Growing Older

If you think that this is going to be a post filled with some great advice for growing older or me complaining that my back hurts - you will be sorely disappointed. This post is about how old people baffle me on a regular basis.

So this whole week at the shore, I've been asked at least twice a day when the family members over the age of 40 pass by and I'm on the computer, "You workin'?" Let me tell you that it gets really annoying to have to keep telling them that I'm not. Today was the last time for that question hopefully, as my response was "Do you have to ask me that every day? No, I'm not. Is there something wrong with wanting to play on Facebook and blog? You're reading - are you working?" I think that should be the end of that question. I wouldn't mind if 4 different people kept walking up to ask me the same question every single day. There is a reason that I like working - the questions are less aggravating.

There are some other things that they do which really confuse me as well. One of the things that I will never understand is how watching QVC (the home shopping channel) as a television program is considered acceptable. I don’t think it is. It leads me to believe that there is something seriously wrong and a trip to the doctor for a brain scan is in order.

Lastly, they don’t ask for things. Old people start asking questions instead as a roundabout way of finding out the answer. For instance, my uncle doesn’t like to go to the beach. But he loves going on day trips to see the sights (we are surrounded by ocean – that’s the only sight I need) or going shopping at one of the towns. So my cousin and his girlfriend were walking downstairs earlier today. My uncle was checking his email on his computer on the other side of the room yells out, “Hey Matt, where are you going?” Matt replies that he and Mary are heading to the beach and my uncle just grunts and goes back to his email. Not long after, Uncle Bruce was heading over to Stone Harbor to do some shopping. Uncle Dan asks the same question. When he discovers that Bruce is going shopping it’s all of a sudden, “Wait – I’ll go with you!” He jumps up from the computer, runs upstairs to get his wallet, and out the door they go. If he just would have asked if anyone was planning on heading somewhere other than the beach today, he would have saved himself quite a bit of frustration. I guess retired people just need stuff to do to kill some time and frustrating themselves and others around them is considered to be one of those activities.

(By the way, his computer just said that he had new email. He didn’t even bother to log out before running out the door to go to Stone Harbor).

A Post from (Jersey) Paradise

We should get to have an entire summer off for vacation. It’s the most relaxing thing to be sitting here on a balcony at the Jersey shore with the sound of the waves in the background. Despite the fact that the lighting over the bay is beautiful, I’m not a huge fan of the approaching storm since I’m outside with a laptop (that could end badly), but the sound of the waves is fantastic!

Apparently on a vacation where there’s not touristy sight-seeing stuff to do, it can be interesting to look back at your daily activities trying to figure out how you killed your time waiting for reality to bring your happiness to a screeching halt. For instance, yesterday cocktail hour started at 4:30pm. Cocktail hour lasted through dinner and the Phillies game until it was time to walk to Sea Isle City proper for $1 Miller Lite night at La Costa. That lasted until around 1am when cousin Matt and I walked back to the house. I proceeded to continue drinking on the front balcony where I’m sitting now. Uncle Dan and Uncle Bruce had also gone out to Shenanigans for reggae night and they pulled into the driveway around 1:25am. Uncle Dan went to go to sleep (pass out if you will) while Uncle Bruce and I continued to drink on the porch and chit chat until after 3am.

I woke up around noon (I wanted to be up around 10:30am but it’s my vacation and I don’t mind sleeping in after a party night). I had a sandwich for lunch, played online for awhile, and then proceeded to slather myself with suntan lotion in order to head to the beach. Apparently if you go to the beach at 2pm you get a nice spot near the water since the tide is on its way out from 11 to 5 every day and night during our vacation this year.

On the beach today after I had sufficiently drained my iPod battery and had enough sun to burn my legs, Matt and I played paddle ball for about a half hour before heading back to the house. It was the first time I had played paddle ball and I wasn’t prepared. We didn’t think to Google the rules of beach paddle ball or actually, beach tennis. However, I did learn that beach tennis is not like real tennis. Or at least my backhand is not the same as my tennis backhand. Matt learned that, too, since the ball went way over his 6’5” body. Tomorrow we will have to try it with the rules and maybe make it a 4 player game since Colleen and Mary should be here. I just need to remember one very important thing – make sure to tap the sand off of the ball before serving. Otherwise, I end up with sand in my eyes and there is a danger that I will be hit in the face when Matt returns the ball. It is a dangerous game – not as dangerous as darts, but dangerous nonetheless.

So after coming back to the house, it was time to shower, make a quick beer run, then get ready and head out to dinner. Most of the places at the shore are pretty pricey since they only have a few months in order to make their money for the year. But the food was decent at this place, Carmen’s. The restaurant was pretty cool because it was semi-outdoor seating. When I say semi-outdoor seating, I mean that there was a roof over what was almost like a pier or a very wide dock with open sides overlooking a tiny marina and picnic table seating. While the food wasn’t really anything to write about, the scenes from the table were. There was a duck and her duckling that swam by. Some kids on the dock below our “window” fed them some bread, causing seagulls (dirty birds) to appear to steal the bread. Then I saw a full-fledged, knock-down, drag-out fight between 2 seagulls. That was pretty cool. The first seagull grabbed the tail of the other seagull and dragged it to the water. I think they were trying to drown each other. A mutual drowning would have been nice but sadly, both birds made it out alive.

And that brings me to now – blogging from the balcony, listening to the ocean, and watching the lightning. There are some stars overhead where there is no cloud cover. I honestly wish this could be my life in the summer. Hanging out on the balcony with the waves…the laptop can be here, too, but only for surfing the web and blogging. Not work. I should probably play the Powerball when I get back home for a chance at early retirement with lots of money…

How to Survive a Trip on a Greyhound Bus

1. Don't take the Greyhound bus.

Seriously - it's that simple.

I had the worst experience getting out to Jersey all because I needed to drive back with my mother because she hates driving that far alone. I should have shelled out the gas and felt bad for the environment instead.

To start it all off, everyone in Pittsburgh except anyone who worked for Greyhound bus knew that the Parkway East outbound was closed between Churchill and Monroeville. This closure caused stand still traffic for an hour and 20 minutes. It took an hour and 20 minutes to go from Second Avenue downtown to the Monroeville Mall. All the Greyhound bus driver needed to do to avoid this was to go north to the Turnpike, get off at Monroeville and pick up the people there, then get back on the Turnpike and head East. Simple...easy...EFFICIENT! And I am a stickler for efficiency...

I felt bad complaining about having to have my family come pick me up. The girl I sat next to was had left Des Moines, Iowa at around 2pm on Saturday afternoon (so 3pm EDT) and was on her way to Virginia Beach. She needed to get to Richmond and then transfer buses again to get to her destination. This poor girl was going for training for her job and had never ridden a Greyhound bus in her life. Needless to say I think that both she and I will either be flying or taking the train from now on. I actually feel even worse for the girl I sat next to because I purposely did not shower that morning after Ashley's bachelorette party. My plan to get my own seat and sleep off my hangover all the way to Jersey. So yeah, I really stunk. I spent the early afternoon sweating all of the booze out of my system. It was seriously gross.

So the hour and 20 minutes was not accounted for in the travel time, meaning that the bus I needed to switch onto in Baltimore that was supposed to take me to Atlantic City was leaving before I was supposed to get there. Not good. And while my mother insisted that when she called the Balitmore Greyhound bus station and they said there was a 9:30pm bus, there wasn't. The bus driver, the kind man that he is, informed me that by no means would they hold the bus in Baltimore for me and that I would have to figure something out. So I was a bit panicky because I feared being trapped in Baltimore dodging bullets at the bus station all night. My mother and aunt made arrangements to drive down to Baltimore and pick me up.

Well, we get to Baltimore approximately 15 minutes after my other bus was supposed to leave, which really pissed me off since I didn't understand why they couldn't hold the bus. Walking off the bus, Mr. Greyhound Bus Driver 2008 informs me that the bus to Atlantic City is just a couple buses down. I looked at him, said "Thank you for letting me know, but I made other arrangements." So I call my family who immediately inform me to get on the bus. Thinking that the first driver would be helpful (not like he was before but I was giving him the benefit of the doubt) I asked him again where the Atlantic City bus is. He said "Down that way. Good luck getting a seat - they probably gave it away." So then I had to ask 2 other Greyhound bus guys, who at least were helpful, which Greyhound bus I needed. Fortunately I made it.

And don't you know that the bus was empty and I had my own seat - at least until the other Baltimore stop at the Travel Plaza when this guy sat down next to me even though I am pretty sure that there were full open seats elsewhere on the Greyhound bus. I still don't understand that. I seriously had to have smelled awful - like a bar since I spent all of Saturday night in one drinking.

So remember, learn from me - taking the Greyhound bus is a terrible idea. It's better to shell out money and take a cab or drive or take the train.