disclaimer or something

A mummy-hand holding, (former) biker gang affiliating, hippie influenced semi crunchy granola mom's ramblings and reminisings on an off-kilter life

Monday, June 11, 2012

Travel Hell

travel trials and tribulations 1

i love to travel but it doesn't love me. I write this as I plan a trip after a terrible 24 hour ordeal.

worst. trip. ever.

in about 1994 i went on a school field trip for a week to central california to discover the gold rush, history in action or something. well last minute my friends cancel so i scramble for a ride with people i know as in, "you're in my math class, I think" but that's all. So off we go for a 9 hr drive, and I get to sit in the mddle-backseat where its raised, hard, and only fits 4/5 of my butt. to make matters worse, we listen to a cassette tape with two songs- lady in red, and some celine dion song. those 2 songs, on repeat, for 9 hours straight. no wonder i am a little crazy. so we get there and i get teased to no end fo having furry legs as i'd fogotten to shave and didn't bring a razor. yeah, no big deal but to the fragile ego of a flat chested, glasses toting middle schooler, it was devastating. then we are to camp and do all activities with whoever we rode with so our camp mom who was a ritsy lake arrowhead elitist wont let her daughter and friend eat camp food, how trashy. so she takes us to the fine dining experience of carls jr... as it was the only restaurant in the area. well my parents had given me $50 to dspend on admission to caves and mines and for souvenirs. but since i always root for the underdog, i gave $30 to some poor girl who really really wanted to go spelunking and had no money. spelunking! i ended up eating french fries and nothing more the whole week, as $20, 7 days, 3 meals means you eat value menu fries. yuck. then a huge rain storm comes and floods our camp in the middle of the night so we pack up our wet belongings and cram a few dozen middle schoolers into some cabin in the snow that probably accomodates 10, so we had to sneak in. then we are on the way home and camp mo decides, no, there's no room for my luggage so it goes in some other car to be picked up at school that night. but camp mom doesnt want to drop by the school so i get picked up by my dad who is sick so he won't get my stuff.
the next day i go to school and ask the teachers about my stuff. my english teacher gives me a weird look and says to have my mom pick me up after school. she comes in to get me and the janitor shows up with a triangular object. oh. its my suitcase. whoever took my luggage just left it in the paRking lot, upon which the school busses proceded to run over in the am. i had tire treads on my clothes and the textbooj we had to bring on the trip was a nice triangle.

this field trip remains in my memory as the worst trip ever.

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