Camping in October Pt. 1

Alright so here we go. This weekend was my vacation, if you could call it that. I drove out to Burr's after Physics class and did alot of cleaning and vacuuming as there is dog hair and dust everywhere and I am allergic to both (but not as bad as cats and horses). I took the dog for a walk and went to see the movie "Choke" to make sure it was almost as good as my favorite book by the same name, and that was pretty much that. I also picked up a book on how to play the keyboard and I've gotten it into my head that I'm going to learn piano. When you can sing but can't play an instrument you're pretty much useless, and I think its clear the guitar didn't really work out for me. Something a bit more linear or organized is necessary.

It started around 2:15pm. At this point I'm packed and ready to be out the door within a half hour. For some reason I only expect the trip to take 2 hours complete with a layover in central Mass before completing the entire trip to Carver, which is next to Plymouth. I'm an idiot. Burr's father calls and he's on the phone with him for some time and tells him he needs to be out the door at 3:15pm. I can accept that. I'm pretty sure we left at 4:20pm. Suffice to say, we reached our layover around 6pm and the purpose of the layover was to gather the tents and blankets I had left at the house and print out reading for Burr that pertained to a paper which had just been dropped on him and was due Monday. That was the first bad thing. My printer is chock out of black ink and the reading material is positioned sideways in Adobe Reader and we are therefore unable to copy and paste it to Word to turn the font blue. I sent him downstairs to my mom's printer which behaves as one might expect and spit out one printout per minute. There were over 30 pages. Because the dog has fur on it, my mom wouldn't let it go anywhere but the livingroom, and she decided to be a brat and whine for Burr for a good 10 minutes straight. I made him come upstairs and once I saw the second document he needed was upright, I went to the loft to print it off my computer. It copy pasted into Word, but wouldn't let out the margins and because of this and the fact that I was printing in blue ink, it spat out the printouts one every 20 seconds and I had to stand there and feed the printer paper one sheet by one sheet because its cool like that and eats everything if I put in more than one. When that was finally over I retrieved and printed Mapquest directions.

Finally we were out the door and made a pitstop at Wendy's so Burr could get some food. I was too agitated by the time (7:30pm) to eat and was bitching that the Mapquest directions said it would take two hours (rather than 30 to 40 minutes) to get to the campground. I didn't see this coming. Not only that, but when I asked him if the proof of rabies for the dog were in his backpack, he froze and admitted they'd been left on the footlocker in HIS APARTMENT. I called the campground and basically told them I was going to lose my shit and they said they'd let it slide. We were off! After regaining my optimism on 95 and 93 by listening to some good ol' Monty Python, I pulled over on a side road and swapped with Burr so I could read directions. Twenty billion .4 mile long backroads later we were in Brockton and the directions told us to take a left onto 27E. Thing was, there was no 27E, just North and South. Burr veered left and right over the solid white line as we argued loudly over which way he should go and that the directions did in fact tell me something impossible and I wasn't imagining it. Two seconds later a statie pulled us over and asked if we were drunk. The puppy growled like an asshole and I had to hold her down (stupid dog). We soberly and desperately beseeched him to help us and threw our awful Mapquest directions at him and he realized it was all Mapquest's fault but took Burr's license just to check it anyways since he had, after all, pulled us over.

Just to throw in some details- When Burr's license expired a year or so ago, he could not get it back until he paid an expensive speeding ticket incurred during our trip back from Pittsburgh, Thanksgiving 2006. One and a half months ago he paid it off, got his new license, and registered his new car. Everything was signed and paid for. The cop walked back and announced that Burr's license was revoked. Correct me if I'm wrong, but when they revoke your license, aren't they supposed to revoke it? Burr responded accordingly with complete disbelief and asked why it had been revoked. The cop couldn't tell us why and would've been forced to toss Burr in the slammer and tow the car, but I was there and was able to take over the driving. We asked again about the directions and he actually said "ahhh, fuckin'...I don't know, I think if you go up that way and take a left it'll take you there..." So we switched and drove away, a summons in Burr's hand and a tear in his eye.

Ten billion backroads and 3 requests for directions at liquor stores later we finally made it to the Myles Standish State Forest, and took the wrong turn into a cranberry bog. A few minutes later we had successfully checked in and driven to our spot only to find someone was in it. Luckily we were mistaken, and we set up tent in the dark and toiled over a fire that didn't light properly for-fucking-ever. And Burr refused to just give up and go to bed because we were finally there, at 11:30pm. 5 hours later than I had originally planned. When we finally did go to bed, I realized that physics do apply to me and the one comforter I had laid under us was doing nothing to stop the ground from sucking our heat away. I'm pretty sure neither of us slept more than one hour total if that on Friday night and when I woke up in the morning, I couldn't find the dog until Burr told me she was under the blanket. Like, all of her. I could barely sleep at all and there was a sleeping bag and afgan over us and we were huddled together for warmth. It sucked.

Much like the experience of repeatedly waking up depressed, I finally got up because the cold was making me miserable anyways. I walked outside and it was cool but beautiful. Burr walked up with the dog to greet me and we went out for breakfast at a little 50s style diner a couple towns over that literally looked like it had been dragged and dropped there 50 years ago. Everyone in there knew each other and greeted each other by name- waitress to patron. It is completely Burr's sort of place. Breakfast was great and I had crepes which I've been jonesing for forever and we chilled and talked.

Part 2 Here.