The Annals of the Unemployed
Today is the two year anniversary of my short-lived Annals of the Unemployed. A vague predecessor to my present blogging, The Annals chronicled the absurdity of my post-collegiate existence to the general amusement of my former housemates. Within a matter of weeks, the Annals would be defunct; a whirlwind romance with its ineffable tenor made the project impracticable. Although the DRTEASE car never made it to print, my initial vertigo after leaving Wesleyan was captured with painful precision.
This particular series documents my woeful odyssey home following graduation. The plan was simple: Jimmy, Jesse, and I were to drive back to Utah using Jesse's car. Camp and hike in Zion. Treasure our last days together. Instead, I would be exiled on Block Island and my friendship with Jesse would be irrevocably destroyed. As I am about to embark on a parallel journal, I thought it was pertinent enough to reprint. And because 'nugless' must never be forgotten. Through the looking glass:
monday, may 24, 12:34 pm. m-town, ct - while waiting to say goodbye to a one jeremy levinn a large suburban pulls up to the one vine parking lot. enter mr. delia. mr. delia pulls me aside. 'listen... i just want you to know jessie's mother and i are very unhappy about this trip. i am not going to let anybody fuck with my daughter's itinerary.' after a minute tirade, i am unceremoniously thrust into the car as it pulls away. unnerved, i begin to cry profusely. after a half and hour, jessie unapologetically lets me know that her dad just needed to express his feelings. turbid, i stare out the car window. it can't get that much worse. that night i watch blue crush.
tuesday, may 25, 11:34 am. block island, ri - i emerge from a twelve hour slumber to see jessie on the phone. jimmy rolls his eyes. mr. delia has rescinded his offer to let us use his car for the road trip. he cites an earlier car accident on memorial day weekend as well as rising gas prices. apparently, mr. delia thought these concerns were not important enough to bring up say... anytime earlier than the last possible minute. i am thus marooned forty-five minutes off the east coast with all of my earthly possessions stranded in mr. levison's butterfield a dormicile. i stare out the house windows at the ocean. it can't get that much worse. i open a year-old mountain dew.
wednesday, may 26, 3:47 pm. block island, ri - i receive a phone call from my mother. on the way home, delta lost my luggage, including the suitcases carrying all of my clothing. my wardrobe correspondingly decreases to three white undershirts, two boxers, cords, and a pair of sandals. jessie tells me this could be a good time to practice detachment from material objects. i stare at my worn out corduroy pants. it can't get that much worse. 36 hours later i am in new jersey.
friday, may 28, 2:40 pm. heart of darkness, nj - citing prior car accident and possible traffic problems, the delias refuse to take me to jfk. instead they abandon me at a jersey train stop. a stranger offers me a donut. it is chocolate. seven and a half hours later i arrive at jfk where my bag of two dirty white shirts is examined for suspicious items.
saturday, may 29, 9:47 pm. slc, ut - howard jones' "things can only get better" plays on the radio. seconds later a passing motorist inquires if i have any 'nug' for the 'nugless' while miming the puffing on a joint.
monday, may 31, 1:34 pm. slc, ut - delta calls. my suitcases were last seen in san paolo, brazil. brushing a few crumbs off my white t-shirt, i ask if there is any possibility of compensation; perhaps, but it takes between 60 and 90 days to process. furrowing my brow, i scan the room for any traces of nug.
This particular series documents my woeful odyssey home following graduation. The plan was simple: Jimmy, Jesse, and I were to drive back to Utah using Jesse's car. Camp and hike in Zion. Treasure our last days together. Instead, I would be exiled on Block Island and my friendship with Jesse would be irrevocably destroyed. As I am about to embark on a parallel journal, I thought it was pertinent enough to reprint. And because 'nugless' must never be forgotten. Through the looking glass:
monday, may 24, 12:34 pm. m-town, ct - while waiting to say goodbye to a one jeremy levinn a large suburban pulls up to the one vine parking lot. enter mr. delia. mr. delia pulls me aside. 'listen... i just want you to know jessie's mother and i are very unhappy about this trip. i am not going to let anybody fuck with my daughter's itinerary.' after a minute tirade, i am unceremoniously thrust into the car as it pulls away. unnerved, i begin to cry profusely. after a half and hour, jessie unapologetically lets me know that her dad just needed to express his feelings. turbid, i stare out the car window. it can't get that much worse. that night i watch blue crush.
tuesday, may 25, 11:34 am. block island, ri - i emerge from a twelve hour slumber to see jessie on the phone. jimmy rolls his eyes. mr. delia has rescinded his offer to let us use his car for the road trip. he cites an earlier car accident on memorial day weekend as well as rising gas prices. apparently, mr. delia thought these concerns were not important enough to bring up say... anytime earlier than the last possible minute. i am thus marooned forty-five minutes off the east coast with all of my earthly possessions stranded in mr. levison's butterfield a dormicile. i stare out the house windows at the ocean. it can't get that much worse. i open a year-old mountain dew.
wednesday, may 26, 3:47 pm. block island, ri - i receive a phone call from my mother. on the way home, delta lost my luggage, including the suitcases carrying all of my clothing. my wardrobe correspondingly decreases to three white undershirts, two boxers, cords, and a pair of sandals. jessie tells me this could be a good time to practice detachment from material objects. i stare at my worn out corduroy pants. it can't get that much worse. 36 hours later i am in new jersey.
friday, may 28, 2:40 pm. heart of darkness, nj - citing prior car accident and possible traffic problems, the delias refuse to take me to jfk. instead they abandon me at a jersey train stop. a stranger offers me a donut. it is chocolate. seven and a half hours later i arrive at jfk where my bag of two dirty white shirts is examined for suspicious items.
saturday, may 29, 9:47 pm. slc, ut - howard jones' "things can only get better" plays on the radio. seconds later a passing motorist inquires if i have any 'nug' for the 'nugless' while miming the puffing on a joint.
monday, may 31, 1:34 pm. slc, ut - delta calls. my suitcases were last seen in san paolo, brazil. brushing a few crumbs off my white t-shirt, i ask if there is any possibility of compensation; perhaps, but it takes between 60 and 90 days to process. furrowing my brow, i scan the room for any traces of nug.
posted by d l wright at 5/23/2006 11:51:00 PM
2 Comments:
For some odd reason... your post made me do a google search about etiquette and start reading other horror stories.
Your story is still near the top. That has to be one of the most awesomely bad experiences I've ever heard about. I hope your next road trip is much, much better.
no DRTEASE?? Come on!!
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