Day 4, 5 & 6: Recovery and going home…

Day 4 (Road trip in Atlanta):  Went to the Fernbank Museum near downtown.  Jeana said, "Wow.  There’s a lot of little kids.  I wish we had a kid- it would make me feel better."
I said, "You have me." 
And later, as I was skipping in circles down the staircases she said, "I take that back.  I DID bring a kid."
I replied smartly, "Told you so!"

Went to the Coca Cola Factory.  Sampled Coke from all over the world and let me tell you, the Italians have some pretty nasty shit! 

Went for a walk at night after eating pizza from an awesome little pizza joint.  This is where the 42-year-old friend I’d made in the staircase the day before came in handy. 
Jeana and I were walking down the street (remember- we are not in the best part of town) when a ninja swaggered over to me and said accusingly, "You look like a little THUG."  
It was a comment probably well deserved but before I could say anything to make the situation any worse, the ninja’s companion (my homie from the staircase!) says, "Hey, that’s my little dancer friend.  Leave her alone."
I, needless to say, was nearly overcome with relief. 
And meanwhile, poor Jeana’s freaking out.  LOL.

Day 5:  Saturday we begun the drive home.  DROVE OVER THREE STATES SATURDAY (my legs were withering away from non-use) until a freak winter storm centered over Austin, TX forced us to stop at a hotel.  
It was probably a good thing though because both of us were exhausted.  We convinced a Super 8 manager to let us stay… and Jeana’s mom paid for the room since she was the one who REALLY didn’t want us driving through the storm.
I ate the hell out of their continental breakfast, too.  Ate waffles shaped like Texas.  Ain’t Texas great?  LOL.
And I drank a lot of coffee.  This was Easter day. 
I got home (my parents were at church) and had a moment of appreciation  for all that I DO have in life.
This was BEFORE I knew our hot water heater was broke and my Dad had to complete 4 years of taxes in one week to keep from being thrown in jail.  ::nods:: 
But I was still thankful. 

Oh, and on the voyage TO Atlanta, a cop pulled us over in Mississippi (I think) because he thought Jeana was driving with a baby in her lap (her knee?) and that the mustard bottle I was holding was a baby bottle.
Very terrifying moment, hehehe.  I think the cop just wanted to pick on a couple of Texans. 

Grrrr.

My birthday was last Saturday!  Booooo.  I hate my birthday.  BUT, ::points to the Age underneath the spinning Hatchetman diary picture:: it says I’m 19 now.  : )

Jeana didn’t come into town, my dad was busy screaming at his taxes… but my mom made me meatloaf for birthday dinner and we found some cake in the freezer leftover from one of the girls’ birthdays at dance. 
All in all, it turned out pretty nice even though I felt very neglected (My boss didn’t even tell me happy birthday.).  I got some stuff done at home that I’d been needing to get done.

One of these days I’m going to upgrade my diary to one of the fancier schmancier levels.  The kind you pay for.    Yep.  But I don’t have a credit card so it may be a while…

†   INMATE   †

Wearing:: Dark gray cut off sweatpants, white dress-up shirt (both hand-me-downs from my bro, lol), white sweatband.
Feeling::  Uhh, I don’t even know at the moment.
Last ate::  Pepperoni and beef jerky and mustard and tortilla chips.  (Don’t ask.)
Fingernail polish::  Vivid blue purple stuff.  Toenail polish::  Sparkly light blue.