Pink Is My New Obsession

I love Aerosmith.
After I put on Just Push Play and Draw The Line and Get Your Wings and rocked for a good three, four hours. They're loud they're proud, get down or don't. I love em.
I had an interesting chat with an IM buddy the other night. Homegirl had me in stitches with this story she wsa telling me. One of her friends conned her into running a 10K race in the middle of a freezing rainstorm. She agreed and let's just say I'm dying for the pictures. Anyway, we got to talking about our familes and she got me to talking about mine. (Stay tuned for the post about my trip to Florida) Here you go Mo, this is the disaster that my parents like to call "Our Trip To Canada."
It was 3:30 when my mami woke me up. We had to be at the designated pick up stop at 5:00. slated to leave at 5:30. Yeah, like that was going to happen. Ya'll know the myth that black folks can't never get nowhere on time? It was proved that morning. We were going on the trip with a group of friends. The person that actually coordinated the trip was twenty minutes late. Had it been up to me, he'd be walking.
When we finally got everybody ready, took a head count, prayed to the Good Lord that we wouldn't crash and burn and got the show on the road, it was 6:04. This was shortly after 9/11, that November to be exact. So as we are driving toward the George Washington Bridge, the remnants of the Manhattan Skyline (or what was left of it at that point) came into view. It was very creepy seeing that, just a big gaping hole where they pride of New York used to be. Anyway, we get over the bridge, everyone is pretty much asleep because it is after all six in the morning.
About ten or twenty miles in, somewhere in the middle of I-80, someone (I am not going to name names simply because this person is much larger than me) gets hungry and begins to complain. Stop number one. So we have to do a search of the surrounding area and find a rest stop. Said person drags her prodigous girth off the bus and proceeds to spend the next hour in Roy Rogers. She gets back on, refreshed and fatter than ever, and we get back on the road.
Another hour or so in, one of the guys gets up to use the bathroom in the back. I was listening to a Mary J Blige album (My Life I think it was) nodding my head to the beats when the door swings open and he goes back to his seat. Now, you know how the cool people always sit in the back? Same concept here. Me my brother and his peoples were holding down the back of the bus hard. But as soon as that door opened, we found ourselves scrambling to the front like we had jsut gotten word the niggers could finally get seats with the white folk. It was an all out stampede. Yes, homie did go in there and blow that bathroom up. We make another stop for mulitple cans of airspray and some matches. When we were able to get the air down from toxic to breathable and the HazMat team that had been following us pulled away, we returned to out normal seats.
Little did we know that old boy had blown up the bathroom so badly that the toilet was actually broken.
I went to sleep because the farther you get out of Manhattan the less there is to see. I swear on everything I love, if I had never seen another tree after that trip it would have been too soon. Bored out of my mind I tell you. After twisting and turning and trying to get comfortable, I found a spot. Just when I began to doze off again, the drive hit a bump that threw my sleeping ass and everyone else on the bus into considerable disarray.
"Sorry about that folks, we're about to hit a bumpy patch in the road, If you have liquids, please try to cover them up."
He said that just as he passed over a bumpy patch in the road, and the entire thermos of hot chocolate I was holding popped open into my lap. We stopped again to buy me some pants. Once back on the road, I hudled in the corner, pissed that I had lost my chocolate and added more travel time to a trip that had started off on the wrong foot.
I was awoken to have my passport shoved in my hands. The Border Patrol was smiling down on me.
"Good mornign ma'am. Are you sure that you are not carrying any contraband or illegal subastances into the country?"
As I had just woke up, I gave him the evil eye, but shook my head and handed over my passport. He checked it briefly and smiled.
"Welcome to Canada."
It was about f*cking time. I looked down at my watch and noticed the time. It was night again. How many stops had we made? My brother looked over. About five, he said. Why? What happened? Troy (name has been changed) blew out the bathroom. The odor hadn't hit me until he said that. So we got to the hotel and everyone went to bed, ready for a day of exploring.
Next day turned out to be wonderful. We toured Onatario in the freezing cold (I was in heaven, as you know I don't do summer) and found that New Yorkers were practically celebrities up there. I didn't know I had an accent until I went there. People kept saying "I love you accent!" I'm like what accent? My mother and I got lost in this novelty store where I wandered around for days looking at his quaint little figurines while the store owner pikced my mothers brain about how it was to live in New York after 9/11. His eyes were all glassy, he looked like a kid in a candy shop. Afterwards, he gave her three stuffed animal to give to my baby brothers and gave me the cutest little (I can't remember for the life of me what it was or where I left it)
We also visited the Falls. That was the highlight of the trip. We got on this little boat called the Maid of the Mist that takes you right up to the Falls. He said "Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Niagara Falls" and the next thing I knew, my perm was kicking rocks. I wanted to jump over the corwd and kill him right then and there. I spent the rest of the night brushing my hair into submission.
We returned to the hotel after ceaseless hours of sightseeing (Sidebar: if you ever have the chance to go to Canada, please do. It is a wonderful experience and I rarely gush about anything so if I liked it, you'lll love it) My parents had gotten us to behave with promises that we would go see them light up the Falls later that evening. They had other plans. They took the room keys, ordered pizza and a movie and went out for a lover's stroll. We were sitting there stuck on stupid, waiting for them to come back. When they didn't return after midnight had passed, I sort of got the feeling that there would be no light show tonight. I took my annoyed, frizzy disappointed behind on to bed.
The next day, I experienced an unknown phenomenon. Everyone went out for some last minute shopping and then to catch a bite to eat before we had to leave. We opted to go to Burger King. Then, something happened to me that has never happened before. I took a bite into my burger and tasted, very distinctly I might add, mustard. Now, call me what you will but I have never responded well to flavors in places where they do not belong. I have not ever tasted mustard on a hamburger and I was not looking forward to doing so again. After I scrpaed what I could off the sandwich and tried to eat around the taste, I realized that I could still taste it. And it was not pleasant. I put it down and played with the cold French fries, waiting for everyone else to finish so we could get the hell out of there and get some real food.
I must say, that had to be the most uneventful "vacation" I have ever taken. Beautiful place that Canada, but if you're a kid that had no say in the planning of the itinerary it could get pretty boring. I mean yawn.
One of these days, I'm going to go on a good vacation. I'm going to have the time of my life and when I do, I will be able to revisit the places I went to without them sucking. And boy when I do...*sigh*