The Poorly-Read Librarian

Apparently, I'm no longer tired. Second wind? Ready? Go. Here are a few more favorites: At Little Round Top. Paris was still waking up from her miniature nap in the car. Brea and Paris at Devil's Den. Paris, struggling with a mozarella cheesestick at Friendly's. So good. A potentially artsy picture at the Letterkenny Reservoir (less artsy when you look at a larger version), which is near.... ...my uncle's wonderfully creepy cabin, which I love. (It's mostly only creepy because we were there alone; it's much better with family and food.) A cool sign in New York, in honor of my niece Paris, who is learning that her name belongs to more than just her individual self. It was a good week.

I've been meaning to post some pictures from my adventures with Laura Fox a few weeks ago. We took a train to New York City, and I totally feel city-savvy now that I know my way around the Big Apple. We also went to my uncle's cabin, Gettysburg, Cowan's Gap, and we drove around Amish country for slightly longer than planned. I don't get lost; I just drive until I end up on a road I recognize. Here is a summary of the week in words and pictures: Thank you, Harrisburg's Penn Station, for making such a phenomenal first impression. The mob bosses are meeting to discuss the bodies in the trunk, witnessed from the 86th floor of the Empire State Building. In honor of "In the Heights", I totally took "the A train, even farther than Harlem to northern Manhattan and maintain, get off at 181st and take the escalator, I hope you're writin' this down, I'm gonna test you later." It's an elevator, not an escalator, Usnavi, get it right. So...

Turkey-sighting aside, my weekend was actually quite enjoyable, considering 43,000 students were shopping at Walmart and it was busier than Black Friday. Cashiering can actually be quite fun when you choose to converse with your customers. The locals were funny: some were happy to see the students return, others grumbled because they forgot "they" were coming back and didn't realize Walmart would be so incredibly busy, and one man in particular made no attempt to hide his blatant disregard for the "spoiled rich kids" who expect handouts and have the gall to touch his fully restored '67 Mustang. I quickly learned that this man does not allow just anyone near his cars. I appreciate the woman who suggested I try a certain bar because they brew their own beer. Except that I don't drink, so never mind, but thanks anyway. I heart the freshman from Oakland who's going to miss his mom. I giggled when one girl, who had lived in New York all summer, cou...

So, I'm out of town on business this weekend, I guess that's what you'd call it. On Thursday night, I was driving up to State College, reluctantly following Mapquest's directions which had, like, 20 steps - google maps only gave me 8 steps, but the difference in mileage was enough to make my decision for me. Onward. It started off like a fairly normal roadtrip. Until I'm prompted to turn off the main highway, of sorts, to follow Mill Creek Hollow Road. Rule #1: All horror movies start with the simple act of turning off the main road to follow the unknown, dark, and treacherous mountain trail. That does not sound promising. I see a sign for "State Gaming Lands". What does that even mean? And then, are you ready for this - a turkey crosses the road in front of me. A turkey . Not a deer as expected, but a Happy Thanksgiving. No, thank you. Come on, Mapquest! I'd rather be with the British mourning the loss of the Colonies. I was ever so relieved to exi...

I'm 27 years old. You'd think I have the ability to make decisions on my own. So, at 10:30 the other night, I was hungry. I decided I wanted pizza rolls. Not the healthiest choice, I realize, but it was my choice nonetheless. My mom said no. My dad said no. I tried to obey. I washed my face and decided I was still hungry. I walked past my parents' room and said I was going to have pizza rolls. My dad said my name rather loudly and told me not to. I did anyway. I've never really been the rebellious type, but apparently this was a moment that called for action. Let me sabotage my body if I want to, dang it! I'll be the one facing the consequences, i.e. needing a significantly larger size the next time I buy clothing. But it's my choice, right? I'm not necessarily proud of my miniature rebellion - I don't like to be disobedient - but I feel as though there ought to come a time in one's life when parents can no longer tell you what to do. I don't app...