Rhode Island Recap
I was right: Lisa has a Mac.
Anyway, I'm home. I will give you a full account of my exploits (and there
are several) when I have the energy to type them out. So maybe later today,
maybe tomorrow. I promise nothing.
11:05 AM
So I check my bank balance today to see how close I am to zero in my chequing
account, because I only had a couple hundred in there before I left. But now
I have over a thousand dollars! I got paid from Carleton and I got back my
income tax refund (filed online on March 3). So I give that to VISA, which covers the debt
I had before I left, plus the debt I incurred while in RI that's not posted
yet, and now I owe VISA about $25, which I will give them at the end of the
week when I get paid from my real job.
So I would like to announce that I am officially debt-free, just as I had
planned (I believe I said I would be debt-free by the time of my birthday.
TADA!). So now I can really start to save and capitalize on my new raise.
Yay me.
I'll try to post my exploits at lunch time, but we'll have to see.
1:10 PM
I'll see how much of the trip I can get through right now.
Day One: 10 March 2006
The flight to Providence is bumpy and boring, but otherwise uneventful. I arrive at T.F. Green at about 330 in the afternoon, head down the escalator,
and see . . . NO LISA. I figure, whatever, I have to pee and get money out
anyway, so I do this and look around. There's Lisa, frowning intently into
her wallet. We exchange birthday greetings and then she says, "Today has been
completely
crazy/ You will not believe what has happened." Firstly,
she had a crappy day at school and was grumpy. Then, the driver's license
that she was supposed to have received that day from FedEx (because hers
expired on that day) had not arrived because the driver had fucked up and
returned the package to Downsview ON for no apparent reason. So Lisa had to
pay extra to arrange to have the package delivered on a Saturday, even though
it wasn't her fault, and she was now driving with an expired license. She had
also, upon arriving at the airport, gone to the ATM only to discover that she
was
overdrawn $114. So we book it to the bank before it closes (in
Providence rush hour traffic on the I95) to find out what was going on. Turns
out that her rent cheque, insurance cheque, parking cheque, and all her
cheques all cleared on the same day -- her birthday. Well shit. Luckily, I
had in my hot little hands a cheque from her mother for $3000. And Lisa had a
little one-time use get-out-of-jail-free card that reversed her overdraft
charges. So that was all good.
We went to Taste of India on Wickendon for Lisa's birthday dinner, and then
headed to the Grad Center Bar (GCB) for drinks. I think I only bought myself
one or two, but I definitely had about four, plus the wine we'd had at the
restaurant. And for some reason, every time I had to turn to wave at someone
I knew and hadn't seen since I was in Providence two years ago (once), and
every time I had to use my arms to give an approximate size for something I
was talking about (once), my drinks would inexplicably go flying across the
table. The first time, I soaked Matt, and the second time I splattered
Austin. After the second tim, Sam and I decided I shouldn't waste any more
good alcohol. Then Nate and I set up a plan, as the bar closed around us, for
him to seduce Lisa (this is his girlfriend, so it's all right, ladies and
gentlemen). I had the spare set of keys to Lisa's place, so Matt took me
home. We missed Lisa's drunked fit outside the GCB when she refused to wear
her shoes home (she does this every time she is drunk. She ended up wearing
Nate's socks home, which were black by the time they got there. Nate had to
pitch them. Matt and I stayed up for a few hours talking before we fell asleep. I first
met Matt in his freshman year when I was a sophomore and he was Nate's
roommate when Nate and Lisa first started dating. So we get along splendidly,
and spent many hours catching up.
Day Two: 11 March 2006
Matt and I went back to his place the next morning (he lives in the apartment
below Nate) to watch movies and wait for Lisa and Nate to wake up. Then Lisa
and I head to her car, which is parked in a lot about a block away from her
place, and we recall the conversation we had the night before where she
complained about the small size of her space, and how the lines weren't
parallel, and how there was a large white sedan on her driver's side that kept
parking over the line and screwing up her parking job. So we get to the car
and there's a note on her windshield. This is from the driver of the
enormous black Land Rover that parks on her passenger side. The tone of the
note is unbelievably rude (it starts with "Honestly, Learn how to PARK" and
continues from there). It said that her parking jobs were consistenly "piss
poor" and the asshole concluded the letter by leaving his full name, Scott
William Dunn, and his cell phone number. So Lisa called him and chewed him
out that very minute, explaining that it wasn't her fault that she was over
the line (and folks, this is never by very much), that it had to do with the
sedan, and if SHE had left a note to the sedan, it would have been much more
polite. Then she hung up on him while he was still talking. She was very
angry.
But things were only to get worse.
We picked up Nate, because FedEx was delivering to his mailbox, and headed to
the Post Office. No driver's license. So Lisa called FedEx. Again. And
chewed them out. Again. And they were far less than helpful. Again. Like
they were making stuff, up, saying that Saturday delivery is not necessarily
guaranteed to arrive on Saturday, even though you pay extra for the service.
And other complete and utter bullshit like that. They kept repeating that
"all signs point to your package being there Monday." Which, of course, is
three days too late.
We go back to Lisa's place, where she sleeps for a while and I mark papers and
try to avoid her roommates, who have taken this weekend to go crazy. Then we
decide to follow up on our plan to go with Sam to Wrentham, MA, site of the
largest outlet mall I have ever seen. But when we got there, the parking lot
was absolutely full. I mean PACKED. Thousands of cars, many parked
illegally. We drove for half an hour and didn't even get out of the car
before we headed back.
We went back. We showered. Then headed out to the local sushi joint for
David's birthday, then back to his place for chocolate cake that his mother
mailed him from home. Then home, where we watched Wayne's World 2 with Nate
until we fell asleep, and that was the end of Day Two.
[more later. I have to get back to work now.]
4:56 PM
Day Three: 12 March 2006
This day
nearly passed without incident. We got up and I drove us (no
license for Lisa, remember -- although Providence is INTERESTING to drive in)
to the mall so I could hit Victoria's Secret. I also ended up buying a dress
at J. Crew, which is lovely. I got a 10% discount because I was a "callege
student" (I almost said no, because I still have a college/university split in
my head). Turns out I'm a PERFECT size 8 at that store. And I mean PERFECT.
In every way. I've never had a set of clothes fit me so well.
On the way back, we stopped at RISD (Rhode Island School of Design, the
Julliard of art schools) Works, which is a store that featueres designs by
alumni and faculty. If I had several thousand dollars to spend, I would have
spent them there. I believe there's a website for them, as well. Yes,
here it is. Check it out.
We went back to Education Hill and headed to Lisa's lab, where we spent the
next three and a half hours doing homework. I marked ten whole papers in that
time. We then headed back to shower before meeting Nate for dinner. After
our meal, which was lovely Italian, we picked up some neat ice cream from
Coldstone's on Thayer, before dropping off Nate and then the car at the lot.
I made Lisa fix her parking job until it was absolutely PERFECT, to avoid any
unnecessary conflict with the asshole Land Rover. We were leaving the lot and
munching on our ice cream when who should pull up and start to turn into the
lot but the black Land Rover! He saw us, because Lisa had armed her car just
at that second, so he saw the taillights flash and knew it was her. We saw
him. I pointed at him and said, "Well, look who it is!" He stopped suddenly
in mid-turn, reversed sharply, and peeled out down the street, tires squealing
in his efforts to get away from us. I think Lisa scared the crap out of him
when she talked to him. It made the whole nasty situation seem a little
funnier, in the end. Lisa looked him up on the university website, and it
turns out he's a big, ugly, dumb jock who belongs to a fraternity best known
for the roofies it slips to freshmen. Charming, I'm sure.
We marched home in glee and watched the rest of Wayne's World 2, and talked
for a bit. It was around midnight when one of Lisa's crazy roommates started
doing the dishes, the recycling, and taking out the trash. Very loudly. Then
there was a horrendous crash and *apparently* Lisa's favourite painting (done
by her former roommate) just randomly FELL off the huge mantlepeice. Just
fell. Uh-huh.
Day Four: 13 March 2006
We got up in time for me to have a shower and pack and then met Sam at my
favourite restaurant, Spike's, for a farewell hotdog lunch. Lisa had to go to
class for an hour so I was deposited in a swanky computer lab where I played
online computer games on 21" flat screens for a bit, and then Lisa took me to
the airport, where I said goodbye to Providence for the last time, and then my
airport adventure began.
I ended up at first in the wrong check-in line, because, although I was flying
with a certain airline, it was being operated by someone else. Thank you for
telling me. I stood in line for half an hour behind some dumbass who was
causing trouble for the ticket agent before I found this out.
I trundled across the airport to the right ticket agent, who refuses to serve
me personally and makes me do it online. Fine. But then I only get one
boarding pass, when I'm supposed to have two. So she's obliged to serve me
personally, albeit in a not-so-polite fashion. She can't even get me a real
boarding pass, and tells me I'll have to check in again when I get to La
Guardia. I make it through security and wander over to my gate. Just as I
get there, the lady at the desk pages me. She tells me that, although my
flight is at 400, the plane coming from New York that was supposed to get
there at 200 has only just arrived, because New York is experiencing very low
ceilings. So she's going to put me on the earlier (but two hours delayed)
flight to ensure I get to New York on time to get my connector. So I end up
on a bigger plane with a double seat all to myself. Yay.
We're only in the air about an hour when we land in New York. I wanter
disconsolately around the terminal, trying to find a sign telling me where the
international ticket gate is. I finally end up having to go through the
security exit in order to find the ticket counters. They are all for US Air.
I ask around for international, and someone directs me to the far side of this
long hallway. I line up, and wait ten minutes for the agent there to stop
flirting with a girl and come and talk to me. He then promptly informs me
that I am in the wrong TERMINAL, but doesn't offer any information about how I
am to get to the right one, until I adopt his brusque manner and demand
directions from him. He says, "take the A or B bus, down there and to the
left." I head down the stairs and to the bus stop, where all I see are city
buses, and these weird coaches that want to charge me SIX DOLLARS to drive me
to the main terminal, which, I can see, is about a ten minute walk away. So I
walk. New York smells TERRIBLE. At least at the airport. And it's full of
cabbies yelling and honking at each other.
I reach the main terminal, and, with a few wrong turns (there are still no
user-friendly signs here) find the Air Canada ticketing desk. I can't check
in online, because apparently I'm already checked in. Surprise surprise. But
I still have no boarding pass. Then this guy comes along and tells me to go
and see this other guy, WHO WAS SO NICE. He told me I was the luckiest girl
in the world, because my flight, which wasn't supposed to leave until 800, was
likely going to be cancelled. He had another flight, which was supposed to
leave at 400 but was still there (this was about 545), and I could catch it if
I ran. So I ran. Through security. Down hallways and escalators. I made
it. There were two gates going to Canada, one to Toronto and the other to
Ottawa. This area was filled with four hundred very annoyed and swearing and
sweating people who had been there all day, because all flights to Toronto
were cancelled. And I got there, got on the plane, and we left at around
630. No one on that plane (where I also got to sit by myself) was actually
supposed to be on that flight. I had to stand in line for an hour at customs when I got home, but I
escaped New York pretty easily, and through none of my own doing. People just
went out of their way to make me very very lucky.
And that was my trip. I'll post the pictures I took (mostly drunken people you
won't know, but I will), on flickr when I have a second.
Posted by Ally at March 14, 2006 09:02 AM