Monday, January 1

New Year's Eve in the Kingdom

"Dear God, I know I haven't been the best servant since my parents wrenched me out of the sacred sanctuary of my Catholic grade school and planted me in the grim bowels of the Louisiana public school system, but please, please, God, please let me live through the next ten minut... Wait... How odd, I don't believe in God... I can't believe I'm praying right now... Do I believe in God?... Oh, what the hey, I'll try anything... Dear God, please let me live through this car ride.... Please let me feel the comforting, icy cold embrace of the ground once more... I'll do anything You want... I'll pay more attention to the Big Ten... It's ten, right God?... I'll stop using Agent Yellow's hairbrush when she's in the other room... I'll... I'll... I'll become a Republican and buy an SUV... Say but the word, God!"

Agent Yellow and I survived New Year's Eve in Vermont's Northeast Kingdom, but just barely. Suffice it to say that riding in the rear-facing back seats of a 1992 Toyota Carina station wagon through unmarked, icy back country roads is a trip I will never take again. After the ride was the first time I have ever kissed the ground beneath my feet in a totally serious, non-dramatic way. I am very happy to be alive right now. Happy New Year? It's Happy New Minute for me.

The Agent and I met up with five '06-ers at our friend's apartment in the Kingdom. From there we awaited midnight at a Hawaiian-themed party in the extremely well-heated basement of a wooden house in the middle of nowhere. The ages of the scantily-clad revelers ranged from 18 to 50. Everyone knew everyone, everyone was attractive in a very Vermont-health sort of way, and the mind-altering substances flowed like God's grace during my Carina car ride. Somehow I felt out of place with my long johns, undershirt, waffle shirt, sweatshirt, and mouth full of Our Fathers.

In other news, I received this e-mail from my mom, the big winner, this morning. I hope she'll forgive me for sharing it:

I'd like either an ode or a clerihew. You choose. I CAN'T BELIEVE I WON!!!! This may be the best day of my life.Love, M


Anonymous said...

Your mom is awesome. Maybe this year she will post on your blog.

Melanie said...

As a lover of verse, I am fond of interesting or humorous forms of it. [I wrote part of an English paper in iambic pentameter when my professor - and advisor - caught me writing poetry during one of those "core 200" courses - read: boring - she was teaching. She asked me if I was going to write the assignment that way. I said "yes" and she groaned, kind of doubting it. *Never* doubt my word! (No pun intended!)]

I admit to complete naivette on this type your mom has requested! *blinking owlishly at "clerihew". Nope, never had met the thing before, so here's the link for others who are equally as clueless but won't admit it!

Glad you made it through the NE Kingdom New Years experience. Now go mark that on your wall of peculiar experiences! You've already got your story out of it!!


~ Melanie