Home at LAST

Well, I'm home, out of the atrocious humidity of the East Coast, and mostly alive. However, I am becoming my mother. Yes, the genetic kiss of death strikes again!

I would hear myself saying things that were funny to me but clearly unfunny to EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ROOM... and then I would slap my own cheek (lightly) while they stared in confusion.

Actually, all in all, it was a lovely trip. I got to see friends I hadn't seen in three or four years as we made our whirlwind trip through New England - slept in a different bed the first five night of the trip - NJ at Jay's Dad's, NJ at Jay's Grandmother's, MA at Kev and Leann's, NH at a little B&B, and VT at Molly's (my college roomie's) family's camp for people with special needs. Just so you know, every single one of the Down's Syndrome camper can throw a frisbee more accurately than I can. I have what is politely referred to as a "trick" throw. Meaning that the trick is to guess where it's going to land...

Spent four nights at the family cabin in the Adirondacks... spent most of the time scratching at the mosquito and black fly bites. Grrrr. So, instead of being pasty white, I am now tan with red spots. Yes, I'm sexy.

Thankfully, everyone in Jay's immediate family is perfectly reasonable, if a little obsessed with organic foods... it's just some of the hangers-on who are scary. Scary, in this case, meaning too into exploring spirituality and wanting to talk about it all the time and taking themselves just a wee bit too seriously. In other words, they didn't think I was funny. Pshaw.

Anyway, I'm wiped from the flight and the traveling. I just want to shower the grime away and put some food in my belly and pass out. However - a few teasers about the party - which was fricking HILARIOUS:

New Jersey Italians - including an actual Cousin Vinny, bad wine, watery beer, a seventy year old line dancing instructor, a periwinkle blue tuxedo, and a performance from the Wedding Singer's competition.