On short vacations

Companies tend to dole out vacation time in weeks. This makes sense. A few months into my job at Bluesocket, I decided to take a Monday-Wednesday mini-vacation, but it left me yearning for more. Here's the scoop:

I left work around 2:30 on Friday after packing my cubicle for Bluesocket's new digs, across Burlington. (I apologize for not giving you every last detail of the move.) By 4:00, Jill, Linda, Corissa, and I were in Jill's Avalon, picking up my dry cleaning (an excruciating 15-minute stop) on the way to New Haven. We got to the cleverly-named New Haven Hotel ("The Quiet Hotel," according to their equally clever logo) several hours later, but weren't too late for the rehearsal of Nicole and Brian's wedding. The dinner that followed was exquisite, and it was nice to see Jill in her element, surrounded by friends and talking endlessly about babies.

Saturday morning brought the thoroughly rehearsed nuptials and the thoroughly thorough post wedding activities. The reception began outdoors on a beautiful afternoon in front of the Amalfi grill, where we would later eat another extravagant meal, this time serenaded by karaoke singers ranging from suprisingly brilliant (Brian's two contributions, some guy's touching dedication to his wife, who was vomiting in the bathroom at the time, and my own Jewel's gem) to predictably awful (the Connecticut girls singing Air Supply three feet from a microphone, 80's rubbish screeched with hands in the air as the crowd dissipated). The break between the reception and the after party reminded some of us of how tired we were, but if nothing else, the Irish bar that hosted the postgame was the perfect venue, with tasty appetizers, a Sox win, and another Y*****s loss. I managed to stay awake at the wheel for the easy drive home, and was rewarded at midnight with a long night's sleep.

Sunday was yet another travel day, this time with a much more desirable destination. Jill and I caught an afternoon flight to North Carolina, where my parents and Colleen met us for Yuenglings, wings, and nachos at the South's most enormous sports bar. Jill was thrilled to find that my mom is just as dedicated to Sunday TV, so we didn't have to miss Desperate Housewives and Gray's Anatomy just because we were on vacation.

Monday was a catch-up-with-the-parents day until Kristen and Tyler brought the life of the party into town and the weekend got going (read: I got to watch Napoleon Dynamite for the first time in months). We ate a fantastic mom-cooked meal and prepared for Dance Dance Revolution with the Dans, but were thwarted when Daniel realized he had forgotten the disc. Hoopla was an adequate substitute, as all parties held their own in back-to-back wins against the clock.

Tuesday was your typical film-and-pottery day, as the whole family (including a truant Colleen) went down to the Seagrove pottery district, a multi-county region in North Carolina littered with kilns and tiny trailers where local potters hock their wares. I picked up a lovely soap dispenser for the bathroom in our last stop. Despite the marvel of pot turning and burning, Tuesday's highlight came at a southern diner, where our waitress had the following exchange with Jill:


Jill (ordering): "What's the difference between the Bar-B-Q sandwich and the Bar-B-Q plate?"

Waitress: "The plate has fries, slaw, and hushpuppies; the sandwich doesn't."

Jill: "I'll have the Bar-B-Q plate."

Jill (upon receiving the plate, which was quite different from a sandwich in its lack of bread): "Can I get a slice of bread with this?"

Waitress (after a short blank stare): "You mean like toast?"

Jill: "Yeah, but not toasted. Just bread."

Waitress (after a much longer blank stare): "So you want like a bun or like, bread?"

Jill: "Bread. A piece of wheat bread."

Waitress (bringing a plate with one slice of white bread): "Is this what you were talking about?"


The same waitress would later refill my Coke and Jill's Diet Coke by pouring a full glass of Coke into my 1/8th full glass and leaving the remaining 1/8th in the new glass, the exact same result she would have achieved if she had just set the new glass down like a northern waitress. Priceless.

On Tuesday evening, I caught the first half of "Sideways" again, was blown away by "The Incredibles," which earned all the praise heaped upon it and more, and slept through most of "Finding Neverland," which was a hit with Jill.

After packing for the trip home, we all caught the first half of a doubleheader between the Greensboro Grasshoppers and the Kanneville (or something) Intimidators. My first single A baseball experience was not far removed from my last Little League experience. The outfielders were atrocious and a stadium full of kids on the greatest field trip ever went nuts when the scoreboard asked for "more noise", but couldn't care less when Greensboro pitchers recorded any of their 10 strikeouts in a 7-inning game. Despite its shortcomings, sitting a few feet from the field on an 86-degree day in North Carolina watching dingers! with my adorable niece and the rest of the family was the perfect way to relish the waning seconds of my vacation.

We stopped for a few beers on the way to the airport, and got home in time to catch another Sox win over a pizza at Pepperoncini's, but by morning it was back to the real world. I'm ready for a full week off. Maybe next week.