Don’t Tell A Soul

Sent 12:48 AM
Me: I think I’ve had my fill of disneyland for a long time
L: LOL it’s a small small world
Me: Its a big fat ppl world and they all have doublewide strollers

Sent 1:02 AM
Me: OMFG couple with matching crocs cellphone holder necklaces
Me: Don’t let me forget that for my blog

Sent 2:01 AM
Me: Back at hotel which has no food anywhere after midnight
Me: I’ve decided everything in cali south of la sucks
Me: And maybe north too
Me: My face is red; did I get a sunburn or am I just indignant?
L: Ur Irish
Me: Ah, ok, so both

Recollections of a young woman upon her return from visiting family in Western Massachusetts 

Kevin vacuming the cat; I could watch that video all day. Crunchy towels. Bees nest in the basement, be careful going outside. Red Rose lasagna, and Pajer’s grinders. Friendly’s. Foliage in Vermont. Bash Bish Falls. Drive to NY with two ten-year-old boys in the car who know I “won’t put up with any shit” and will “turn this fucking car around”. Knightsville Dam. Ski lift and alpine slide. The Virgin Mary of East Springfield. Pictures of people who think they see baby jesus in the streaks on a magical window. Whiskey sours. BBQ chicken and cheesy potatoes at Auntie Lissa’s. Photo albums at my grandparent’s new condo. My mom: nothing but a pretty blue vase of ashes buried in the dry dirt? The rose headstone looks beautiful and I brought the flowers you like. Am I talking to nothing? Dad’s birthday. Marble cake, and the presidential debate. No need for a drinking game with this crowd. Lisa, come with me, he won’t ask me for the money if you’re there. Katie’s birthday too- Max’s Tavern, and it couldn’t have gone better. Number of times John Couger Mellancamp was heard on Rock 102: 4. Number of times it was “Jack and Diane”: 2. Ah, the big suburban grocery stores, with their wide aisles and superior variety of selections. Lots of fat people, and grown women in pajama bottoms. At least the men don’t wear Crocs here. One-way streets, and narrow roads. Every one’s car is a piece of shit. California doesn’t exist. G—– doesn’t exist. Boston never existed, I must have never left because nothing has ever changed.

I was supposed to fly out yesterday, but I didn’t go. Maybe if I were really supposed to go, it wouldn’t be so damned hard to get there.

Whenever I plan a trip back to Springfield, it’s with mixed emotions. I’m excited to see my family, and the one friend I have left there, but it’s also so damn depressing.

It really is a sad, strange place. You’ve got small towns, small minds, two-lane highways, and pickup trucks. Count how many times you hear “Jack and Diane” on the radio, it’s like a game. But the small towns surround one of the worst cities gone wrong I’ve ever seen. I bet you’ve never even heard of Springfield Mass., but did you know it’s the 32nd most dangerous city in America? 3000 miles away, I almost dropped my morning coffee the day I heard that on CNN.

I’ve been fortunate in my life to have traveled to some of America’s largest cities. But in downtown Springfield, I won’t even get out of my car. It’s even dangerous in the car- I thought I was about to get carjacked once from the parking lot of Store24 in the South End while my brother was inside buying phone cards. Later that night, we were slowly driving up Main St., slowly because people kept walking in front of the car.

“What the fuck is the matter with these people?” There are crosswalks, and corners, and traffic lights- why don’t people use them?

“You have to be careful,” my brother said, “they want you to hit them. That’s how they get money.” 

I’m flying back to the east coast in a couple of weeks. Keep your fingers crossed for me that Northwest doesn’t go bankrupt, or fail some massive FAA inspection. At least not before I get there and back.

I bought the tickets months ago and, of course, they’re first class. A lot of people find this a ridiculous extravagance but, to me, it’s a necessity. I like to be comfortable when I fly. Maybe it would be different if it were a shorter flight, or if I weren’t alone… or maybe I’m just a spoiled bitch, who thinks she’s special.

But there’s something to be said for a hot meal, and people being extra polite to you. I can watch DVDs on my laptop without the guy in front of me lowering his seat so far back that I can’t open the screen all the way. If I’m not squeezed in with the proletariat, there’s less chance some uncouth bitch sitting behind me will take it upon herself to use my armrest as her ottoman. Oh, don’t get me started on the shared armrest…

I can’t believe I was in western Mass. for a month, and I didn’t see a single person I went to high school with. I kept thinking that, any minute now, I’d come barreling down the aisle at Big Y, and bump into someone I once knew. Maybe I’d see an old boyfriend stopped at a red light, or share an elevator at Mercy with someone I hated in 1992.

It was weird to be back in Springfield, with its intriguing mix of the redneck and the thugged-out. I listened to a lot of Rock 102, and spent a lot of time cursing that Garmin doesn’t let you set an Avoidance for “ghetto”. At least they have a Starbucks now, and multiple Indian restaurants, which is more than can be said for the last time I lived there. It’s always nice to be back at first, to visit the places I missed, but I never see anyone I knew. There’s lots of people I’m curious about too! Like, did that girl that my Mom always told me would end up a cashier really do that, or is she a stripper now? What did our valedictorian do after Harvard? And what does that guy who was so hot in high school look like now?

It amazes me how many people are not on the Internet. What happened, did you do absolutely nothing with your lives? You never signed up for a blog, or received even the slightest mention in the college newspaper? How do you live in such obscurity that even Google can’t find you? I was so ready to see you all too, so ready to drop into your lives for a moment, just to satisfy my curiosity, and to be sure to mention I was just visiting. Too bad you missed me.