!! I knew it was so because I saw TheGuy get out of his car to warn me and then I saw the dog to the side. I felt terrible as I was leaving because the dog continued to follow my car for as long as he could. I am such a sucker when it comes to animals. :( Had the circumstances been different, I probably would have taken him home and posted "found dog" pictures around town.