Trip to the island: I've fixed something that was broken. After years of avoiding this island, I finally made my first trip down here. So odd, being so attracted to geography and family history, yet harboring irrational fears for that place. Completely unfounded. I was surprised at how much i felt at one with this land. We drove around until we found a little shack with seafood, and I stuffed myself silly on scallops until I had to be rolled out to the rental car. I miss the ocean terribly.
The wedding at Thatched Cottage was wonderful. It seems like we never get together as a family so much anymore. Most if not all of my exclusion from these people is a construct in my own mind. I get busy doing busy things, and stuff like family so quickly falls off the table, completely unnoticed. It was a beautiful ceremony, and even more so once the microphone was turned on. It was windy, hot, and hazy the whole day, but the rain managed to hold off until the next day. The food was excellent, and we were surrounded by it the entire time; legions attacking our vulnerable diets.
Traveling Upstate: My sense of direction wasn't quite as keen when forced against the streets of Queens. Not that we were lost, mind you. We just took a slightly more scenic route to get through the city. Again, echoes of other places that I've lived fill in the blanks. When we finally beat the city back long enough to make it across the triborough, I navigated through the Bronx quickly and efficiently, making our way to the Taconic in short order. Redeeming points all around.
We logged some baby time, siting out in lawn chairs out back. Poor little thing got a sunburn, and we huffed indignantly at our own inaction. There will be another baby soon. Coming this December to a little brother near you: greatly expanded credit card debt racked up at the baby store. As a distanced spectator, the spectacle of another baby is alluring. The kids will be close enough in age that sneaking them into bars together when they're older won't be too much of a challenge.
Others gave the impression or apprehension and fear over these new developments. I didn't have the heart to break down the subtle repeating of history to anyone other than my wife. Everyone had a hard time of things, but we all got there in the end. I never imagined that life springing anew would lead to such strange reactions, even as I can understand them rationally. Hiding 700 miles away now is not as much of an issue as it seems when I am sitting in my cube at work.
A day of complicated travel connections: Breaking down a chunk of the eastern seaboard, old school style. Up at five, and already had everything packed. Threw things in the car, followed by a frantic departure in the bare light of the early morning. Three hours to drive down the valley. We smoked in the rental car like chimneys the whole way down, blazing past the Catskills as the obstacle they are at the moment. Traffic right before the Tappan Zee slowed us slightly, but we made up time by making good route decisions on the eastern side of the river. We arrived LaGuardia well before we expected, which left us plenty of time for goodbyes. Promptly got into a fight with a bus driver who seemed to arbitrarily decide that he's not going to deal with any cash on the bus. Another ten minutes spent running around the American terminal, trying to find a Hudson's so I can slap down way too much money on a Metrocard. Q33 to the E to Penn Station. I carried my suitcase combination like a champion, knocking people out of the way with the pointy corners. I am a professional public transit passenger.
Hopped on the Acela down to Philadelphia. Grabbed a seat all to myself, which was unexpected and wonderful, but was still unable to get an ounce of sleep on the train. I arrived at 30th Street Station before I knew it was coming up, and then whisked myself off in a cab to meet up at the office. Jumped in the rental and drove back into Jersey to see the client.
I'm not too much of an embarrassment: It took me the first day to realize that, no matter what I do, I am going to be "that weird guy." As soon as this epiphany washed over me, everything else on this trip became considerably easier. I politely and stealthily took a step back out of conversations on television and movies. I took the time to show some folks from the client how to use chopsticks, or explain in detail how it is I ended up with a maiden name. I sipped my drink, ate an excessive amount of corporate-purchased food, and let the folks run on ahead of me. It's just as well. I wasn't under any delusions: I was but an observer to this little dance.
I took full advantage of the hotels. King size beds all to myself, laying there with a bucket of ice on the bedside table for no other reason than the ready availability of the ice machine. I spent two hours ironing three shirts, paranoid that folks working for the client would snicker at the guy with the rumpled shirt. My paranoia was for nothing, as things went fine. I learned a lot, and I guess that was the ultimate goal in the first place.
I don't mind flying in airplanes, it's the airports I can't abide: A week worth of traveling made me weary and homesick to an extent, so I left early to make sure that I got on my flight on time. Had a really shitty cheese steak at the airport, which bruised my soul a little. I was so early that I was able to get on an earlier flight, only to sit out on the tarmac for two hours, watching other planes land and take off. My only comfort was the cute babies sitting across the isle from me, and an Archos loaded up with every episode of The Fast Show. Which was nice.
Hitting Chicago airspace from the southeast was a new approach, and the thunderstorms over the lake only made me slightly scared for my life. We came in on a sharp, steep approach, touching down at a speed I personally considered unsafe. As I'm not an pilot, I defer my judgment to those in the know, and we did survive after all so it wasn't so bad in retrospect. Fought through baggage claim to retrieve my bags full of goodies nicked from the Four Seasons, and onto the el for the final leg home. Lugging bags through the el station made people step back in fear. I am a professional public transit passenger.