Good Ol' VA

It'd been quite a while since I'd last gone down to Virginia to visit Big Momma. Mom decided to sit the trip out. Dad, T, and I left about five hours after we'd planned, which is fairly typical. Dad turned on the Redskins game and nearly gave me a heart attack once he started screaming and cheering maniacally. I hadn't had a meal that day, so I started complaining about food. We decided to stop at Tyson's Corner.

At Tyson's, I convinced my dear dad to replace the unopened iPod from Christmas with a better one. So now, technically, I have my sixth iPod. Ridiculous. I wasn't really excited about it (it's my SIXTH!!) except for the fact that it's my first black one. That's kinda cool. I opened it at toyed with it a little, only to find that fingerprints and minor scratches were far more noticeable on this one than on the white ones. Oh well, price you pay to have a cool black iPod.

Anyway, we stopped at 7 Eleven to get my only meal of the day, which consisted of Ritz crackers, a Kit Kat Big Kat Bar, and a Dr. Pepper. Yum.

We got to Big Momma's pretty late and should've immediately crashed. Instead, as we usually do when extremely tired, T and I watched a movie. Bram Stoker's Dracula. It's a great film, even with its differences from the novel. I highly recommend it. In fact, I alluded to one of the main characters of the novel/film, Lucy, in a short story I wrote last year called "The Drifter".

So far the trip's going well. Got a Pod. Saw a flick. Ate some Ritz. Then there was church....

After going to bed around 3:30, T and I had to wake up at 9 for church. For some ungodly reason, Dad decided we needed to be up at 7, so he promptly burst into the room where we were sleeping peacefully and did... that thing he does when he wakes us up. He always starts by saying "RISE AND SHIIIIIIIIIIINE!!!!" followed by the single most agitating trumpet impression ever performed in the history of mankind. If we're not awake and plotting to off him by then, he tickles our feet. WTF. By now, I've gotta be awake, trying as best I can to "accidently" kick him as he tickles me so he'll stop. Even though I'm awake, however, he feels he must still go to the next level-- yanking the covers off so I freeze to death. Wonderful. At this point, I promptly leap out of bed in a fit of anger ranting about how immature his shinanigans are. Dad is never phased by my shouting though, because one can clearly see a smile on his face indicating that he had won. He got me out of bed in two minutes time, a feat only he could master.

After I'm up, I eat a small breakfast and get ready for the service. As we drove down, Dad began pointing at random bits of land, claiming it was ours. "From about heeeere to heeeeeeeeeeeeeere, is yours Robert," he insisted. "Ok Dad," I'd say quietly, still pissed about the feet-tickling. At this point I'm way too tired to question him about what I could possibly do with dozens of acres of abandoned grasslands and decaying forests. Not that I'm complaining. It's cool to have land I guess. Even in rural Virginia.

The church service started at 10am. It ended at 1:30. -_-

After church, we went to do what we came to VA to do in the first place. Celebrate Aunt Toots' birthday. Aunt Toots' is notorious for her driving. If you're in a nearby car, she can never be behind you. Always in front or passing. This is most likely a result of her not-so-good habit of going twice the speed limit. This isn't particularly uncommon in rural places. Everyone's a crazy speeder in VA. But Dad, T, and I were now heading to a restaraunt to celebrate Aunt Toots' NINETIETH birthday with the family. Now, when I watch old people drive on TV, they're very slow and cautious. Old people are supposed to hold up traffic. Not Aunt Toots. You may think I'm a pussy for being scared to have a 90-year-old drive me somewhere. If you were in my family, you wouldn't be.

For the celebration, we went to a Spaghetti & Steak House. Who the hell comes up with that combination?? Spaghetti and steak are nothing alike. They don't taste similar. You usually don't find them in the same restaraunts. And they don't go well together. But alas, here I was, looking at a menu where one side was exclusively Italian and the other was exclusively steak. Unbelievable. I chose not to question it and thoroughly enjoyed my filet mignon.

Dinner was rowdy as usual. Gradually, we noticed the number of white people in the restaurant dwindle until the entire restaurant was all black. They couldn't handle us. After a while, the restaraunt owner turned on the AC. We assumed they were trying to drive us out. Didn't work. Dad went up to them and made them turn it off. At one point, my uncle stood up and yelled at the top of his lungs "EVERYBODY STOP!!! Stop right now! I have an announcement! Robert is in a HIP HOP DANCE GROUP." I promptly buried my head in my hands as Big Momma and Aunt Toots uttered things "Robert can dance?" and "I thought he liked white music." Big Momma is ruthless. Gotta love her.

After we returned to Big Momma's house (har har) Dad made all of us watch his boring-ass video of his $500 helicopter ride over Hawaii (the island). I had to sit through a grueling half-an-hour of bad tour guide jokes and cute Hawaiian music. The only redeeming part of the film was the five seconds of lava moving around in the volcano crater. I also found it quite hilarious and unsurprising that the tour guide called all the passengers by their first names except for Dad, who he called "Dr. Lawson". After the video, my father quickly went into the kitchen to brag about his upcoming trip to Tobago.

We left three hours later than we said we would, which is to be expected. All in all, the trip was great. It's always good to get together with family and have some fun. Especially if that family is the one-of-a-kind Lawsons.