Note: I started to write this blog a few weeks ago but since then, my emotions have been on a total roller coaster therefore I never got to finish it and honestly, my feelings towards this state is not so positive right now although I know that not all that live there are selfish ignoramuses who decided to vote for the horrendous Orange Ball of Shit. Sure, I believe that.
But I was there, and at that time, it was just turning from the vibrant colors of summer to the warmish tones of autumn. If you had no clue, I absolutely love this particular season. The very idea of sweaters, outerwear, scarves and fuzzy socks bring me to the edge of ecstasy...well it used to. Now, thanks to crossing over the threshold of a woman of reproductive age to, not so much, hot flashes have become my constant companion. I'm going to tell you men out there who may be reading this, if the females in your lives suffer the absolute chaos of peri-/menopause, please be kind to her. For real. Just support her. The first stages of this particular period (no pun intended) of life suck-eth and it's a true adjustment, physically as well as mentally.
Getting back to the point of this blog, I had a few days of PTO that needed to burned and instead of heading to the Blue Ridge Mountains, I decided to try something different. Pennsylvania seemed good enough with rolling land and absolutely scads of miles to drive without the annoyance of heavy traffic. Also armed with memories of a past where I had visited Lancaster to gawk at the Amish (who I'm sure appreciated it very much indeed), I hopped into the car after work on a random Wednesday evening. I should have known that nothing, and I mean nothing, is ever so smooth in this area.
For those who also may not know which geographic area I reside, I'm in the DMV (District of Columbia, Maryland and Virginia) area. The trip should have been maybe 1.5 hours +/- here and there. But was it? That's the burning question. No. It took damn near 2.5+ hours. And them rolling land? It was pitch dark as soon as I hit the main road that would lead me to where I was going so those lands were lurking in the background somewhere.
By the time I got into the small town of York to meet folks for dinner, I was at the point of saying, "why did I do this?" but after a few drinks, okay-ish food and music that was way too loud for the pub/restaurant that was chosen, my mood was swinging upwards.
The next morning, I woke up, got dressed and eager to hit the road to explore. But first, breakfast. I found what seemed like a pretty popular spot called "Round the Clock Diner". It wasn't too crowded which I admit I was thankful for as I'm not a huge fan of crowds. Here's where being a brown person in a place that is predominantly white comes is just...uncomfortable and NOT imagined.
As I was lead to the booth I would inhabit, I felt eyes on me. Was it imagined? You may think so but I saw far too many curious eyes on myself. I'd like to think it was because I'm so beautiful that I took everyone's collective breathes away but nay, that likely was not it. Sitting down, I decided to shake it off and just focus on enjoying myself. After all it wasn't often I got out to do things alone like this. The waitress was nice enough.
Ordering, I did what other "table for one" diners would do, stare at my phone. The food was indeed what I expected, tasty so as I dug into my single pancake with a side of eggs and turkey bacon, loud animated voices began to distract. It wasn't until the curious statement "I don't want them to..." pulled my attention into focus.
What I heard was a whole ass conversation about conservatism, how it was the best way to live, how the liberals...blah blah blah...nothing new heard...and how the country needed to go back to traditional values. I finally snuck a look. It was my waitress. The one I said was nice enough, and she was...to me...in front of me. I didn't want to start to conspire that she was speaking just that loudly knowing I was within earshot, I refuse to give into that sort of paranoia, but it was hard not to wonder.
Finishing up, this was the sort of place where you paid at the register and let me tell you, the biddy at the register gave me the same look one would give a cockroach that clearly deserved to be squashed. I left sad, as I often am in these situations, which I have encountered before many, many times, unfortunately.
The rest of the day was spent avoiding people other then the Amish market that I stopped by. They were all lovely.
Look, now it's approximately...like a lot of weeks since I went to PA. I tried to write but have been finding it more or less impossible since my bitterness towards that particular state stings my tongue. I shouldn't, I know, and I appreciate those who did try to swing the state blue but...yeah I can't write about that place anymore...or at least not now.
This was a weird blog, I know. I was trying to find some normalcy in my writing, maybe post something once a week. No doubt I overestimated my stamina, moreover my sense of discipline, which I have zero. Where has the love of stories and words gone to? What happened to me? Where is my voice?
Have a good one while I ponder these questions.
