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Cocktail of the day: Mississippi planter's punch

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Jul. 15th, 2006 | 10:10 pm
mood: fullfull

For purposes of nostalgic closure, I will now sum up the rest of my New Mexico trip. The last three days were not as notable as the first four. I am also inadvertently leaving a lot of words out of sentences as I type; I blame the subject of the subject line.

Really the only notable thing on Sunday, July 2 was going again to the Plaza Park, at about 4 p.m. Darren Cordova was scheduled to play, so we went and Mom and Auntie Laura yelled and hooted during the ridiculously long introduction of him, his band, and his children (who are in his band). It was all really arrogant and unnecessary; he even had mariachi escorts when he finally came up to the stage. What the fuck. One of them happened to be gorgeous, though, and extremely tight pants are a standard part of the uniform, so that was okay. Earl and I basically tried to shrink as low as possible in our chairs during this whole fiasco; it was also really cold, so I was generally pretty uncomfortable. There were also a large number of people in their 60s and 70s smoking, which was a bit disturbing.

Oh yes, there was another interesting occurrence on Sunday. Brian and Susannah were over with Keith, Kayla, Kenneth, and Susannah's daughter (and even though she is basically my 2nd niece, I can't recall her name right now) and we had a huge chaotic dinner before going down the street to Susannah's grandparents' house to shoot fireworks. I got some interesting photos of fireworks with headlights of traffic passing by on I-25, and it was a generally reflective experience (and it took a helluva long time; Brian bought shitloads of fireworks, heh). Susannah's grandmother and older brother also talked to me quite a bit about how they hadn't seen me in a long time, and they were impressed when I told them what I had been up to. It was interesting and sort of sad because I didn't really remember them but they certainly knew me; a pretty common experience for being one of very few young people in my neighborhood, I guess. I also am pretty sure that her older brother was hitting on me ... yeah. Anyway, I found that a hugely nostalgic night.

I don't recall anything at all happening on the Monday, so on to Tuesday, July 4. I was in transit, and that was fine because I had done enough celebrating during the previous days. I woke up at 7:something and scooted out the door with Mom, Dad, and my luggage. The drive to Albuquerque was gorgeous at that time of day, and I was dropped off at the curb without incident. I had the usual routine: check-in, security (quote from TSA: "You can go into the next line [no waiting], unless you wanna go through the puffer." Um, no thanks.), Quizno's sub, observation lounge. Then I flew to Atlanta ... where I had something like a 3-hour layover, so I managed to walk the length of Terminals B, C, and D twice; it is pretty crazy how many people are in that airport at the same time. I got some food from Mandarin Express, and I have to report that the only difference between the bourbon chicken and the General Tso's chicken is the color. I spoke to Snapper on the phone twice as he was at BWI waiting for his final flight back from Italy, and he got confused as I told him I was flying into GSO, heh. Finally we got onto that flight, and yay for mainline! The flight ended up landing pretty late though, because we were flying around a giant thunderstorm and had to just fly in circles around the Piedmont while we waited for it to pass by the airport; as we were landing, though, there were fireworks in all directions, and it was pretty nifty to see.

Landing about 35 minutes late was not too bad, and I thought that I might actually get back to Durham before midnight. I should have known better. The baggage came quickly and I did manage to find OJ in the hella confusing parking garage, and I paid for the parking without incident. Then, though, the poor road signage probably did me in; I squinted through the rain and believed that I was going toward I-40, but apparently I was not. By this point the storm was intense: extremely bright lightning and loud thunder to match, and driving rain. There was a whole lot of traffic on whatever road I found myself on; perhaps people leaving a fireworks display, and I got totally confused and never found I-40. I somehow found myself in mostly abandoned downton Greensboro with no idea how I'd gotten there; the rain let up by then, but the lightning was still strong and the sound of occasional fireworks scared the hell out of me. I circled for another 30 minutes or so, not having any clue where I was, but I was headed out of town in some direction because everything was getting sparse. Finally I called Nathan desperate for directions and he managed to steer me in the right direction and tolerate my cries of "Jesus Christ!" as more lightning bolts struck. I finally got on I-40 about 90 minutes after I'd landed and made the drive to Durham, and called Mom and Dad to let them know I was there. I was totally jarred by the time I got home and was not happy about work in 7 hours, but whaddaya gonna do. It was a damn good trip anyway.

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