Hejira

 

 

i'm dreaming

December 19. 2000

snow in Lebanon:

meow

Charkey

*

Boris

Boris covered with snow

*

porch

The back porch

*

lantern

Lantern

*

gazebo

The Gazebo

*

 

It was snowing, but I wasn't too worried. Just take it slow, I thought. And that was when it happened. I was only going about 35 on Route 72, where I think the speed limit was 45. I just lost control, and felt myself helplessly skidding off onto the shoulder, and halfway up the enbankment because I finally stopped.

I don't recall if I even made any sound as it was happening. I think I was too surprised. When I finally came to rest, I was panting, my heart was beating out of my chest, and there were tears of fright involuntarily leaking out of my eyes. I just sat there for a minute. The shoulder there was wide, so the cars continued by me as if nothing had happened. Boris (my parents' car) was halfway up the enbankment, so I carefully rolled off it and very slowly continued on my way. I hadn't been hurt, Boris was fine, but I was shaken. I ended up going about 15 miles an hour the rest of the way home, hands gripping the wheel tightly as I stared catatonically at the snowy road ahead. A long line of cars accumlated behind me as I crawled across town to home.

Now that I think of it, I was damn lucky that I slid the way I did, onto a place where the shoulder was wide enough, and that I didn't slide left into incoming traffic. Damn lucky that a car behind me didn't slide into me. I don't know if I'm making a big deal of this, but the feeling of being encased in a box of steel that is no longer in your control is very very scary.

*

Because of said snow, I am stuck in Lebanon tonight, which is something I was half planning on doing anyway. I had lunch with John Kuhn (my best friend from high school) at the Quentin Haus, the quintessential Pennsylvania Dutch restaurant, complete with chintzy decor, bible verses on the wall and an ample supply of Shoofly pie. I hadn't eaten yet that day, so I devoured a huge meal of mozzerella sticks, a reuben, french fries and a sawdust sundae. I eat like a snake these days - large amounts all at once, to store up for a few days.

I smoked one of John's Camels (which I'm paying for still), and we talked about our respective semesters and he updated me on where various people from high school were - x person is engaged, x person is married, x person is in rehab, x person is transferring. I told him of my tentative plans to go to Pittsburgh to visit him on spring break. I really want to visit him, and see Rachna, my best friend from Governor's School who's going through some rough times right now. I also want to see the Warhol museum, and possibly even make a trek out to Fallingwater, the Frank Lloyd Wright house, which I don't think is TOO far from Pittsburgh.

Anyway, it was driving home from John's house (we live on opposite ends of town) that I nearly got into the accident. Once I got home (it took me 50 minutes to get home, as opposed to the usual 15 to 20), quite shaken, I took a decongesant and promptly zonked out for a couple hours until my mother woke me my pressing a cold Coke to my face. I was immediately put to work helping with making cookies, and I drowsily unwrapped hershey's kisses for a while. The night was perfect, cookies baking, a million scented candles burning, the snow falling in the cold darkness outside.

One Year Ago:
"I thought college would give me the answers to the questions I had been asking all through high school, it in some ways it did, but college also made me ask a whole new set of questions."