Warning: long entry ahead. Caution: Not a happy entry.
Yeah, yesterday we left for Niagara Falls. My parents' idea, I got dragged along. Lucky me, right? Wrong.
Why am I in such a bad mood? Well, it didn't start that way. I was actually quite happy when I left, due to Simon and finally putting words to a major concern of mine that's been eating at me for awhile now. We bought the new Harry Potter book for me to read at Walmart, too. T'was $15.89. As is my custom, I read it in a day. So I had the new Harry Potter book, a concern voiced and work begun on fixing it, and my GBA SP. I was pretty good.
So what went wrong? Well, firstly, there was my dad, who somehow manages to grate on my nerves after a few hours. This was a long trip, too, although not quite as long as the one to Pittsburgh. So there was Dad. Then there was the fact that my parents picked Niagara Falls, of all places, to visit. Place I'd been to three times last year. Yeah. Three times. I really couldn't care less about the place now.
So we got to the hotel, which was a crappy one, and settled in before going to get something to eat. We stopped to ask about a good place to eat at the desk. The lady there was kind of a grandmothery type person. She paid way too much attention to me, speaking to me in a high pitched tone of voice generally reserved for babies and small children.
(gah!) After much debate, we decided we'd just start walking and see what we saw. We decided on a pizza place. The wait was about 15 minutes, but we had to stand outside. Along with an inordinate number of smokers.
(gah!^2) When we finally got into the resteraunt, we ordered and got our drinks. Our dinner then proceeded to take approximately half an hour while our stomachs growled. Mom's and my pizzas finally came, so we dug in, being very hungry by now. Dad's pizza took perhaps 10 minutes more, while he shifted, attempted to signal the waitress, and got slowly frustrated and angry. It was his type of anger, which is the type that's bound to unleash itself on the nearest target. That'd be me.
(gah!^3)
After dinner, we started walking back to the hotel. Dad, feeling better, asked whether I wanted anything. I told him unless he felt like buying silver, I doubted there'd be anything. My family is normally frugal to the extreme, so I was expecting him to shrug it off and shut his mouth. He didn't, instead he called me to look at a silver shop. So, a little reluctantly, I went. It had some nice stuff, although I was more looking for the type of place where you can buy silver by the inch. I looked around for a bit, but then the customers before us left. And I noticed the two guys manning the shop. They were looking at me, which really made me very nervous.
(gah!^4) I continued looking around in a semi-interested way, hoping they'd get bored of looking at me and do something else. However, when I approached a display near where one of the guys was standing and he said "Got milk?" softly, I knew it was time to get the heck outta there. I twitched my mouth in response, then wandered towards the exit. Once out of their sight, I walked away very fast.
Back at the room, Mom asked me if I was okay. I told her I hadn't wanted to come on this trip and she nodded and went back to her room. Sitting down on the bed, I pondered that question and was suddenly hit by a severe longing to be back home. And with a certain someone, but let's skip that for now. I cried for a bit, then sat on the windonsill and cried a bit more, looking at the city as the sun set. It was busy and noisy, people were playing loud music outside and shrieking as they ran through the halls inside. It was still interesting, though, seeing everyone walking around. Some of them saw me, too, although I have no idea how they thought to look up at the 7th floor to the one fat girl sitting on the windowsill. Oh well.
That was Tuesday. That wasn't nearly so bad as today.
Today is Wednesday. Today I woke to the shrieks of unattended children and the roar of the communal ice machine that just happens to be about 20 feet from the bed.
(gah!) I woke at about 8:10, which wasn't that bad, even given I'd stayed up to about midnight. I even woke up happy. I'd been dreaming, I think. It must have involved Robbie, because I highly doubt anything else could make me wake up happy. Nothing's ever made me wake up happy.
My optimism started dropping the second my dad called the hotel room I was staying in. I packed up, resigning myself to see the same sights for the third time in a row.
(gah!^2) I found I was hungry, too. Actual pit in the stomach type hunger. I brought everything down to the lobby and waited there, staring longingly at the internet machine with the sky-high price. I could have bought 10 minutes of internet time for two bucks Canadian. I didn't. I just
knew there was an email from someone I wanted to hear from, maybe a reply from Robbie, or something from Simon. But I decided I'd wait. I'd be a good little Frisch and save my money.
(gah!^3)
We left the hotel for breakfast. Mom spotted an extremely obvious stain on my pants that somehow hadn't come out in the wash.
(gah!^4) My feet started feeling like they were swelling up, too. That meant I was going to be in pain every full stride I took.
(gah!^5) We decided to eat at Denny's. We went it, got seated, and looked at the prices. We calculated that we would have to spend $40 American to eat properly there. So before the waiter came back, we got up and left. I didn't know you could do that, and I felt really crappy as we walked back out and my dad snapped at the two greeters in the entryway.
(gah!^6)
We ate at another place that advertised breakfast for 4 dollars. We ended up eating big breakfasts for 8 bucks instead. They were pretty good, pancakes, bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage, and "homefries." Also included tea, coffee, or hot chocolate. I had the tea along with my glass of apple juice. I burned my tongue on the tea, though. The pancakes were good, as was the bacon and eggs, the homefries were a little burnt, but the sausage had a bone in it. It really makes me feel sick to bite down on something I can't chew.
(gah!^7)
After the breakfast, we went back to the hotel, I changed pants, and my parents packed up. I laid down on the bed and half dozed, half dreamt of a certain someone. That was nice. I started to feel a little better. However, my dreams were interrupted by room service, which somehow thought the room was checked out already, even though it wasn't nearly 12 yet. Bye bye contentedness. I attempted to recapture the state of mind, but my mom knocked on the door. We were leaving. I did last check on the room and got on the elevator, only to realize I'd left the stained pants in the room. I told Mom to hold the elevator and dashed back to the room. I found the pants easily, they'd cleverly blended into the sheets. I walked back to the elevator only to find it gone. Puzzled and annoyed, I poked the button and waited a few minutes for the elevator. Mom said she'd tried to hold the elevator, but it just took off. I reminded her that she could just hold it by sticking her arm in the way of the door, and the elevator headed down. It stopped at level two and we rushed out, only to inhale two lungfuls of *massively* smokey air.
(gah!^8)
My headache raging in full now, we got to the first floor and headed outside. We put everything in the car and began walking to the Skylar tower. Yes, walking. It was "too much bother" to find a parking space for the car closer to the tower. Remember how my foot was swelling on the way to breakfast?
By the time we got to the Skylar tower, both feet hurt every time I walked on them. Weak arches, maybe.
(gah!^9)
We got to the tower, which looks remarkably like the CN tower in Toronto. I mistook it for the same tower and began worrying about the fact that I had a utility knife (sorta like a Swiss army knife) in my backpack. I didn't mean to take it along, but I couldn't run back and put it in the car. I remembered the security we had to go through in the CN tower and I wondered whether I was going to get in trouble. We decided to risk it, and headed up the elevator. It was only when we asked about the glass floor I'd loved so much that we found out that this was a different tower.
(gah!^10)
After the Skylar tower, my parents wanted to walk to see Niagara Falls from the street, despite the great view we'd had from the tower. Arches complaining with every step, I complied. My parents walked the entire pathway, going all the way to the spot next to Horseshoe Falls (Canada side). It was a long and surprisingly painful walk. They both took a lot of pictures of both sides of the Falls. The mist by Horseshoe Falls felt good, at least. It was hot.
As we began our long walk back, I felt despair falling over me. I had to keep walking, though. My parents were walking together, having a good time while I lagged behind, long faced. This "vacation" was completely for them. They began discussing how we should get back, finally deciding on taking what looked like a walking trail to get us back. The prospect of getting lost with my feet hurting was too much to bear along with having absolutely no fun and everything else, so my vision clouded over with tears. I let the tears trickle down my face as we walked towards the hotel. I cried silently, of course. This was their vacation, after all.
(gah!^11)
We found our way to Cliff Hill street, the street I'd bought the bracelet I'd lost awhile back on. I wiped my face quickly and told my parents that this was probably the street I'd been on, and if that was true, there was a Hershey's shop nearby. My mom suggested that since my feet hurt, I sit on the bench while they went to check it out. I sat down and they left. A particularly strong wave of tears hit, so I quickly pulled out my Harry Potter book and bent over it to try and hide the tears. Probably worked, who cares about a fat girl on a bench reading a book, anyway? After a bit, the tears abated and my gloom lifted as my feet stopped hurting. My parents didn't come back for a really long time, so I reread part of the book again.
When they came back, Mom said she would go get the car and we would go to the Butterfly Conservatory. Somehow the topic of silver came back up again, so Mom also asked if my feet were well enough to find that store again. I said they were, and we set off. As it happened, I couldn't, but I found a comparable store. I looked at their selection, which wasn't as good as the previous one, and found not only the old style I'd had, but a different one I liked better. The better-looking one, was, of course, two Canadian dollars more expensive. $2.50 Canadian
an inch (gah!^12) Shaking my head, I told her the style I liked was too expensive. She protested, saying it was a souveneir. I told her it was too expensive for a souveneir, and she shut up about it for awhile.
We walked on, me playing tourguide. When we reached the end of Cliff Hill Road, we found that our hotel was quite near and headed to the car. Mom revived the topic of the bracelet, insisting that if I wanted it, she would buy it. I again told her it was too expensive. She pressed the topic and I broke down into tears again.
(gah!^13) I'm too tired to tell you exactly why, but it was probably the strain of wanting the bracelet, wanting the day to be completely horrible so I could really say the day stunk, wishing she'd just drop the subject because even if she bought the thing, I'd probably lose it, and the day's previous events.
We passed the store on the way to pick up Dad and I relaxed a little, but Dad was sitting on the bench, completely spaced out. Mom honked the horn, shouted at him, and waved frantically, but finally it was me who had to get out, get within 5 feet of him, and say his name to make him focus. In a really bad mood now, I told him exactly what we'd already tried and told him he was dubbed "Captain Oblivious" for the day. He had nothing to say, which was good.
They did end up buying the bracelet. 7 inches of silver. (shakes her head) It was so freakin' expensive. I also got something for Robbie, even though I didn't have the money for it. According to Mom, this was "vacation" and while we were normally frugal, we would spend more on vacation.
We then decided it was lunchtime. We ate at Tim Horton's, the place that's the Dunkin' Donuts of Canada. (Connecticut reference) I had a bowl of chili, a cup of root beer, a roll, and a donut. Yeah, a donut. Hello, weight gain.
(gah!^14)
After lunch, we headed for the Conservatory. After getting lost, we found it and went inside. I was really hoping to see a blue Morpho butterfly, so I was almost interested to see what was inside. It was packed, and although you could buy a ticket, the wait was one and a half hours.
(gah!^15)
We had to get to Detroit still today, so we didn't buy tickets. Mom wanted a look at the gardens, though, so she went and did that while I lay under a Japanese lantern tree and played Pokemon Ruby. Mom came back after maybe half an hour and said she wanted to go to the gift shop. I tagged along to speed things up, and we soon left. Then came the drive to Detroit. Five hours. Mostly, fortunately, through Canada. Mostly boring, so I listened to music, played Ruby, and dozed. We stopped for dinner at a small town in Canada, called Ridge Town. There was a Godfather's there, so there we ate. Mom ditched me with Dad to go look around before the pizza came, though. I had Canadian bacon and pineapple. Tasty.
Strangely, the menu hadn't said Canadian bacon. I wonder what the Canadians call American bacon, the kind we usuallys serve?
I seriously enjoyed looking at the people and the shop (most of which were closed) in that small town. T'was interesting.
We drove more, then finally crossed back into the US at some Canadian city/town that starts with W. Winsford or something. The customs guy detained us because according to him, Mom's driver's license wasn't enough to prove that she was a US citizen. He let us go, though. (sighs) At least he didn't ask if we had any knives or anything. When we went through before, we answered an honest "no" because I had no idea I'd brought the stupid thing with me.
Back in the US, the gas light went on, so we spent several minutes trying to find the gas station I'd spotted earlier. Dad accused me of making it up, which irritated me to no end. We finally found it, though and bought fuel at a much nicer price that any we'd seen across the border. I mean, come on. $1.97 Canadian for a liter? A liter? That measurement that's a little larger than a quart? Give me a break! We all thought that $2.19 American for a gallon was a much better deal. Anyway, Dad never apologized.
(gah!^16) He gets cranky at night. I'd call him stupid in any langauge I can think of, but someone's sure to be able to translate it.
We drive to Mumum's (grandma Frisch's) house at 10 something to find all the lights out. The door was open, fortuately, so we let ourselves in. Eager at the thought of free Internet and the chance to finally check my mail, I grabbed my stuff and tossed it in my preassigned room. I was waylaid to hold the cat from escaping out the door, however. That was fine, I guess, though.
After everything was out of the car, I rushed to my room, got the bed ready, and turned on the computer. I checked my Gmail. One chain letter from Chris T. Disappointed at the lack of anything interesting, I went to my Yahoo email account, hoping for some email reminders for journal comments. I had two new mails. They were both spam.
I'd been gone two days, and no one apparently felt the need to say anything to me.
(gah!^17)
Tuesday was gah!*gah!*gah!*gah!, or gah! to the fourth power.
Wednesday was gah! to the 17th power.
I believe I'll just go collapse into bed and depression.
Don't reply to this if you haven't read all or most of it. I'll just bite off your head. The last two days have really stunk and I was really looking forward to hearing from my friends. I'm in a God-awful mood and I plan to stay that way. If you don't mean what you say or you haven't most of this entry, keep it silent. That means you.
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arcblades Journal
aggravated
in pain