Road Trip Entry #2: Boston

You cling to the seat in front of you as the worst flight you've ever been on lands. Now that the menace journey that's comparable to the Texas Giant is over, you overhear natives speaking about "the T". The wind blows your hair askew and cold rain stings your retinas. It's no Texas thunderstorm, so you're set, but the rest of the town isn't. Rain water floods the highway so the airport shuttle takes twice as long to find you a rental car. You drive around aimlessly for an hour, trying to find your hotel. Nothing is on TV. The wi-fi doesn't work. You go to sleep.
The next morning, the alarm clock sounds. You get up. The GPS becomes your best friend as you scramble back into your car. Major intersections and roads are closed and you're already late to your meeting. Your possible future is minutes away, but your so-called best friend won't give you correct directions to the college campus. The rain lightens as you pull up to the Undergrad Admissions Reception Center. Up and down both sides of the street are quaint brownstone-style dormitories.
It's then that that classic feeling all your older college friends speak about happens. You begin to remember all those times you "wanted to get away" but couldn't afford Southwest. Closing your eyes, you were able to escape any overwhelming stress or emotional trauma. Autumn would fill your mind; trees had leaves in the summer but didn't in the winter. There were seasons. But most of all, you would see a fresh slate. Reminiscing, you close your eyes, still standing like an idiot on the slippery marble stairs. You remember where you are and your eyes snap open. When you open your eyes, that image that has brought you so much peace is still there. It's tangible; it's real.
The college information session draws to a close and you've fallen even further in love than you were when you were standing numbly on the front steps. Your tour guides show you the rest of the campus. The group you're with complains about the cold and the rain and how they can't seem to make their umbrellas stay in their original formations. Unlike them, you're satisfied; you're in love. You haven't met the love of your life, no, but you have looked into your future. You know this is where you're meant to be.
This is Boston Unversity.

H

Road Trip Entry #1: Tennessee, Arkansas

You speed down the backroads faster than you ever would on the highway. It's a two lane road. A rusty road sign stands lazily to the right, telling you to take the upcoming curve at least 30 mph slower than you're driving. As always, the left lane is empty as it has been for about an hour, so you swerve over and drive down the middle. You rev the engine and smile as the 8-cylinder Ford pickup hums beneath your foot. There's no point in carrying a license around; no one is out to get you. Static from the poor radio reception fills the cab. Feeling a little like Fonzie, you smack the dashboard and, depending on the day, the radio either fixes itself or turns all the way off. The next curve nears and you start back towards the center of the lanes until you hear the rumbling of a '67 Chevy. You pass the driver, an adorable, young, blond kid in a plaid shirt, and exchange an embarrassed smirk. The accelerator scrapes the floor; the speed increases.

Horses gallop across fields whose fences couldn't stop them. The wild beasts, muscles tensing and pulsing, run in circles just to feel the breeze. Cows chew cud. Cell phones don't get reception. Internet is available only by a modem. But it's beautiful here. When it rains, the grass is so green that Ireland is put to shame. You might think it's impossible, but, at night, it's pitch black and, yet, so bright. The moon and the stars glisten in the pure, smog-free sky. Prudent, unabridged, natural beauty.

This is the country.

H

I Love Movies Too!

This is inspired by Olivier. His blog is one of my Not So Weakest Links.

Plot Twist Movies:
Everything is Illuminated
The Maltese Falcon
Sixth Sense
Signs

Holy Cows of Heaven! Movies: (Did that seriously just happen? or What in the world just happened?!)
Shutter Island
Memento
Science of Sleep
Donnie Darko
Sick House

Kick Rear Movies:
The Godfather
Public Enemies
The Dark Knight
Elf
Forest Gump

Movies That Leave You (Me, mostly) Speechless:
Into the Wild
200 Days of Summer
Schindler's List
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Why-did-they-make-this? Movies:
Material Girl
The Sting
Boogeyman 2
All The Sandlot's after the first one
Carrie (sorry. i just didn't like it.)

Not-so-classy Movies That I Love:
Phantom of the Opera
Mamma Mia
Spiderman 3
Clue
Airplane

Best Classic Movies:
Strangers on a Train
Singing in the Rain
The Music Man
Casablanca
West Side Story


Later Days
Peace
H

Things that make me go, "Really?!"

Far Right-Winged or Far Left-Winged People. No, I don't mean politicians; I mean people. Politicians are paid to be extremely biased. They are paid to be overly obnoxious, trying to force their beliefs upon everyone. Citizens, on the other hand, are not. I understand debates. I'm all for everyone having his or her own personal opinion on anything and everything. But, Really?! How can you honestly complain about a member or leader of the opposite political party when you're being as close-minded as they are? What is getting accomplished when people are too busy calling the president a socialist? What is getting accomplished when others are just relishing in the fact that our country is no longer under the control of George Bush? Nowhere.

Stereotypes. Not all blondes are dumb. Not all Asian people own donut shops or are superb in math and science. There are white cabbies too! They aren't all from the Middle East! I mean, Really?! Way to be judgmental of people you've never met before. Not all Emo people cut themselves. It's a genre of music. It's a style. Actually, the music and clothes were called emo before they were associated with negative ways of expressing emotion.

Lady Gaga. She has an AMAZING voice. Absolutely fabulous. But her outfits, Really?! That metal, 3-tiered hula hoop thing she wore on SNL? What was the point of that? It really distracts from the quality of the voice that is singing. I seriously just don't understand it.

Cheap off-brands that say "Compare with the leading brand", but you know the leading brand, though more expensive, is better. Really?! Why try? 'Nuff said.

Warnings on microwavable foods. Really?! "Food will be hot." No shiz, Sherlock.

Warnings on cribs, "Do not leave child unattended." Really?! Why not just write, "Parents with less sleep keep the economy going. They buy Monsters, Red Bulls, and lots of alcohol. Thus, you should stay up watching your kid while he/she sleeps instead of getting the 3 hours of sleep you normally get! Yay!" But that's too long, so they just stick with "Do not leave child unattended."

The Youtube video "Leprechaun in Alabama." I demand that you go see it now, otherwise the reason as to why it makes me question why some humans exist will not make sense. Really, Crichton, Alabama?! A leprechaun in a tree that only comes out at night and that disappears into the night when you shine a light on it? Let's be reasonable. Or borderline sane. Something. Please.

And this concluded this week's edition of "Really?! With Hayleigh Elmo".

Later Days.

Peace.

H

Quote of the day: "Arkansas: where being pregnant doesn't stop you from getting pregnant". --Seth Myers of Weekend Update

A Tribute to September 17, 2009.

I woke up almost an hour after the first sounding of my alarm, as usual. What I wore is inevitable, how I did my hair is unimportant. I do remember that I actually put makeup on, which is a once-or-twice a week occurrence nowadays. It was minimal, mascara only, but I remember it.
That day was the first day anyone at school had ever seen me cry. I know for a fact that none of my best friends ever had. I had always told Chandler she would never see me cry, that it was just something I never do and would never admit to doing. She told me that she would do everything within her power to make sure that I cry at graduation. Deep down, I knew she wouldn't have to do anything, but she didn't and I was planning on keeping it that way.
That was also the day Baby Beatrice was born.
Like I said, everything about that day, except for my random makeup usage, was normal. Yearbook was uneventful, just working on eDesign, not really getting anything done. History consisted of talking about the French and Indian War with no one truly paying attention. English, however, was different. Angela wasn't there.
"Dope! Where's Mang?" I whispered to Hope after 10 minutes had passed.
"I dunno! Is she sick?" She whispered back.
"She's never sick!"
"Crap. You're right; this is weird."
"Maybe you should text her." Hope did and we began to half pay attention to whatever Mrs. Wadhwania was talking about. I guess I didn't give it much though, Angela being gone. A calculus makeup test, I figured. Mrs. Radja, the crazy physics teacher, got too excited about velocity and didn't notice the time. She was okay and I knew it.

"Hayes. Hayles...Ang's mom had the baby!" Hope nudged me, looking up from her phone. Of course! Why didn't I think of that? The baby was due the next day and the Andrews' are famous for inducing their newborns. This is baby number 10! Andrews world domination, as I've heard it said. But, as usual, the gender of the baby was kept a secret until the birth.

"Boy or Girl!?" We both messaged her.

Several minutes later,
"It's...complicated. Read my blog. Don't worry, it's not a hermaphrodite."

It's...complicated? Complicated, how? I knew Hope had the same thoughts when she opened up her inbox to find the same text in response. Being in a class where the teacher only allows three minutes for potty breaks, there wasn't anything we could do for nearly twenty minutes. Thankfully, Mrs. Wadhwania decided to cut short her lecture on "The effects of the opening scene" in reference to Kafta's "The Metamorphosis" short. Hope excused herself to the "bathroom", but I could hear her running down the hall in the opposite direction, looking for an open computer. 5 minutes passed, then 10. Then 20. Hope still hadn't returned and it was time for passing period. I gathered all her books, told our french teacher, "Il faut que je trouve Hope, " and wandered off in search for her.
There she was, sitting in the middle of the polo field, by herself. Just sitting. She's hard to miss, with that bright yellow, bleached blonde hair of hers. I remember yelling her name and having her turn around to stare a me for a few seconds, neither of us really moving. Paranoid as always, I was almost certain the baby had died, that Mrs. Andrews had died, something. Then Hope started running towards me and I attempted to do the same. I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked, her backpack on my back, my own satchel across my right side, waddling like a penguin. I got up to her; she looked like such a mess: nose runny, eyes bloodshot, eyeliner running and fading. Something you never want to see in a best friend. I could hear it in my head, "The baby, the baby's gone, Hayleigh."
"The baby..." Hope starts, genuinely trying to be strong, "it's a girl... but." It wasn't working. "She's a down-syndrome babbbbby," she trailed off, blubbering other nonsense. I stuck my arms out to hug her. All I could muster was a "Wow..." and a confused face. I mean, it's surprising, yes, but down-syndrome isn't a curse upon a family. I've recently learned that. It's just a test of faith. The Andrews family is the family best equipped in the world to handle anything creative God wanted to throw at them. Both Hope and I knew that deep down.
French was nearly unbearable, Hope silent and sniffling, me pensive and passive. Afterwards, we drug ourselves down the halls toward the lunch room, halfway briefing Maggie on what was going on. None of us were too concentrated on eating.
But I had to read the blog.
Login: check. Internet connection: check. No proxy needed to get to Angela's blog: surprising check.
"The Day you were Born" she had titled it, a letter to Beatrice.
I had never read anything so beautifully written. I had never read anything that made my heart hurt but yearn for the love that Angela felt about someone she had only met once. Pretty soon, tears streamed down my face, no matter how much I wish they hadn't.
Maggie, however, couldn't get a usable proxy to function. So, I logged in for her. I watched her read it. I watched the tears well up in her eyes, roll down her seemingly eternally-giggly face. I remember Hope walking up behind us, rereading the entry over Mags' shoulder.
I guess you realize who your true friends are at moments like that. You realize that you would do anything to make them stop crying because it hurts your soul to see them in pain. Chandler saw me crying that day. I told her she never would. I shouldn't use the word never. She didn't know what to do; she was almost afraid to touch me.
Nonetheless, I congratulate the Andrews family. Here's to Beatrice. Here's to best friends. Here's to Angela, the strongest 16 year old I know.

Later Days
Peace
H

Angela's Blog:

• http://goodheavensgwendolyn.wordpress.com
  

You know You were Meant to be a _____ when...

Vegetarian:

• You get excited when someone mentions that veggie kabobs will be served at a barbeque.
• You go to a school dance and the only thing stopping you from dancing with the cutie you've had your eye on is the fact that they smell like beef from their pre-dance dinner at Benihana's.
• That one episode of the Simpson's where they tell the kids what hot dogs are made of grosses you out.
• You adore PeiWei because you can get ANYTHING on the menu with tofu and vegetables instead of meat.
• It takes you more than a minute to chew a piece of steak, no matter how well or rare it's done.
• You get offended when people say that southerners are 'meat and potatoes people'.

Crazy cat lady:

• Even the cats that people say are "the mean ones" like you.
• You have names for future cats picked out in your head. (here's mine: Clawed Monet...)
• You talk to cats like they're people and don't use that obnoxious "Who's-a-good-kitty-You're-a-good-kitty" voice.
• Your friends already have your life planned out for you: marriage numero uno, divorce numero uno, 5 cats with one night stands optional.
• You knit for fun.
• You're tempted to hide other people's cats in your purse/murse so you can take it home with you.

Hippie:

• The background on your phone is from a Paul McCartney concert during the song "Give Peace a Chance", thus enabling you to see a bunch of random hands in the air and a giant glowing peace sign onstage.
• You turn out lights at restaurants, hospitals and school buildings when no one is a in a room so you can save the environment.
• You agree that the second day of Woodstock was the best of the 3 days. (Jefferson Airplane, Janis Joplin, Santana, The Who all together?! come on, it must have been amazing.)
• You know that Woodstock was technically four days long because Jimi Hendrix didn't go onstage until midnight on the 3rd day.
• You think that the best Beatles songs were when they were all on pot, LSD, acid and who knows what else.
• Leo is your favorite character on That 70's Show because he sings 'Day by Day' in one of the episodes.
• You're a Godspell fan. :)

Just for grins.

Later Days
Peace
H