When I wake from my tequila-induced stupor, there are hershey wrappers all over me and half-finished cookie dough on the coffee table. My eyes feel dry and dusty as if sand has been thrown at me and I feel like I've been hit by a semi-truck then left to die in my apartment which carries the stench of a drunken hobo. My mom is snoring on the couch, so I look at her for a moment, then stand up in search of my laptop. I think I need a vacation...
The laptop buzzes alive and the bright lights make me squint as my headache worsens. First I check my email which is clogged with notifications from places I used to shop when I could afford it. Then, I google: how to plan a vacation. A wiki page comes up with a list of things and I scan the page for anything relevant to me.
Research, research, research.
Fill up the suitcases.
Be prepared for certain situations.
Decide what form of transportation you're taking.
Estimate the total cost of your vacation.
Without a clear direction or idea, I decide to give up for now and opt for a relaxing bubble bath. Just as the foamy bubbles are caressing my neck and the warm water is soothing my hangover, I hear my mother call for me. I duck my head beneath the water as she swings open the bathroom door complaining about the window I’d left open on my laptop. I held my breath for as long as I could, in one of those moments where you desperately pray that if you don’t acknowledge the person, they’ll go away. Of course, this never works with mothers, who often find a way, like no one else can, to get under the skin of their children.
“Yonnie, get up from the water! Are you listening to me? I do NOT want you going off on a trip at a time like this! I just got here and we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Yonnie!”
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” I hop up from my comforting bubble bath and snatch a towel from the shower curtain rod. “I just want to relax and do nothing! Can’t you understand that? I just want to stretch and exhale and stretch and exhale and... and...” I look at my mother’s face and it reads a story of hurt and disappointment. She tightens her lip like she’s thinking of what to say next, but she mumbles, “It’s your life, Yonnie” and leaves me shivering in my soggy, cotton towel.
…
My mom doesn’t speak to me much for the rest of that day so out of guilt i decide to walk to the liquor store to buy a small bottle of Chardonnay as an apology for my outburst in the bubble bath. On my way though, I see a guy leaning against the bowling alley, a place i’ve never been, who catches my attention. He’s chewing on an energy bar and I squint at his name tag which reads “Spartacus”. First, I chuckle, but then when I notice he’s looking back at me, I look away and wipe the smile from my face. When I look at him again, he’s still looking at me, except he’s not. He’s picked a spot in front of him and he’s zoning out. The spot just so happens to be my face. He must be a loner too. I walk on to the liquor store and purchase Chardonnay as a half bribery half apology.
The laptop buzzes alive and the bright lights make me squint as my headache worsens. First I check my email which is clogged with notifications from places I used to shop when I could afford it. Then, I google: how to plan a vacation. A wiki page comes up with a list of things and I scan the page for anything relevant to me.
Research, research, research.
Fill up the suitcases.
Be prepared for certain situations.
Decide what form of transportation you're taking.
Estimate the total cost of your vacation.
Without a clear direction or idea, I decide to give up for now and opt for a relaxing bubble bath. Just as the foamy bubbles are caressing my neck and the warm water is soothing my hangover, I hear my mother call for me. I duck my head beneath the water as she swings open the bathroom door complaining about the window I’d left open on my laptop. I held my breath for as long as I could, in one of those moments where you desperately pray that if you don’t acknowledge the person, they’ll go away. Of course, this never works with mothers, who often find a way, like no one else can, to get under the skin of their children.
“Yonnie, get up from the water! Are you listening to me? I do NOT want you going off on a trip at a time like this! I just got here and we’ve got a lot of catching up to do. Yonnie!”
“Can’t you just leave me alone?” I hop up from my comforting bubble bath and snatch a towel from the shower curtain rod. “I just want to relax and do nothing! Can’t you understand that? I just want to stretch and exhale and stretch and exhale and... and...” I look at my mother’s face and it reads a story of hurt and disappointment. She tightens her lip like she’s thinking of what to say next, but she mumbles, “It’s your life, Yonnie” and leaves me shivering in my soggy, cotton towel.
…
My mom doesn’t speak to me much for the rest of that day so out of guilt i decide to walk to the liquor store to buy a small bottle of Chardonnay as an apology for my outburst in the bubble bath. On my way though, I see a guy leaning against the bowling alley, a place i’ve never been, who catches my attention. He’s chewing on an energy bar and I squint at his name tag which reads “Spartacus”. First, I chuckle, but then when I notice he’s looking back at me, I look away and wipe the smile from my face. When I look at him again, he’s still looking at me, except he’s not. He’s picked a spot in front of him and he’s zoning out. The spot just so happens to be my face. He must be a loner too. I walk on to the liquor store and purchase Chardonnay as a half bribery half apology.
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