My Vacation, and What I Did on It.
Aug. 11th, 2008 11:15 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cygna_himeTraveling up was easy enough, if made somewhat stressful by the fact that I am (in my opinion of course) the most efficient packer in the family, and everyone else tends to flail about and take unnecessary amounts of time. Still, we got on the appropriate train, got off at the appropriate time, and got on the high-speed ferry.
Ferry was awesome. (Except for the part where I tried doing a sudoku in the cabin and had to go up top before I was sick.) Once I was up there, though...wow, it's fast. So fast that the spray kicked up caused a rainbow running alongside us, so clear that I could pick out all seven colors. The wind was strong enough for my sister to lean dangerously far forward on.
Block Island is mostly as it has been. It's beautiful, the ocean is as wet, cold, and full of seaweed as ever, and most of the things and places I've grown to love in nineteen years of one-week vacations are still the same.
That only makes the things that aren't more obvious. The Gothic Inn was nice, even if the suite was a bit small for five, but...it wasn't the Surf. I didn't know anyone there. There was no back porch where I could sit and watch the ocean. I had to think about where things were. It wasn't a place I belonged.
The Surf is on the corner, where I walked past it at least half a dozen times a day. The porch is roped off, as is the stairway to the beach on the other side, the ocean side, but the curtains are still in the windows, white lace waving gently. I got a glimpse between the curtains; even the furniture is still there. After dark someone lights the lamp in the cupola. It looks exactly as always, except empty. Painfully, echoingly empty. I almost wish it were no longer there at all. Maybe then I could stop wanting it back so much.
Still, it was fun. It doesn't seem like a whole week.
In writing matters, I finished a spork and started a new one, got an idea for a supernatural mystery short story and wrote a little bit of that, tried to work on another story on paper but gave up when the characters just sat there and did some sketching instead, and batted around some more nebulous ideas and plans.
I had a fair number of dreams featuring missing class and other school-related stress. Complex metaphorical analysis not needed.
I also read a few new books, which is always nice. The library is my bestest friend.
My sister was stung by a sea nettle on the face, which I suppose is what we deserve for body-surfing when we knew there were jellyfish. It's hard to steer when a giant wave is bouncing you about. We did, however, go to another beach which had better waves and no jellyfish, and had a grand old time, although I got somewhat banged about by waves. This is what happens when you are good at bodysurfing: you get shoved along the sand a lot.
Amtrak is evil and messed up our reservations, so we got home significantly later and (in my case) more horribly cramped than planned, only to discover that my father has apparently been spoiled by marriage to the point where there was no food in the house. Bread? Moldy. Milk? Spoiled. Did he think to get more of either? No. Even the peaches were rotten. Also no hot water.
A good night's sleep took care of the problem where all my leg muscles hated me, but I did considerably more cleaning than should have been necessary. I'm not very fond of my father right at this moment.
Part of me is thinking, "I can't wait to get home," meaning college. Despite all the things I'm panicking about, I really want to be somewhere I don't have to clean up after other people right now.
So that was my week, more or less. How're the rest of you? Not dead in my absence?
Ferry was awesome. (Except for the part where I tried doing a sudoku in the cabin and had to go up top before I was sick.) Once I was up there, though...wow, it's fast. So fast that the spray kicked up caused a rainbow running alongside us, so clear that I could pick out all seven colors. The wind was strong enough for my sister to lean dangerously far forward on.
Block Island is mostly as it has been. It's beautiful, the ocean is as wet, cold, and full of seaweed as ever, and most of the things and places I've grown to love in nineteen years of one-week vacations are still the same.
That only makes the things that aren't more obvious. The Gothic Inn was nice, even if the suite was a bit small for five, but...it wasn't the Surf. I didn't know anyone there. There was no back porch where I could sit and watch the ocean. I had to think about where things were. It wasn't a place I belonged.
The Surf is on the corner, where I walked past it at least half a dozen times a day. The porch is roped off, as is the stairway to the beach on the other side, the ocean side, but the curtains are still in the windows, white lace waving gently. I got a glimpse between the curtains; even the furniture is still there. After dark someone lights the lamp in the cupola. It looks exactly as always, except empty. Painfully, echoingly empty. I almost wish it were no longer there at all. Maybe then I could stop wanting it back so much.
Still, it was fun. It doesn't seem like a whole week.
In writing matters, I finished a spork and started a new one, got an idea for a supernatural mystery short story and wrote a little bit of that, tried to work on another story on paper but gave up when the characters just sat there and did some sketching instead, and batted around some more nebulous ideas and plans.
I had a fair number of dreams featuring missing class and other school-related stress. Complex metaphorical analysis not needed.
I also read a few new books, which is always nice. The library is my bestest friend.
My sister was stung by a sea nettle on the face, which I suppose is what we deserve for body-surfing when we knew there were jellyfish. It's hard to steer when a giant wave is bouncing you about. We did, however, go to another beach which had better waves and no jellyfish, and had a grand old time, although I got somewhat banged about by waves. This is what happens when you are good at bodysurfing: you get shoved along the sand a lot.
Amtrak is evil and messed up our reservations, so we got home significantly later and (in my case) more horribly cramped than planned, only to discover that my father has apparently been spoiled by marriage to the point where there was no food in the house. Bread? Moldy. Milk? Spoiled. Did he think to get more of either? No. Even the peaches were rotten. Also no hot water.
A good night's sleep took care of the problem where all my leg muscles hated me, but I did considerably more cleaning than should have been necessary. I'm not very fond of my father right at this moment.
Part of me is thinking, "I can't wait to get home," meaning college. Despite all the things I'm panicking about, I really want to be somewhere I don't have to clean up after other people right now.
So that was my week, more or less. How're the rest of you? Not dead in my absence?
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-12 01:40 am (UTC)Shit. /wrists
That's where we were going to go until plans fell apart. XD Same week and all.
How was the weather?
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-12 07:18 am (UTC)Block Island, Rhode Island?
Very cool. I wasn't going to go there this week (XD) but we used to go there when I was younger. I mainly remember being enthralled by the waves, seeing as they were proper big waves and not the tiny things we got near the Long Island Sound; surroundings et al. are pretty much gone because I was too young. :(
I know what the "I want to go home - wait, home?" feeling is like - I tend to refer to my parent's house in Germany and my flat (well, when I had one) in Scotland interchangeably as my home, and say "I'm looking forward to going home" in /both/ places. That said, I think it's shifting towards Britain. I guess this is what you call growing up. :/
Also, I hate to tell you this but your dad was being an idiot. How hard is it to buy milk?
As for me, I have been recovering from Alps - it was fun, but I need a bit of time to regather myself always. :/ I may also be falling into Kyou Kara Maou fandom again, HELP. NO. I WANT TO STAY IN KH PLEEAASE. We must chat on AIM and meta a lot later on. ;_;
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-14 04:17 am (UTC)Sounds fun, apart from the pain bits and the no food bits...I'm jealous that you got to go to a beach outside of "Joizey"!!