You know the Liveblogging drill: keep checking back for updates, or abstain and read all at once tomorrow—oh what a treat. I liveblog because Henry ignores me.
7:36am: HI GUYS we’re about to embark on this year’s shoddily planned vacation! Chooch is a fucking hornet and keeps growling and NOW HE CANT GET HIS SHOE ON OH WOE IS HE. Henry just walked past with his hands full of suitcases and said, “I’ll get these; you guys just sit there.” Um, yeah. Duh.
7:42: Chooch’s shoe still isn’t on and we still haven’t left. The usual.
7:53: Chooch made me an Emarosa bracelet last night and left it for Henry to tie in the morning. I was watching him tie it and I yelled IS THAT A SERVICE KNOT? He calmly replied, “No. It’s a double knot.”
8:22: Just stopped at Sheetz where Henry yelled at us the entire time and made us feel confused about what we were “allowed” to get. I got coffee and some Fig Bar thing and then ran away because I hate road trip Henry. HE’S MEAN.
8:50: Henry just tried to make some dumb joke and I’m not talking to him so in my head I thought, “Go stick your dick in a cabbage-bun.” But he would probably like that so I hope it’s one that is straight outta the oven!!
9:30: just realized we were driving past a lake and I mimicked violent vomiting, to which Henry sighed and said, “REALLY?” Also, I wish Death Cab would do a Something About Airplanes tour. I haven’t really liked anything they’ve done last Transatlanticism but SAA has always been my favorite. It got me through a lot of traumatic times at the abusive Meat Place I worked at with Henry and that is not an euphemism for the time when I was Henry’s sex slave. I just call that time “paycheck from hell.” I didn’t get much sleep last night.
9:36: We’re in Maryland. I always forget that Maryland and Pennyslvania touch.
10:26: Chooch just woke up and is asking ludicrous questions now, like how many miles is New Zealand from Australia. And I’m like “unless you’re asking because you want to go to the Soundwave festival next year, shut up no one cares.”
11:30: We’re at the Old Town Diner in Myersville, MD and Chooch is dying because our waitress said “y’all.” Henry is this angry:
12:46: Explaining to Henry the article Terri sent me about musical frissons, or skin orgasms, and his eyes are now rolling somewhere behind our car on 270. He just doesn’t get it. “It’s sad that you’ll never experience it,” I said to him in exaggerated sympathy. “I feel really bad for you.” He just tried to roll his eyes again but forgot he already cartwheeled them out of his head the last time.
12:50: SAY HELLO TO THE BAD GUY.
Henry just said we have three more hours though, wtf?? How big is Virginia?? Ugh.
2:46: Slept for awhile until Henry woke me up to see a large plaster roller skate we were driving past and it wasn’t even that cool so now I’m in a bad mood and Henry exacerbated it when he drove thru a Dunkin Donuts and got me coffeeless iced coffee because I think guy asked him if he wanted wanted extra cream and idiot Henry said yes without asking me. I hope he chokes on his Chips Ahoy donut. (Kidding! Because that would put my life in danger too, God forbid.)
3:16: I just randomly burst into tears because I miss Warped Tour & Henry, before I even finished my whine, barked, “Oh my god. Why don’t you just get a goddamn job with Warped Tour and travel with them all summer?” He was so mean when he said it, but then after considering this and calming down, he added, “You could be Kevin Lyman’s conflict analyst.” WHICH IS FUNNY IF YOU KNEW WHAT DEPT I WORK IN AT THE LAW FIRM. I would be so good at that! I could research all of the bands and make sure none of them were pedophiles or sex offenders or rapists, or have any major beef with each other.
4:41:Just checked in. Right as Henry was hitting “accept” for the resort’s agreement contract thing, Chooch almost put a rocking chair through the window.
Henry, grumbling: Oh, we’re gonna pay for it tomorrow morning at the time share presentation.
6:46: Went to the pool for a bit and now we’re waiting for our table at Food For Thought which is right across from Ripley’s Believe It Or Not and Chooch is being OMG SUCH A FUCKING BRAT because of course he wants to go there and we are like “we went to the one in Gatlinburg & if you’ve been to one you’ve been to all” but he’s still going on and on and THERE IS NO ESCAPE. Even the sign in the parking lot of this restaurant says “additional parking at Ripley’s Believe It Or Not.” Hey Ripley’s, believe it or not you can go fuck yourself.
7:19: we have the best waitress in this joint. She said she likes my tattoos and Chooch’s hair and said “you guys are just cool in general” and then she carded me. And the vegetarian options here have me feeling #soblessed
and said, “I don’t get it. Oh. George Bernard Shaw said it. No wonder.” ???
We then had a riveting conversation about wet walnuts and cherry Coke. God, can Henry facilitate deep discourse or what.
Food For Thought had conversation starter cards on the table and Chooch was excited about it. “Daddy’s not going to answer any of those, you know. He hates sharing storied about himself,” I said.
“No, I just don’t like talking to you people,” Henry sneered, right before ordering POT ROAST. God, what an “AARP supper.” And coleslaw! Coleslaw twice in one day. Henry must have been on slaw duty in the SERVICE mess hall back in the day, hence the affinity for that mayo bath of a side dish.
10:14: I just realized that Savannah is over 7 hours away from Williamsburg. This whole time I thought it was like 4?!
10:23: I miss my succulents. :( Especially Panne.