Okay, so every December Geo and I trek across our big-assed state, headed for Jersey to visit with family and basically gad about the Big Apple to soak up the energy, ambience and ... uh, aromas of the greatest city in these United States. Last week was that week.
A great time was had by all. And by "all" I mean Geo and me, because I can't speak for anyone else really, even though I think all involved had a blast... well maybe not a "blast" per se, but a good time socializing and hanging. We saw concerts, shopped, ate, drank.. and did something I'm honestly a little embarrassed about that I will never tell you. EVER. Not even if I'm drunk. Let's just say afterwards I felt the need to visit the local distillery to sample whiskeys. And I HATE whiskey (which was confirmed by the tastings, by the way). My family made me do it (and I love them for it).
Moving on...
So we go to leave from my brother's place in the upper Hudson Valley when it starts to snow. Big flakes. Big, fluffy, stick-to-every-living-thing-on-Earth like roads, cars, eyelashes, road signs, thick-necked locals named Gunther, flakes.
We head off, get about 50 miles down the interstate and...
SCREETCH!!!
Dead stop.
Now there's kind of a mix of snow/sleet. Obviously an accident is being cleared up ahead. We wait... and wait... and wait.... and then decide to jump off at the random exit figuring Felicity, our English GPS girlie-girl, will guide us.
"Recalculating..."
We get to the next entrance to 287 and are greeted with a police barricade which forces us in yet another direction. *sigh*
"Recalculating..."
She does... right into another closed, accident-strewn road. *Grrrrrrrr*
"Recalculating..."
Now it's freezing rain, and we are Lord knows where in the northern mountainous region of Jersey trying not to slide head first into a ditch or McMansion. The good news is, as we go further south, the temperature is warming--slightly. The bad news is we can't seem to get the f*ck out of this f*cking town and back onto f*cking 287!
Now it's pouring rain.
"Recalculate this", you over-educated, snotty-nosed, pretentious Satellite Sister and get us the HELL HOME!!?!
But wait... Up ahead... can it be? Is it... an open entrance to *gulp* 287?!? Hallelujah Hollywood!! Hot Damn! We may actually get home before April.
So let's review, shall we:
We travelled through snow, sleet, freezing rain, ice and pouring rain over a three hour period and drove roughly 82 miles. Oh and let's not forget the cherry on the sundae--dense fog later on in our journey. Yea! Literally every conceivable winter weather event, condensed like a Reader's Digest Satanic Sampler, played out over the course of an afternoon in our little quest for home.
If I ever meet this Old Man Winter, I am going to kick him square in the nut sack with the pointiest of pointy shoes.
I hate winter already...
