Friday, June 29, 2012

rugs of steel and storms.

it's been an interesting day.

so here's a list! YAY!

you totally weren't expecting that, were you.

1. when my alarm went off, i wanted to throw a knife at it. sarah walker/chuck style.
2. FUN FRIDAY. i've never been in that much pain doing a dolphin dart in my entire life.
3. nap ALL the time!
4. answer awkward questions about my ultrasound. because yes, that does involve sticking a wand up my vagina. and yes, i'm not mentally prepared for it.
5. credit union? my bank account is wayyyy happier than i thought it was.
6. go to the lake!

i didn't go to the lake in the traditional sense.

normally going to the lake is something like this.

don't pack until the last minute. find your swim bag. cram in a towel. which bikini do i want? does it truly matter? which one doesn't give me a wedgie?

my mom will yell "WE'RE LEAVING SOMEONE GRAB THE WATERMELON" and then i just kind of grab one out of my drawer.

and then it's running around, packing food, and heaven forbid we forget the veggie burgers, because i, the only vegetarian in all sides and dimensions of my family, need something to eat.

then it's an hour drive through the beautiful country of indiana.

did i say country of indiana? i mean the state of indiana, because indiana is country.

except where i live. and indianapolis. we're the only cities in the entire state, just about.

today was different.

my mother didn't know when we were leaving. i'm in my room endorsing my birthday checks because i don't have a single dollar in cash and my dad is like, COME ON WE SHOULD'VE LEFT HALF AN HOUR AGO

and my mom says all sleepily, huh? we're leaving? i need to make a salad.

we're very punctual people in my family. today just wasn't our day.

so i run into the credit union, and i'm staring at one of the tellers at my credit union, and i'm thinking, gee whiz, he really looks like that football player from middle school who's gained a lot of weight and is wearing a pink shirt.

i check his name tag.

totally that football player from middle school. and he's gained a lot of weight, has a beard, and is wearing a pink shirt.

i've changed a lot since middle school. this guy has no idea who the hell i am. which is just as well, i'd kind of like to forget who i was in middle school. just like you probably do too.

so he's working the drive thru, and i have to wait on this lady named christie. she's really nice and doesn't understand how i want my hundred dollars in cash to be dolled out. i really enjoy ten dollar bills, and i want five of them, and two twenties, and two fives. and i'm like, sorry, math isn't my strong suit, i'm not sure if that's right at all, and she's like, oh honey don't worry about it, did you want ten fives?

no. five tens, thanks. my parents are dying in our car in the parking lot because it's ninety-three degrees outside, can we move this along.

i did let that elderly woman go in front of me. i was being nice. sometimes being nice gets you crunched for time.

so then we're on our way, and i haven't checked my balance in a while, and i have SO much more money than i thought i did.

i perpetually pretend that i'm poor. then i don't buy stuff. it works great.

so we're heading out of town to the lake, which is an hour drive. and my phone goes off.


lion king. you're not surprised.

it's jacob. he's in michigan.

jacob: hi i'm heading to your house right now!
me: ... NO.
jacob: what?!
me: i'm leaving for the lake, i'm still in fort wayne. i won't be back until eight thirty.
jacob: oh. i'll just hang out in kalamazoo. until six.
me: um. i love you?

literally two minutes after this, hell is released.

all day it's been rather cloudy, which is decently nice, because it's ninety-three degrees (which is better than yesterday's one hundred and six). and we turn onto washington center road to take the country part of it to the indiana highway.

and we face this solid wall of storm.

indiana is in a severe drought. SEVERE. it hasn't rained since march. we're nine inches deficient in rain. there's a burn and firework ban on the entire state. i'll repeat this sentence: it has not rained in indiana since march.

so here's this storm. we're at a traffic light, and this storm is getting darker.

me: that looks nice!
my dad: rain! yay rain!

it was darker than this. i swear.

i'm excited. i like storms. and we have no intention of swimming at the lake, just eating dinner with my grandpa and seeing the new trailer, because we got a new one. the old one was from the eighties, or the seventies, or the fourteenth century, and we're excited to see it.

we're sitting at this traffic light in the country. and the wind starts picking up.

and then it's this full blown dust storm. and we're in my car (which is really my mom's) and then i start to panic a little bit. because i don't want dust damage. there are rocks swirling around. 

when it hasn't rained since march, what is else is the wind gonna pick up? 

dust and dead grass, yup. and rocks. lots of rocks.

so the light turns green and we move forward, and this HUGE blast of wind almost tips the car over, i swear. i'm excited and i'm taking this picture on my phone with instagram and i'm tweeting it. my dad has both hands on the wheel and my mom is completely freaking out.

worrying runs in our family. she thinks we're gonna die.

i think we're gonna die, but i'm too excited to be upset about it.

dust. rocks. swirling. we're driving by these country houses and all of their trees are like, practically tipping over and all of the lights have turned on inside of them, because i swear, it was like god turned off the light switch on indiana and was like, it's night time now, kids, with some seventy mile an hour gusts to make you happy.

scary. as. shit.

then it starts raining. and as soon as it starts, we have to pull over because there are two cops screaming down the road in the opposite direction.

somebody's already in trouble. it's been five minutes into this thunderstorm and somebody's already in trouble.

my mom wants my dad to pull over. the wind is menacing. it's dark as all get out. it's pouring down rain. she makes him turn on the windshield wipers all the way. he does it just appease her.

my dad can drive through anything. weather doesn't scare him.

then my mom starts to worry about people. did jessica make it back from the store? did my grandparents make it back from larwill? is everyone alive? is everyone okay?

i'm in the back with my phone and i'm like, seriously, guys, it's a storm.

well, it was a storm. when we got back from the lake (which it was sunny there most of the time. it moved on quickly.) there were a lot of down trees. storm damage. a missing billboard.

our rugs, which we had hung to dry over our porch railing, were just peachy, thank you very much. wet, but very much still attached to our porch.

billboard, pffft! you weak thing, you. we hollenbergs have bathroom rugs of steel.

so that's my storm story. we almost but maybe kind of might've died. my cousin and my grandparents were safe. my house doesn't have trees, so no downed trees for us!

and indiana got some rain. that's right folks, we got some rain.

but we still can't have fireworks to celebrate our freedom. because that's what freedom is about.

setting off fireworks in your backyard. nothing says freedom better than that.

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