Rheinbeck
This weekend was so hellish that whatever horrible stress I went through earlier this week, that I had devised a whole post about, is completely gone from my memory. Vanished. Gone. Essentially the problem was that I wanted to go to Rheinbeck (9 hours from Buffalo) with Katie, and we had planned on it like two months in advance, then my professor decided to require us to be at a NYSAFLT convention in Rochester (1.5 hrs from Buffalo) that same weekend. So I thought I could go to the one with Katie, then leave her place (4 hours from Buffalo) in the morning, attend the second half of the Sunday portion of the conference, and be home in time for work.
So, don't get me wrong. The sheep and wool festival was a lot of fun, and I got some gorgeous yarn. Katie's family was very nice to me, although we were all fairly socially awkward with one another. So Saturday was fine, it was Friday and Sunday that caused all the trouble.
Friday:
- the plan was for me to leave at 9 am, go to a seminar on campus, meet up with Katie afterwards around 12 and head to her hometown, about a 4 hour drive. The weather was sunny.
- About half an hour into the drive, it starts raining. About 2 hours into the drive, the truck ahead propels a rock at me, which strikes the windshield with enough force to make a 4" crack down the middle. After twenty minutes, the crack had almost doubled in size. I called my dad, who said I should either ignore it and keep going, or go to Ithaca and switch cars with him. Since the weather was getting worse and it was supposed to get pretty cold over the weekend, we decided to go to Ithaca (an hour out of the way in each direction) to switch cars with my dad.
- We switched everything relevant in the cars, except 1) my UB parking pass, 2) the phone numbers I call if I'm going to be late to work 3) my ipod and 4) my phone charger. We also did not bother with taking the kayak holders off of the roof of my dad's truck.
- Because I can't remember the way to get to the highway going east from Ithaca, we backtrack to the way going west but then go east, essentially losing yet another hour that we could have theoretically gained back.
- We got to Katie's house at around 8:30, so 8ish hours after we left. If you figure in minus the time we spent at rest stops, which is maybe an hour or so, it led to about 2 and a half extra hours of driving. Blargh.
Saturday night:
- it occurs to me that I'm not sure how to get to the Convention Center. Also, Katie had thought her house was 2 hours away from Rochester, but her family says it's closer to 3. Her house doesn't have terribly reliable/usable internet. It does have a fairly dated Mapquest program, which despite her grandfather's valiant efforts, did not seem inclined to be helpful.
- I call my brother, who checks Google Maps. Google Maps decides not to load the directions portion of the response, only the map. So he gives me directions based on that.
- I call my dad, who wants me to meet him halfway to switch cars back. I tell him I don't think I can do it in the morning because I'll be late for the conference. He says I can drive back after the conference (essentially 2 hours out of the way for each of us) instead.
Sunday morning:
- awake at 6. I am reminded that I do not do mornings well. Katie's mom (THANK GOD) leads me through the labyrinthine backroads until I get to the highway that will connect me to the Thruway. Severely tired.
- At 7 I get to the highway, and become violently ill. While driving. Because I don't do mornings. I remain severely tired.
- I stop at a travel plaza in search of gas, energy drinks, and sleep. I only find the first two. Incidents include not being able to get the gas cap off of my dad's truck and needing the attendant to do it for me. He pops it off and says I'd already opened it, just hadn't pulled back.
- at 8, by a miracle of God, I get to the Rochester exit and eventually to Rochester itself around 9:30. (For the record, it was 2.5 hours. If I hadn't been going not-too-fast because of not wanting to crash into people, I think 2 hours is not a craziness.)
- I realize my brother's directions are missing some vital portion, because I'm just following the inner loop around the city in circles. Eventually I take an exit that sounds promising, wind up on the right street, a gas station attendant puts me in the right direction, and I find the hotel where the conference is taking place.
- the kayak holders on my dad's truck prevent me from using the parking garage at the hotel.
- all of the parking garages in the vicinity are closed sunday mornings.
- after pulling into various lots and then being sketched out by the homeless people -- since all of my stuff is easily visible from the windows, including the trunk, and everyone always warns not to let any of your stuff be seen in Buffalo or Rochester -- I pull into a lot and ask the man who gets out of his car beside me if the lot charges for parking. "No," he says, as five children and a wife climb out of the car. "Not if you're going to Mass." I give him a wide-eyed look and say, "I'm not...." and he says he supposes it's fine anyway.
- I get to the conference, still afraid someone will break into my car. I call Dad who says I don't have to meet him in Geneva that day after all (thank you!)
- I attend the conference, and the lull brings back the tiredness hardcore. The topic is interesting but the woman reads off every word on every slide, as though a room full of teachers and teachers-in-training can't read for themselves. I dash out the door once it ends.
- I get promptly lost and call Jaqui, who sends me on a secret backway out of Rochester that saves me a lot of time.
So all in all.... I did everything I meant to and got back alive and well. Which is really all one can ask, I suppose.
Oh yeah, and Sunday night I was at Jaqui's and called Paul to ask for a ride home, expecting him to say no. But he said yes, and apparently left right away. But when I left the apartment I didn't see him, so I went to front of the complex to wait, hoping to save him time so that he will be happy to give me a ride home in the future. But apparently he was waiting in the back lot, didn't see me leave, then went and asked Jaqui, and they both freaked out, but neither of them called me. So then when they finally went by the entrance, and I was like "oh hey" they were like "KAREN WHERE WERE YOU WE WERE FREAKING OUT" Me: ...? So my plot failed and Paul will probably never give me a ride again.
Edited to add: I forgot to mention I met up with some of my family at Rheinbeck! My aunt Carol (loyal reader) and Uncle Bud, cousins Shannon and Jason, and their adorable daughters were all there. I didn't get to hang out with them as much as I would have liked, partly because we all kept losing each other in the crowds, but it was good to see them. Good luck with your spinning, guys!
So, don't get me wrong. The sheep and wool festival was a lot of fun, and I got some gorgeous yarn. Katie's family was very nice to me, although we were all fairly socially awkward with one another. So Saturday was fine, it was Friday and Sunday that caused all the trouble.
Friday:
- the plan was for me to leave at 9 am, go to a seminar on campus, meet up with Katie afterwards around 12 and head to her hometown, about a 4 hour drive. The weather was sunny.
- About half an hour into the drive, it starts raining. About 2 hours into the drive, the truck ahead propels a rock at me, which strikes the windshield with enough force to make a 4" crack down the middle. After twenty minutes, the crack had almost doubled in size. I called my dad, who said I should either ignore it and keep going, or go to Ithaca and switch cars with him. Since the weather was getting worse and it was supposed to get pretty cold over the weekend, we decided to go to Ithaca (an hour out of the way in each direction) to switch cars with my dad.
- We switched everything relevant in the cars, except 1) my UB parking pass, 2) the phone numbers I call if I'm going to be late to work 3) my ipod and 4) my phone charger. We also did not bother with taking the kayak holders off of the roof of my dad's truck.
- Because I can't remember the way to get to the highway going east from Ithaca, we backtrack to the way going west but then go east, essentially losing yet another hour that we could have theoretically gained back.
- We got to Katie's house at around 8:30, so 8ish hours after we left. If you figure in minus the time we spent at rest stops, which is maybe an hour or so, it led to about 2 and a half extra hours of driving. Blargh.
Saturday night:
- it occurs to me that I'm not sure how to get to the Convention Center. Also, Katie had thought her house was 2 hours away from Rochester, but her family says it's closer to 3. Her house doesn't have terribly reliable/usable internet. It does have a fairly dated Mapquest program, which despite her grandfather's valiant efforts, did not seem inclined to be helpful.
- I call my brother, who checks Google Maps. Google Maps decides not to load the directions portion of the response, only the map. So he gives me directions based on that.
- I call my dad, who wants me to meet him halfway to switch cars back. I tell him I don't think I can do it in the morning because I'll be late for the conference. He says I can drive back after the conference (essentially 2 hours out of the way for each of us) instead.
Sunday morning:
- awake at 6. I am reminded that I do not do mornings well. Katie's mom (THANK GOD) leads me through the labyrinthine backroads until I get to the highway that will connect me to the Thruway. Severely tired.
- At 7 I get to the highway, and become violently ill. While driving. Because I don't do mornings. I remain severely tired.
- I stop at a travel plaza in search of gas, energy drinks, and sleep. I only find the first two. Incidents include not being able to get the gas cap off of my dad's truck and needing the attendant to do it for me. He pops it off and says I'd already opened it, just hadn't pulled back.
- at 8, by a miracle of God, I get to the Rochester exit and eventually to Rochester itself around 9:30. (For the record, it was 2.5 hours. If I hadn't been going not-too-fast because of not wanting to crash into people, I think 2 hours is not a craziness.)
- I realize my brother's directions are missing some vital portion, because I'm just following the inner loop around the city in circles. Eventually I take an exit that sounds promising, wind up on the right street, a gas station attendant puts me in the right direction, and I find the hotel where the conference is taking place.
- the kayak holders on my dad's truck prevent me from using the parking garage at the hotel.
- all of the parking garages in the vicinity are closed sunday mornings.
- after pulling into various lots and then being sketched out by the homeless people -- since all of my stuff is easily visible from the windows, including the trunk, and everyone always warns not to let any of your stuff be seen in Buffalo or Rochester -- I pull into a lot and ask the man who gets out of his car beside me if the lot charges for parking. "No," he says, as five children and a wife climb out of the car. "Not if you're going to Mass." I give him a wide-eyed look and say, "I'm not...." and he says he supposes it's fine anyway.
- I get to the conference, still afraid someone will break into my car. I call Dad who says I don't have to meet him in Geneva that day after all (thank you!)
- I attend the conference, and the lull brings back the tiredness hardcore. The topic is interesting but the woman reads off every word on every slide, as though a room full of teachers and teachers-in-training can't read for themselves. I dash out the door once it ends.
- I get promptly lost and call Jaqui, who sends me on a secret backway out of Rochester that saves me a lot of time.
So all in all.... I did everything I meant to and got back alive and well. Which is really all one can ask, I suppose.
Oh yeah, and Sunday night I was at Jaqui's and called Paul to ask for a ride home, expecting him to say no. But he said yes, and apparently left right away. But when I left the apartment I didn't see him, so I went to front of the complex to wait, hoping to save him time so that he will be happy to give me a ride home in the future. But apparently he was waiting in the back lot, didn't see me leave, then went and asked Jaqui, and they both freaked out, but neither of them called me. So then when they finally went by the entrance, and I was like "oh hey" they were like "KAREN WHERE WERE YOU WE WERE FREAKING OUT" Me: ...? So my plot failed and Paul will probably never give me a ride again.
Edited to add: I forgot to mention I met up with some of my family at Rheinbeck! My aunt Carol (loyal reader) and Uncle Bud, cousins Shannon and Jason, and their adorable daughters were all there. I didn't get to hang out with them as much as I would have liked, partly because we all kept losing each other in the crowds, but it was good to see them. Good luck with your spinning, guys!