small.town.girl

This past weekend, my college roommate came for a visit. She comes from the very liberal land of Washington DC, where she is a social-worker-in-training. When she visits, sometimes I am reminded just how insane PA can actually be.

The night we were discussing her impending visit, I noticed a truck in a parking lot covered in bumper stickers. The most notable of these stickers? “I’ll forgive Jane Fonda when the Jews forgive Hitler.” Yeah, seriously. What the…?

However, the real WTF moment was while we were out at the bar. Now Jill and I have always been a bit crass; it’s just who we are. After a couple of beers at a local pub (a classier joint than the outings of our early twenties; the one bartender here puts the shamrock in your Guinness foam!), we were discussing which celebrities we thought would die this year. I mean, 2009 was a year for tragic celebrity deaths with Farrah, Michael, Patrick, Brittany, etc. 2010 has potential. First on Jill’s list was Amy Winehouse. The lady bartender overheard, and joined in our conversation. She also had Amy Winehouse at the top of her list, which made us happy and allowed her to stay in our conversation.

Big mistake.

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The Year in Review

In January, at my first InnerPartySystem concert

For me, 2009 was a transitional year. In 2008, I was treading water, working nearly the entire year at a job I grew to hate and searching for the motivation to aspire to something greater. In 2009, I worked through numerous obstacles to find a foundation for successful living. Part of my ability to have a good year was courtesy of resolutions I made last year. Honestly, I don’t remember them exactly because I recorded them in my now defunct BlackBerry, but they improved my diet until about mid-summer, when I gave up and started eating poorly again. Another key factor in how I lived in 2009 was the spontaneous departure from my job. If I hadn’t done that, there’s a slight chance I would still be living miserably, making barely enough to get by.

In December, at my sixth InnerPartySystem concert (with Patrick!)

It’s funny how things work. In January, I quit my job without any sort of back up plan. It was necessary, but scary at the same time. About a week later, I met Dan for the first time. The end of 2008 and beginning of 2009 were fueled mainly by Patrón, but by March and my “official” start of a relationship with Dan. I spent the beginning of the year unemployed and going insane, but able to work on myself through Wii Fit and hiking, so it wasn’t a total loss (but it was some weight loss!). I finally found myself working at a convenience store for some funds, which provided a crash course in how I do not want to spend the rest of my life. By June, I knew that I needed to take steps to get away from a survival job, so I took guest teacher training to obtain emergency substitute teaching certification for fall. My luck improved even more when I randomly saw a position in Hershey’s Central Reservations posted online in June and I switched to a cushier, more fulfilling “summer” job with higher pay and more hours.

Basically, as soon as that job ended, I was subbing. And that brings me to where I am now, staring at a calendar wondering how 2009 flew by and pondering possible resolutions.

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My good friend, Kate Amann (Chocolate Cake and Beer), was in from Scotland for the holidays. I haven’t seen her in person since 2006, so when the opportunity arose to visit her, I made the appropriate plans. I’d known about her trip since spring, and I made Dan sign on for the visit in summer. We didn’t really anticipate the decade’s biggest snowstorm to hit the weekend we were supposed to drive to Frederick, Maryland.

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One of the benefits of dating Dan is his proximity to Longwood Gardens. The Gardens exist thanks to the Peirces, who took an interest in planting an array of trees on the land, and the du Pont family (aka those who amassed a fortune from the DuPont chemical company) for purchasing the land to preserve the trees. The place has amazing history going back to the late 1700s, but I won’t bore you with that, because this is mainly a picture post.

Dan’s been going to Longwood since he was a kid, but I only went for the first time when we started dating. I’ve seen the seasons change there this year, and it’s been a beautiful experience. Longwood at Christmas is something that draws in huge crowds. Usually, they have their fountains lit in addition to all the Christmas lights, but the temperature wasn’t cooperative during our visit. It was probably in the low 30s and it was breezy! Thankfully we spent some time in the conservatory where it was warmer, and Dan bought me a hot chocolate when we were back in the outdoors. All in all, it was another amazing experience and he walked away with some beautiful pictures.

So without further ado, the gallery…

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Sunday morning came far too fast. We woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking, and when I emerged from the bathroom, my birthday presents were waiting for me on the bed. Dan, of course, did a fabulous job. He framed a picture of us before our He Said Beer / She Said Wine dinner and one of my favorite pictures that he took on one of our outings (and he got frames that were my style, too). He also got me the Dandy Warhols vinyl that I had drooled over–and it’s signed! The mix CD that came as part of my gift beat the mix I’d made him in August, but I wouldn’t know that until the drive home from his house that evening.

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We celebrated Dan’s birthday at the beach, but for my birthday I wanted to do something special to me. Twenty-five being a symbolic age, I wanted to do something “grown up.” My idea was to rekindle my romance with the Eastern Shore and visit Washington College now that I’ve gained some distance from it. There was also supposed to be a music festival on campus (which never came to fruition). Little did I know when planning this trip, however, that Chestertown no longer felt like home to me. I’d felt it a bit on previous visits, like when I saw the new dorms for the first time. However, this visit was to a different campus. I recognized so few faces, and I’ve known for some time that the general make up of the student body has changed since I was there. Needless to say, after our 90 minute drive to town, I was nonplussed. After visiting a few friends and grabbing lunch at one of the restaurants I miss most, Procolino’s, Dan and I departed for Rock Hall, a town 20 minutes to the west and right on the bay. While debating where to stay when we originally planned this trip, we’d considered the hotels in Chestertown, but I ended up deciding on a whim that I wanted to stay at a bed and breakfast–one in particular. The Inn at Huntingfield Creek had a website that lured me in and promised relaxation and comfort, and I thought it would be close enough to Chestertown that we could go back and forth between the two with ease.

When we finally arrived at the bed and breakfast, I tried to shake the foul mood that Chestertown’s changes had caused. The long driveway led up to a beautiful house, and as we pulled into a parking space, the awkward kicked in. did we go in the front door? How do we announce ourselves? Questions even Google can’t answer always rush into my head at inopportune times; they make interacting in the real world difficult because while I’m really just petrified with fear over doing or saying the wrong thing, it often comes across as rudeness. Luckily, in this case, there were three dogs to announce our arrival and one of the innkeepers–Jim–was quick to intercept us and give us a tour. He greeted Dan as the “person who asked the most pre-stay questions ever.” In Dan’s defense, most of the questions were mine. I’d started having nerves about the trip as soon as I’d given my credit card information, and Dan swooped in to help ease my overactive imagination’s fears.

The property of the Inn at Huntingfield Creek was absolutely gorgeous even though our stay fell on the cusp of fall. The path to the dock was bordered by soybeans and sunflowers. The field of sunflowers–probably majestic in the summer–were going to seed. The leaves of the trees were threatening to change colors, and some crunched under our feet. Inside, our room looked just as it did online. We had a large bed an an antique bathtub. The blue was rich and gave the room a relaxing vibe. Since it was too early for dinner, we thought we’d take our books down to the bay to enjoy the sunset. We set out, Dan with his Nikon and me with Sedars and King in my purse. The walk took us through those fields and a wooded area before opening up to bay grasses. However, the Chesapeake was so happy to see us that it tried to come up to greet us; the water had cut off access to the dock, and mocked us by seeping up further as we stood there. We returned an hour later after settling for secluded chairs by the pond and the scene was worse. Fish swam in the path, and our shoes squished in the grass. The sunset was breathtaking, and it symbolized that we needed to grab food. At the advice of our innkeepers, we went to a local restaurant called Harbor Shack for dinner. My entrée was basic, but our appetizer was scrumptious. I wanted to give myself a facial with that crab dip! After dinner, we drove to the ice cream shop down town, debating its hours and where to park. A young girl scooped our Butterfinger cones and gave me a cup of water after overhearing me talking about needing to take a pill. she complimented the purse Kate bought me in New Zealand, prompting me to make awkward conversation.

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It’s Winter Break.  The problem here is that I’m no longer in college, so I should no longer be celebrating with bar trips and catching up with old friends.  I’m doing just that, though, out of a desperate desire to become a more social creature after an approximate year of hibernation.  Nevermind that I’m incredibly depressed that I will be having drinks with a friend who has relocated to NYC and will only be reminded that I am stuck here.  I do want to chat with her, but I also want to lock her in a closet and assume her life in the city.  She’s thin and half Chinese, though, so I’m guessing that wouldn’t work too well.

The real inspiration for this post is not to talk about impending hang-outs, but one that has already taken place.  A little background for you?  From sixth grade through high school I adored this boy (we shall call him R).  I never dated R, and with the exception of one drunken make out session, nothing productive came out of my nearly-a-decade-long crush.  He graduated high school with me in 2003 and bounced around to several colleges before he found one that “stuck.”  He’s slated to graduate in 2010.  We haven’t been tight since we went to Bonnaroo–a group trip where I was Susie Sober and spoiled everyone’s fun by being slightly annoyed at the rampant drug use among the 80,000 people who were not nearly as dedicated to Radiohead as me.  So anyway, R is home from Utah State right now, and I wanted to “catch up.”

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