Miss Smart: I’m not nervous about meeting everyone. I’ve already met your parents.
The Professor: That’s good.
Miss S: I am, however, nervous about the clothing situation. What are we going to do? Are there any special circumstances for which I might need anything unusual? Anything I might not be prepared for?
The P: Nope. Nah. No
Miss S: OK, then.
(30 minutes later, as Miss Smart’s thinking she can zip up the suitcase.)
The P: We might go kayaking.
::Palm to forehead.::
Miss Smart: See, THAT is the kind of thing I need to be prepared for.
And so began our travels to The Professor’s home state of New York. (Home STATE, please note. There is more to New York than that city. Like apples. There are good apples in New York.)
Travels that were blessed with free brownies from Starbucks, saved from the depths of food waste because they hadn’t been purchased and were still perfectly good (and unwrapped).
And a Miss Smart-style stocked fridge full of specially purchased yogurts and a whole tub of cut watermelon than I was told to eat all by myself. (Hello, hospitality!)
There was also plenty of peanut butter and raspberries for me to make a 4AM, pre-flight peanut butter and raspberry sandwich set.
Miss S: Look! I made sandwiches with the bread you threw away before we left but I took out of the trashcan and brought with me until just this moment when I could passive-aggressively remind you that it annoys me when perfectly good food gets thrown away. [See: Brownies from Starbucks.]
The P: I thought it would be all moldy by the time we got back.
Miss S: Well, now we’ve learned THAT lesson, haven’t we?
Speaking of bread, we learned on Saturday night at The Professor’s parents’ 40th anniversary party that The Professor’s brother is a secret master baker of VERY delicious–and apparently I have to show you the ‘cut’ picture because, according to him, that’s what really gets the food pornographers going–bread.
It was after only 2 1/2 glasses of wine that I realized he should be called the BRO-fessor.
The P (via text) So, should we order veggie lasagna or eggplant rollatini?
Miss S (thinking): WTF? Is he making up words? Is he trying to trick me?
Miss S (via text): I’ve always wanted to try rollatini.
Rollatini. Totally a real thing.
Also a real thing? The dreams my taste buds were having about the blue cornbread and maple butter at Empire Brewing Company, where we went to dinner on Sunday night.
It was good enough to distract me from the fact that calling a seven bean-and-seven vegetable soup a fourteen vegetable soup is sort of false advertising. I mean, sure, maybe legumes are vegetables, but I’m just saying, that was a lot of beans. And I and my digestive system were staying with company.
Also, Manhattan Clam Chowder is apparently made with shrimp and okra and called gumbo in New York. I’m not saying this is a bad thing. I just want you to know next time you go to order it.
*Yes, I AM from Pennsylvania originally.
Another thing you should do? Eat animal crackers with wine. Genius. (Although I’m still having trouble understanding why the giraffe is all neck and no head.)
Somehow, The Professor and I managed to wake up at 3AM (Central) on Monday, fly home as the sun rose, and get to the classes we had to teach on time.
I’ve decided this may actually be the best way to to say goodbye to such a fun weekend, because you are in such a fog of diminished awareness that you don’t have to time to be sad about what you are leaving behind.
I’m in a New York state of mind….?
(It totally rhymed.)