This past Saturday/Sunday, my family went on vacation for the first time in four years. (One short vacation every four years really is what we average, but as you will see, we cram so much into those two days we’re happy to stay at home for a while.)
We got up super early and drove five hours across the state to go to a football game at the college my sister and her best friend want to go to. They’re both juniors right now; Sara is hoping to make the majorette line in the band, and one of the motives of this trip was to see said band and majorettes. We drove around the campus and the college town, trying to take it all in..
There was an ulterior motive, which I guess was not so ulterior as my mom came out and said, ‘Let’s try and find reasons to make Sara and Abbey not want to go here.’
I go to a small, private college with no football team or greek life, so this large, state school football culture was completely foreign to me. Tailgating? What is this tailgating?
I wondered what it would be like to be one of the thousands standing and cheering in the student section. (GSU! Fight! Fight! Fight! and Whose house? Our house!) Or in a few years, one of the graduates with my baby in its GSU onesie or GSU socks or tiny GSU cheerleader uniform.
I missed band for a few minutes, until I felt the sweat soaking through my t-shirt and shorts and imagined wearing that wool uniform in the 95 degree heat. And then I wondered, if it was 95 degrees in September, what was it during band camp a month ago?
It was such a good game! So close!! Won by a field goal in the last minute! I have finally grown to love and more-or-less understand the game of football. For the first 15 minutes, I am very into it. After that, my interest usually wanes, but not so much this time. There was so much going on around us, including the crazy intense yelling fans. My favorite things that were shouted include “Sit him down! Sit his *** down!!”, “C’mon, you’re playing a bunch of Yankees!” (the opposing team was from Albany, NY), and “I smell blood!”..It was definitely an experience like no other.
I can’t see myself there, and I know that my school was the right choice for me..But I think it might be a good fit for Sara and Abbey..They like to have fun, and they would. They like to make fun of people, and they would have plenty of opportunities. Yeah, I would worry like crazy about their crazy selves, but I think they would be okay.
Sunday, we headed an hour down the road to Savannah. I didn’t take any pictures in Savannah, for a couple of reasons. 1. I didn’t want to look any more like the ubiquitous tourists than I already did. 2. Since I’m going to be living there in a year, I’ll have loads of photo opportunities.
Oh, didn’t I tell you that I’m moving to Savannah? Only partially kidding. I really probably will apply for jobs there, and depending on how the job hunt goes..who knows? I love, love, love this city. (Plus, it would be really convenient for Sara and Abbey to come stay with me on weekends and have somebody they know closer than 5 hours away..)
So the girls and the mother and I spent a whirlwind 2 or 3 hours walking the squares, River Street, and so on while the brother (celebrating his 18th birthday–oh my goodness, my baby brother is 18!) and the father visited the nearby Air Force museum (Wesley wants to join the Air Force after he graduates this year). Seeing as it was Sunday morning, not many shops were open, but we did manage to get some candy (pineapple rock candy=my new favorite), and we visited Cafe GelatOhhh!, Savannah’s only gelateria (according to its brochure), where I had some gelato that was as good as Italy’s!!! Which further cemented my resolution to move to Savannah after I graduate. When I live in Savannah, I am going to go to Cafe GelatOhhh! until I’ve tried all of their flavors of gelato and all of their paninis, which all sounded really, really good. And I am going to have to run, run, run it all off around the squares.
I’m really going to have to run after I start using my souvenir:
Of course, once I move there, I’ll get to eat at her restaurant, but until then, Paula Deen’s cookbook will be a good substitute. Here are the recipes I’ve marked that I want to try so far:
I have to buy a lot of butter..
After the boys picked us up, we headed out to Tybee Island to stick our feet in the ocean for a few minutes. I do the beach very well with a full day and some preparation, which we didn’t have; the girls did fairly well, with bikinis but no towels; my parents were wearing jeans and tennis shoes…The last time I went to the beach with my family was the summer I was 10 and we went to Charleston. I remember us walking on the beach one night; it was the only time I’ve seen my dad wear shorts in public.
After that we loaded back up and headed home..and drove…and drove..and drove..My brother wanted to eat at Steak ‘N Shake for his birthday, and it was 8:00 before we found one, nearly in Atlanta..We pulled into the driveway around 11, and I can’t account for everybody else, but I know I rolled into bed for 12 hours..
So–marathon entry for a marathon couple of days..I’m wore out just from writing/reliving it all..