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beetigerSince I was already planning to leave from Boston, and since a carload of people is more interesting than a car without company, and since I wanted to make sure that at least a few people attended the panel on Furry as an identity category, I drove to Star Market and loaded up the Camry with some of the finest selection of Boston furs, and pointed the car west. ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
verse immediately started to feel carsick, and apparently I was upset that I was having trouble hearing postrodent talk, as I kept trying to turn up the volume on the car radio to hear qer better. We couldn't find any Dramamine to help verse out at our first rest stop, and the Boston Chicken we found ended up somehow causing me some immediate digestive problems that meant a bit of an extra emergency stop, but we finally arrived the Central Inn in New Britain, the only place to stay in the whole town, I think. At $50 a night for a room with a king-sized bed, I didn't even care if they didn't replace the used disposable glasses for us when we were there. It was almost cheaper than the two Harvard parking tickets I'd already managed to acquire earlier in the day.
The conference was on a college campus just one local highway exit from the hotel so it was no trouble to get there. It took a while to find the actual conference, as the organizers had neglected to actually specify which building on this mostly-deserted campus they'd be in. We eventually found the poorly-attended cookies-and-soda mixer, and had a mellow good time hanging out with each other and some of the organizers until they kicked us out of the room. Getting back to the hotel was not trivial. To start with, we'd taken an odd route through campus. The highway entrances were pretty hidden and highly assymmetrical, so that it seemed the exit for the hotel actaully fell south of the North entrance, and north of the South entrance, and there was also a risk of sneaking off the small highway on to other small highways without noticing. We just kept exiting and turning around for the better part of an hour before finding our way back.
We snuck out on Saturday after our furry panel, and thank goodness that we only had to turn around twice to figure out how to get back on to Route 84, and once in the NY section of the directions, so that we got to the spanikopita and zabliagione and margaritas with hottubbing Unitarians event only about a half hour late, and even with the majority of our facepaint washed off. My eyes were tired from the unaccustomed contact lenses I'd bought the day before, and the steam, by the time we headed back.
No one was left on campus when we got there around midnight, though we'd promised to check. But I guess that driving off campus that late in a car with out of state plates and a missing hubcap, then swerving a bit so as not to get on the highway the wrong direction, attracted the attention of the local campus police, and the next thing I knew I'd been cornered into a dead end with flashing lights. It took them a while to take my paperwork, and to tell me I'd been swerving. By the time they called in the second police car with real police, and were calling in all of my paperwork loudly on the radio, I was pretty sure that although I was driving fine except for the exhaustion and confusion, that my BAC at 2 drinks and 120 pounds, three hours earlier, was perhaps not zero, and that I was going to get called in for DUI and as such, lose my severance pay from the alcoholic beverage company that had just laid me off earlier that week. After about half an hour total, I was given my papers, a good night, and bad directions back to the highway. After a bit more driving around confused , and since I thought it unwise to turn around near campus, we hit that special hour in the night that combined with the right stress level in which it seemed just right to rename the New Britain environs “Hell Chunk, CT” and my usual level of intelligent vitriol was reduced to describing the police as “motherfucking fucker fuckers”.
The drive back to Boston was moderately uneventful, though the ride back to Harvard from verse's was perhaps not via the very best route, and the one hour parking meter choice for overnight parking meant crawling out of bed not much after I'd finally fallen into it. I took a reprieve from parking tickets by sneaking my car up to Arlington for the bulk of the next day, but still managed to both do the meter wakeup dance and collect another Harvard ticket on Monday through exquisitely bad luck and timing. Not only that, last night I got myself inexplicably lost on the way to choir practice. I think my car needs some sort of an exorcism or recalibration or something. Anyone have a good recipe for magical AAA oil?
verse immediately started to feel carsick, and apparently I was upset that I was having trouble hearing postrodent talk, as I kept trying to turn up the volume on the car radio to hear qer better. We couldn't find any Dramamine to help verse out at our first rest stop, and the Boston Chicken we found ended up somehow causing me some immediate digestive problems that meant a bit of an extra emergency stop, but we finally arrived the Central Inn in New Britain, the only place to stay in the whole town, I think. At $50 a night for a room with a king-sized bed, I didn't even care if they didn't replace the used disposable glasses for us when we were there. It was almost cheaper than the two Harvard parking tickets I'd already managed to acquire earlier in the day.The conference was on a college campus just one local highway exit from the hotel so it was no trouble to get there. It took a while to find the actual conference, as the organizers had neglected to actually specify which building on this mostly-deserted campus they'd be in. We eventually found the poorly-attended cookies-and-soda mixer, and had a mellow good time hanging out with each other and some of the organizers until they kicked us out of the room. Getting back to the hotel was not trivial. To start with, we'd taken an odd route through campus. The highway entrances were pretty hidden and highly assymmetrical, so that it seemed the exit for the hotel actaully fell south of the North entrance, and north of the South entrance, and there was also a risk of sneaking off the small highway on to other small highways without noticing. We just kept exiting and turning around for the better part of an hour before finding our way back.
We snuck out on Saturday after our furry panel, and thank goodness that we only had to turn around twice to figure out how to get back on to Route 84, and once in the NY section of the directions, so that we got to the spanikopita and zabliagione and margaritas with hottubbing Unitarians event only about a half hour late, and even with the majority of our facepaint washed off. My eyes were tired from the unaccustomed contact lenses I'd bought the day before, and the steam, by the time we headed back.
No one was left on campus when we got there around midnight, though we'd promised to check. But I guess that driving off campus that late in a car with out of state plates and a missing hubcap, then swerving a bit so as not to get on the highway the wrong direction, attracted the attention of the local campus police, and the next thing I knew I'd been cornered into a dead end with flashing lights. It took them a while to take my paperwork, and to tell me I'd been swerving. By the time they called in the second police car with real police, and were calling in all of my paperwork loudly on the radio, I was pretty sure that although I was driving fine except for the exhaustion and confusion, that my BAC at 2 drinks and 120 pounds, three hours earlier, was perhaps not zero, and that I was going to get called in for DUI and as such, lose my severance pay from the alcoholic beverage company that had just laid me off earlier that week. After about half an hour total, I was given my papers, a good night, and bad directions back to the highway. After a bit more driving around confused , and since I thought it unwise to turn around near campus, we hit that special hour in the night that combined with the right stress level in which it seemed just right to rename the New Britain environs “Hell Chunk, CT” and my usual level of intelligent vitriol was reduced to describing the police as “motherfucking fucker fuckers”.
The drive back to Boston was moderately uneventful, though the ride back to Harvard from verse's was perhaps not via the very best route, and the one hour parking meter choice for overnight parking meant crawling out of bed not much after I'd finally fallen into it. I took a reprieve from parking tickets by sneaking my car up to Arlington for the bulk of the next day, but still managed to both do the meter wakeup dance and collect another Harvard ticket on Monday through exquisitely bad luck and timing. Not only that, last night I got myself inexplicably lost on the way to choir practice. I think my car needs some sort of an exorcism or recalibration or something. Anyone have a good recipe for magical AAA oil?
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Date: 2002-10-09 12:31 pm (UTC):)
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Date: 2002-10-09 12:48 pm (UTC)no subject