Heading home from Trader Joe's, purpleglitter spotted a snapping turtle in the opposite lane, cars zooming around it. She attempted to pull over immediately, however an ambulance behind us boomed its horn when she attempted to slow down and there really wasn't a curb at that point to pull onto. The ambulance had neither its sirens nor its flashing lights on and appeared content to travel along with the normal flow of traffic.

About 150 feet away, there was a good bit of curb and purpleglitter pulled onto it. I ran over to see if the turtle was still okay. I was glad to see that someone had stopped in front of it, blocking traffic in that direction. She had attempted to move the turtle, but it had lunged at her and she backed off. The turtle was quite large and quite angry, it definitely didn't want to be messed with. I stood behind it while the other person stood in front to keep it distracted. I grabbed the turtle by its sides and picked it up. That really pissed it off. It flailed its short legs and lunged its head at me, attempted to reach my hands with its formidable beak.

There was a small lake across the road, which I assume is where it came from as it had clearly recently been in water. I crossed over the guard rail and walked down the incline to the lake. I didn't want to simply set the turtle down, because I was worried it would use the opportunity to exact revenge on me. So, I squatted down by the edge of the lake and gently threw the turtle in. Even though the drop was a short one, I waited to see it swim off before I climbed back to the road.

I had left my purse with person who had blocked traffic, and upon retrieving it I headed back toward purpleglitter's car. purpleglitter was walking towards me already and we met halfway, smiled, and went home.

stolen from many:

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Inland North You may think you speak "Standard English straight out of the dictionary" but when you step away from the Great Lakes you get asked annoying questions like "Are you from Wisconsin?" or "Are you from Chicago?" Chances are you call carbonated drinks "pop."
The South
The Midland
The Northeast
Philadelphia
The West
Boston
North Central
What American accent do you have?

purpleglitter dropped me off by Lower Mystic Lake on her way to work and I had a good half-hour walk home. Next time she want to drop me off by the marina on Upper Mystic Lake; which I think sounds great, however I want to have a battery for my camera first. The Mystic Lakes are an area of Arlington I haven't really explored yet, and I think it's about time I do.

I've had some interesting dreams recently. The night before last, I dreamed I was on a holodeck. I kept switching through setting, but I was changing more than my environment. I was not only trying on different clothing, but different bodies. However, at some point I stopped changing and the room began changing more like a standard Star Trek holodeck. The finally room I was in was filled with shallow wooden boxes with large amounts of baby budgies. They were all blue and just getting their feathers in. They were pulling themselves from box to box, in the baby-budgie head-first method of locomotion. I was in a happy place.

Last night, I dreamed I was in a maze of a house. There was a strange man in whiteface who was running the place. The house was so large that it had a lake and a hill with cars. It was almost a village in a house. There was something wrong, a sinister air. I felt compelled to investigate what that wrong was. I followed these streams of crusty liquid up the hill and found an old stationwagon that had rusted with the years. purpleglitter was with me then and at that point had been with me on my explorations in the house even though she hadn't been with me earlier in the dream. We got in the car and I was able to start it. There was a road at the top of the hill; and after driving a short distance, we realized we were on the outskirts of Moscow. We drove back to the hilltop and looked down. There was the house and all it's trapping that we had departed. I concluded that there was some sort of portal to Moscow at the top of the hill. purpleglitter and I decided to drive around and explore the outskirts of Moscow. purpleglitter's cell phone miraculously worked and we called zarthon who told us we ought not be traveling around through portals willy-nilly and should head back at once. But we ignored him. Who was driving kept switching seamlessly in the dream, sometimes it was purpleglitter sometimes it was me. The controls on the car ended up locking up and we skidded into a ditch. It faded out after that.

Somewhere in last nights dreams purpleglitter and I were in a bank trying to stop a $2500 transaction from her account to a con artist. The bank was entirely bureaucratic and unhelpful, and we felt as if we were fighting against time. They kept asking invasive questions that had nothing to do with banking. Odd randomness. Why must bureaucracy even invade my dreams?

gacked from kyrene:

How Spoiled Are You?

( long survey )

Again, we got lost going to Plattsburgh. We ended up driving around for hours on lonely highways populated mainly by moose. By 3:00am we had found our way onto the correct highway, however we believed we had missed the last ferry across Lake Champlain, so we rented a hotel room on the Vermont side of the lake. In the morning, we discovered that the ferry run 24 hours a day.

In Plattsburgh, riga_mortia and I said some very melancholy goodbyes before we parted ways. I hope that isn't going to be the last I see of her. I don't plan or want it to be. I'm going to go up to visit, hopefully in December or January.

On the way back to Boston, purpleglitter and I finally purchased a mapbook. We're always getting lost going to Plattsburgh. We consistently miss the exit from 93 North to 89 North at White River Junction. Why do we miss that exit? Because, it doesn't exist. The exit is in Concord, not White River Junction. 93 never even passes through White River Junction.

The moral of the story? Never go on a roadtrip without a mapbook.

Tuesday morning, riga_mortia and I set off for Plattsburgh, New York. We got out of the house very early, and made good time to South Station. The air seemed hopeful and the prospect of leaving the city for a few days was very exciting.

Things started to go wrong when we got to the ticket counter at Greyhound. They ended up charging us a rate several hundred dollars over what they had quoted us over the phone. Not knowing of any other choice, we forked over the cash.

Quickly, I realized I had forgotten my ID. Realizing that this meant that the trip would be much more problematic, we went decided to take the next bus out, and take a taxi back to riga_mortia’s house and pick up my ID.

My ID wasn’t at her house, and we were running out of time, so we called another taxi to run back to my house, as I was sure I must have left it there.

On the way out to the taxi, riga_mortia had a nasty fall onto an evil metal thing laying on the sidewalk. She ended up with a nasty looking wound on her knee. I got our luggage together and she limped into the taxi.

My ID wasn’t at my house either. To add to the fun, we quickly discovered that riga_mortia had left her purse in the taxi.

grrldan arrived home and offered his help. And what a wonderful help he was. He patched up riga_mortia’s knee very skillfully and made us both much-needed cosmopolitans.

I decided to call the liquor store I had gone to the night before, in a last hope that it was where I lost my ID. I got on my computer to get the number for the store and found that my monitor had completely died.

grrldan looked up the number for me on his computer. However, when I called, I was told that my ID wasn’t there either.

Giving up on my ID, we called the taxi company and asked about riga_mortia’s purse. They had it and grrldan said he would give us a ride to retrieve it as well as anywhere else we needed to go. I can’t thank him enough for all the help he was to us.

riga_mortia and I figured out that it would actually be cheaper to rent a car and drive it to Plattsburgh than to take the bus, even with the 15% charge for returning the tickets. So, we called up several rental places to get a car. However, no one would rent us a car, because I don’t have a credit card or my own auto insurance (either one would have worked) and riga_mortia is under 25 and only has a permit.

We worked out a plan with katia25 (riga_mortia’s stepmother). We would wire her the money to rent a car. She would rent it, drive from Plattsburgh to Boston then drive us back up to Plattsburgh.

First thing was first, the tickets and the taxis had wiped out our cash reserves. We needed to go to my bank. As I had lost my bankcard the week before, and now didn’t have my ID, I wrote grrldan a check for the money I needed and he ran into the bank to cash it. A few minutes later, he came out and told me the people in the bank wanted to talk to me inside.

They told me that my check was suspect, because it was written out of sequence (another symptom of my absentmindedness). However, they had my signature card on file at the bank, and I was able to get the money out myself.

Next stop was Stop and Shop to wire the funds for the car. Again, grrldan came to the rescue. As the only one with an ID at that point, he had to be the one to actually send the money on its way.

After Stop and Shop, we went to the Yellow Cab office. On the journey there, we encountered a traffic jam. After waiting about 15 minutes in the baking sun, traffic began to move again, and we got riga_mortia’s purse.

Before he had to be on his way for his own scheduled activities for the day, grrldan dropped us off at the DMV so that I could get a temporary license for the trip.

When katia25 arrived, we grabbed our stuff and piled into the car. Our troubles were over, or so we thought.

We quickly got lost in Vermont. We spent a long time on the empty highways in the land of moose and bumps. After wandering and wandering, we found a hotel and asked for directions. We apparently missed our turn by an hour and a half. Instead of having to back track, we were directed on an alternative route. All in all, the 3 hour trip ended up taking more than 6, and by the time it was over both riga_mortia and I were both feeling slightly ill.

We checked into our hotel, only to find that it was a complete pit. It was more of a no-tell motel than anything else. The one redeeming quality, is that it had a rustic Bonnie and Clyde feel to it. I felt that the feds would be breaking in the door any minute.

In the morning, we carted ourselves over to the Super 8. A little more pricey, but a lot less shitty. At this point we both realized that the slightly ill we felt the night before was not going to simply go away. The slightly ill had definite plans of being more than slightly.

In the very late afternoon, we finally got over to see riga_mortia’s family. They were all very accepting and nice. I got along with all of them very well. We all got quite floopy, and Chantea (riga_mortia’s sister) got quite a bit too floopy.

katia25 dropped us off near the beach, where riga_mortia and I splashed together on the beautiful shores of Lake Champlain. It was probably the most beautiful part of the entire trip, however being wet in the chilly night air probably didn’t help us with our developin