As you know Miss Print and I are in the midst of our synchronized reading of Roomies by Tara Altebrando and Sara Zarr.
At this point we’ve talking about our Last Summers & First Steps into college life. Yesterday we’ve posted our reviews, sharing our thoughts and feelings about this (awesome) book. And today, since both main characters Elizabeth and Lauren live in popular vacation spots, we thought it would be a lot of fun to talk about some of our favorite vacation memories.
I am not a world traveler, even though I have dreams of being one. But I have taken some awesome vacations. Today I’m going to talk about one of the funniest memories from a previous vacation.
One of the first vacations I went on – without my family that is – was when one of my most closest friend’s Danielle and I loaded into my car and drove twenty-five hours South. We drove straight through to Louisiana from New Jersey. It was a long ride, but ultimately a memorable one. We listened to Libba Bray’s Going Bovine (on audiobook obviously), we blasted our favorite music while the windows were rolled down and our hair was whipping around our faces. It was an extremely long ride – probably one I would never, ever do again – but it was a lot of fun.
After so many hours sitting in my roller skate of a car we finally pulled into our “hotel”* parked, swiftly unpacked, and collapsed into bed. And the next day, when we woke, that’s when the fun began. We were in St. Francisville Louisiana for one reason: Myrtle’s Plantation – an antebellum plantation turned into B&B that has been named on of the most haunted places in America. Well, we were there for Myrtles and all of the other antebellum plantations this small Southern town had to offer.
But this part of the post isn’t going to be about those plantations. It’s going to be about a very specific memory from that vacation. But in case you were wonder, the plantations that St. Francisville offered were amazing! And if you have an interest, I would most definitely would recommend going. It was such a great experience.
So, before Danielle and I actually set out to tour some of the above mentioned plantations, we were getting ready to set out for the day. While Dee was busy getting ready I was busy reading Jon Skovron’s Misfit. When, out of the corner of my eye I spy some movement on the window. I ignore it with the hopes that it would crawl back out of whatever hole in the screen it came in by. I ignore it because I am not good with insects in general. Especially ones that appear to be on steroids and ones that can sting and/or bite. I ignore it still with the hopes that if I don’t draw attention to it, Dee will not notice it.
Well, Dee noticed it … and FREAKED! Her freaking out, lead to me freaking out. Which isn’t a really good combination. At this point I’m going to switch gears into the dialog that was exchanged between myself and closest friend Dee.
Dee: It’s a bitey bug! It’s a bitey bug! Kill it! I don’t know if I’m allergic to wasps (she yells as she tosses a bottle of Off Spray to me)
Me: Well, I don’t know if I’m allergic to it either!
Dee: Kill it! Kill it! Spray it with the Off!
(Seriously, Dee! What did you think I was doing with the Off Spray?!?)
Me: I am! But all is seems to be doing is disabling it from flying about. (And now that I think about it, I’m royally ticking it off.)
Dee: Here! (she says as she pelts a flip-flop at me. For the record Dee, that really hurt!) Kill it!
Me: I’m trying to!
Now at this point you need to remember I am not a tall person. I’m just a five foot tall girl whose arms are proportionate to my height. And I’m stretching as far as I possibly could trying to swat the wasp dead. When Dee noticed I was failing (miserably) at this our conversation took a different turn.
Dee: Call Kevin!
(Kevin, for the record, was either the hotel manager and/or owner. It’s been several years since this trip and I’m still not one hundred percent sure of his role. But Kevin and I became fast friends after the bitey bug incident.)
Me: I’m not calling Kevin.
Dee: Call Kevin!
Me: I am NOT calling Kevin! (yes, I’m still struggling to kill the giant wasp – and again I’m failing miserably. At this point it was crawling to the farthest corner of the window.)
Dee: Call Kevin!
Me: Fine! I’ll call Kevin. (I hate admitting defeat.)
Beep – boop – bop – beep- beep-boop-bop (that’s me dialing Kevin’s phone number if you couldn’t guess)
Kevin: Nicole in bungalow 5, how are you?
Me: Hi Kevin, there’s a wasp in our room. It won’t leave. Could you come over and take care of it?
Within a matter of seconds Kevin was knocking on our door.
Me: Hi Kevin. It’s on the window. We tried killing it with Off Spray but it really didn’t do anything.
Dee: shuddering with fear next to me.
Kevin kills the bitey bug with ease. The bitey bug was dead, and was removed from our room within seconds. Kevin was our hero! And with the bitey bug out of room and out of our lives we were left to enjoy all that St. Francisville had to offer!
(* We really didn’t stay in a hotel. We stayed in a modernized 1950s bungalow. They were inexpensive and awesome! I’d stay there in a heart beat.)