An album to die to.
American thanksgiving...
Who'd have known it was such a life threatening holiday, and that one may have more to be thankful for by its end? It started out purely innocent; gorging ourselves with delicious food, shopping, singing, dancing, checkers, and 21 for a night at Hooky Jacks. Then at the joyful weekends close we had mocked Tara's grandparents for driving home a day early for fear of a blizzard. Blizzard? Ha! The sun is shining! Its georgeous out! Then the snow hit, then the slush hit, then it all froze, and then we were far too scared to brave the road ahead.
We stopped in Miller at the tiniest Super 8 I've seen in my life, 20 rooms maybe? Not even a vending machine. We enjoyed a few hours of frivilous bed jumping, TV watching, and nibbling on leftover Qudoba, even discussing braving the sleet and ice to fetch Dairy Queen from across the highway. If only we had because shortly after the power went out. We were thrust into darkness, the wind pounding against paper thin windows and walls.
We huddled up in bed, falling into a worried sleep but soon, to our enthusiasm, we were woken up in the middle of the night by our lights turning on! Oh glorious electricity! I will never take you for granted again! A shame we didn't rush to turn the heater on and plug in Tara's cell phone as quickly as we rushed to turn off all the lights. When we woke early the next morning in hopes of getting an early start home, the bathroom light was no longer on how we left it. What was worse was the deafening howl of the wind and the blinding, never ending, white out the window. There was no going anywhere and the room, by 7am was already getting cold.
Heading down to the complimentary continental breakfast in hopes of nourishment, we were greeted by a room of hunters, stale english muffins, soggy ego waffles, and the lack of a working toaster or hot coffee. The orange juice was refreshing but all i really wanted was a banana. We carefully rationed my bag of salt water taffy and stomached cold soggy egos and jam for lunch. I sat by the window for awhile trying to read Douglas Coupland's, "Life After God" without opening the curtain all the way, and destroy what was left of our precious warmth. The cold didn't take long to take hold, though, and I was forced to curl up in bed, coat and all, and play 21 questions and I Spy. What a waste of a snow day!
The wind didn't pause for even a second all day. I'm ever so thankful that the power came through around 4 or 5. If it hadn't I might have been an icecube by the time we made it out of Miller. When the power came on, the kind hearted hotel owners offered to cook macaroni and cheese for us. The goodness of human kind has been proven once again. If you ever stumble upon Miller, South Dakota, stop at the Super 8 and meet the owners, each with a heart of gold. If it weren't for them me and Tara may have eaten the little baby down the hall, or one of the hunters dogs... or each other.
The next morning after struggling to scrape the thick layer of ice of the windshield, we made a safe ride home in only about double the time it should have taken. Tara is the most excellent driver I have ever had the pleasure of riding with. What's more then that, if I had been stuck in that tiny, cold room with anyone else, I would have been at my wits end before I had even fallen asleep. Tara's company was what kept me sane. She made me laugh even when I wanted to cry of boredom, and distracted my hunger by calling me homeless. There is nobody I would rather have been stuck in the middle of nowhere with.
A toast to the joy of friendship, being back in Aberdeen, and being alive!
In the sleet and ice before reaching Miller an album was playing on our CD player that I decided I would gladly have playing as we rolled into the ditch and were burried in snow forever. I'm sure you can guess it. Everyone loves it and if you don't then pull it out and take another listen. Wilco's "A Ghost is Born." Its tragic, empowering, and full of revelations, all in one. An album I would like to die to. Is that morbid?
Its snowing and now that I don't have to drive anymore, I am hoplessly glad. Tender snowflakes have been falling all day and left me smiling. Just 7 more days of class, then exam week, then HOME!
Push to the end,
Julha
Who'd have known it was such a life threatening holiday, and that one may have more to be thankful for by its end? It started out purely innocent; gorging ourselves with delicious food, shopping, singing, dancing, checkers, and 21 for a night at Hooky Jacks. Then at the joyful weekends close we had mocked Tara's grandparents for driving home a day early for fear of a blizzard. Blizzard? Ha! The sun is shining! Its georgeous out! Then the snow hit, then the slush hit, then it all froze, and then we were far too scared to brave the road ahead.
We stopped in Miller at the tiniest Super 8 I've seen in my life, 20 rooms maybe? Not even a vending machine. We enjoyed a few hours of frivilous bed jumping, TV watching, and nibbling on leftover Qudoba, even discussing braving the sleet and ice to fetch Dairy Queen from across the highway. If only we had because shortly after the power went out. We were thrust into darkness, the wind pounding against paper thin windows and walls.
We huddled up in bed, falling into a worried sleep but soon, to our enthusiasm, we were woken up in the middle of the night by our lights turning on! Oh glorious electricity! I will never take you for granted again! A shame we didn't rush to turn the heater on and plug in Tara's cell phone as quickly as we rushed to turn off all the lights. When we woke early the next morning in hopes of getting an early start home, the bathroom light was no longer on how we left it. What was worse was the deafening howl of the wind and the blinding, never ending, white out the window. There was no going anywhere and the room, by 7am was already getting cold.
Heading down to the complimentary continental breakfast in hopes of nourishment, we were greeted by a room of hunters, stale english muffins, soggy ego waffles, and the lack of a working toaster or hot coffee. The orange juice was refreshing but all i really wanted was a banana. We carefully rationed my bag of salt water taffy and stomached cold soggy egos and jam for lunch. I sat by the window for awhile trying to read Douglas Coupland's, "Life After God" without opening the curtain all the way, and destroy what was left of our precious warmth. The cold didn't take long to take hold, though, and I was forced to curl up in bed, coat and all, and play 21 questions and I Spy. What a waste of a snow day!
The wind didn't pause for even a second all day. I'm ever so thankful that the power came through around 4 or 5. If it hadn't I might have been an icecube by the time we made it out of Miller. When the power came on, the kind hearted hotel owners offered to cook macaroni and cheese for us. The goodness of human kind has been proven once again. If you ever stumble upon Miller, South Dakota, stop at the Super 8 and meet the owners, each with a heart of gold. If it weren't for them me and Tara may have eaten the little baby down the hall, or one of the hunters dogs... or each other.
The next morning after struggling to scrape the thick layer of ice of the windshield, we made a safe ride home in only about double the time it should have taken. Tara is the most excellent driver I have ever had the pleasure of riding with. What's more then that, if I had been stuck in that tiny, cold room with anyone else, I would have been at my wits end before I had even fallen asleep. Tara's company was what kept me sane. She made me laugh even when I wanted to cry of boredom, and distracted my hunger by calling me homeless. There is nobody I would rather have been stuck in the middle of nowhere with.
A toast to the joy of friendship, being back in Aberdeen, and being alive!
In the sleet and ice before reaching Miller an album was playing on our CD player that I decided I would gladly have playing as we rolled into the ditch and were burried in snow forever. I'm sure you can guess it. Everyone loves it and if you don't then pull it out and take another listen. Wilco's "A Ghost is Born." Its tragic, empowering, and full of revelations, all in one. An album I would like to die to. Is that morbid?
Its snowing and now that I don't have to drive anymore, I am hoplessly glad. Tender snowflakes have been falling all day and left me smiling. Just 7 more days of class, then exam week, then HOME!
Push to the end,
Julha
posted by Julia Wakal at 5:28 PM
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