Sunday, August 3, 2008

I'm gonna go ahead and tell you about my beach trip


Some plans change, but we go with the flow. G6 and I spent the afternoon at the pool in Reston. It was like Umbria, but different.

I'll go to great lengths to avoid sun damage.

I am so glad that the city of Reston is doing it's part to enforce the gender binary with young Americans.

Actually, I could have stayed on this porch all weekend. Jim and Vanna have a sweet set-up.

And it shines through in their all-American daughter.

Who is sometimes also a scary monster. Finally, we packed the car and prepared to head out on the road.

We grabbed Nzingha, dined on Argentinian & Bolivian delights in Wheaton, and hit the road.

When we reached Salisbury, it was very late. Nothing could have prepared us for the Super 8 motel on Salisbury Blvd. A sign on the front door instructed us to clean our boots before entering. It smelled...bad. Nzingha and I entered the room, and I think we both considered turning around. Or sleeping in the car. But Giovanna has incredible power of will, and she willed the place to be alright. So we got wasted on her parents' whisky and watched cable and played scrabble. After we carefully inspected the sheets and Nzingha and I convinced Giovanna not to touch the blanket or bedspread with any part of her body...

Things got better. As I was preparing for bed, those two night owls insisted we head out on the Salisbury town. They were really excited about the Green Turtle in the strip mall across the highway. Especially Nzingha.

So we went to IHOP at 2:30 am. So we DID get the Green Turtle experience too. Izzy (pictured here) was the one redeeming quality about Salisbury. It is lucky for Salisbury (and for IHOP) that we got to experience him. He has a fan club (according to bathroom graffitti).

This fruit crepe was almost inedible. How can you fuck up an IHOP fruit crepe? As G6 pointed out, it tasted papery, much like the Slim Jim we experimented earlier in the evening.

What could we do?

Morning came, and light and soberiety in the Mississippi Masala motel (Nz's term) was too much.

The view from our window...

So finally!

Nzingha's pesticide grapes, very romantic looking.


The sun acted sort of miraculously in our favor. It was only sunny for the 6 hours we were on the beach. Which is good, considering our Salisbury ordeal- we needed the beach part to go right!


These women are fierce. I have lost any scrabble-cockiness I once posessed.

The birds ignored me like 12 year olds.

One last dip.

Time to start the long trek back to the car.

God bless America.

We got our local produce JUST in time.

It started pouring VIOLENTLY, zero visibility. G6, always a particularly conscientious driver, pulled over.

And by the time we got to Mike's Crab Shack, it was dry once again.

We went ahead and got a bunch of shrimp and haddock. G6 and I went ahead and drank a couple glasses of wine and then we went ahead and joined Nz in some chowder. We went ahead and each indulged in our own cup, even though, as Elliott pointed out to us, it would have been cheaper to share a bowl. We decided to go ahead and leave him a tip, even though it took him forever to go ahead and bring us some cutlery. Something was watching over us, after all. God? Moses? JC? Only Giovanna knows.

1 comment:

Karin Wolf said...

I'm gonna go ahead and tell you that even though I hate direct contact with sunshine or heat, this blog entry kinda made me wish I was there. Maybe it is just the thought of you three sexy ladies in the Super 8 or the Crab Shack, but it sounds like my idea of a good time...and god knows, I can sleep anywhere.