a blog launched to laugh at my own expense

Back to School

Labor Day Weekend almost didn't happen. Obviously I couldn't stop the calender but the trauma of renting a car almost stopped me. Since my car, Baby G, had been lent to a neighbor, Enterprise Rental Cars was my new BFF. 

As the World's Most Insecure Driver, I plied myself with every insurance possible, even attempting to purchase "Pet Insurance."  Minutes later, I was holding the key to a dodgy, twelve- year old Nissan, who I affectionately named Gerry. (Short for Geriatrics)  

In her age, Gerry had a fair share of short comings. For example... 1. Any time my foot tapped TAPPED the brake, I was violently propelled forward in a severe whiplash. 2. Gerry had no sun-visor mirrors, which is normally one of my non-negotiable needs. 3. Whenever she got going over 12 mph, Gerry's rear view mirror shook aggressively. 4. Her sole audio entertainment system was a CD player, however, this crisis was averted because I carry two of my favorite Justin Bieber CDs in my purse. 

And so Gerry and I began our pilgrimage to Tappahannock, VA.   

Tappahannock is famous for two things- producing Chris Brown and graduating Sarah B. Keating. (For the record, Chris Brown and I did not attend the same school.)

At our five-year reunion earlier this summer, my best girlfriends and I made a pact to return to Tappahannock and stay in the Alumni House for Labor Day Weekend. 

We woke "early" the next morning and reminisced as we walked the white clapboard campus. Nursing hangovers and oversized sunglasses, we smiled at younger girls who pranced around in their tennis skirts and hair bows.  

Being poor and hungry, we headed to the Dining Room for Brunch. As we gorged ourselves with waffles and sweetened ice tea, we gazed out over the Rappahannock River lawn, and soaked in both a tan and a view. 

As fate would have it, two of my girlfriends are back living in Tappahanock and working for the school. Their dorm rooms turned apartments are to die for! The poor Cinder blocks did not stand a chance against their color filled styles.

The weekend was devoted to talking about our feelings, consuming as many fried onion straws as possible and celebrating Caroline's birthday. Her cake was decorated according to her taste in men. 

Since three day weekends are as hard to come by as matching socks, we spent sunny Sunday on the River. As mandated by all my driving excursions, we ended up lost. My co-polit, a dyslexic reading Google Maps, was no match for Virginia farmland. 

Eventually we found our Rappahannock River Party by following the holler of country music, barking dogs and cracking open of beer cans.

Gerry and I came home Monday to the relaxation of  J and A's garden. I propped myself up with the September issue of Vogue and onDemand television. If only J and A (a pair of critically acclaimed best roomiez ever) would let me move home. 

As if the weekend could get any better, my best friend Patrick took pity on my inability to manipulate raw plants into food, and grilled a delicious dinner. 

With Labor Day Weekend over, it is time to return Gerry, empty the sand from the bottom of my tote bag and lace up my suede booties. My wardrobe and I are ready for fall! 


1 comment

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