I did have some grand plans of blogging while I was away, but to be honest, the trip was so stressful in itself, the thought of doing anything beyond a minimum amount of work and sleep seemed daunting to say the least.
Yes, I need a vacation from my vacation.
1.) Insane graduation drama
2.) Non stop rain
3.) An inability to feed my child because we were beholden to others' schedules
4.) Hours and hours and hours (and hours) in the car
5.) Much news from people we feel dubiously about at best
6.) Hating the state in which I was born (land of strip malls, giant touchdown Jesus statues, fast food, obesity and insecurity) more than I ever dreamed possible
I am sorry to be cagey, but I cannot get too far into the details (email me if you want more info). Suffice it to say that any trip to my once-homeland feels more like a jaunt through Abu Ghraib than a vacation.
Although I know I have a few readers who may be offended by my Ohio-bashing, I say this to thee: I lived there half my life. My family is six generation Ohioans. I know Ohio. And while I adore my family and few friends I still have there, trips back there are full of a past that was painful for both me and R and a present that is often disturbing, rife with insane people and difficult personalities.
After 40+ hours of driving through this (mostly) red state, I think it is safe to say that R and I have discussed all the finer points of growing up in such a place. We depressed ourselves thoroughly and kissed the ground in Massachusetts when we crossed the border yesterday.
On the upside, seeing my grandmother and Great Aunt was wonderful and the baby behaved herself. And it is a good thing. Had she been less agreeable, I may have had to stop and have my own emotional flat tire 20 hours into our journey. What can I say? I still hate my neighbors, the IRS, the fact that I have no backyard and the looming spectre of work on Monday, but being home has never felt so good.