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Gobble Gobble

It’s Canadian Thanksgiving this weekend, which is absolutely awesome because hello, long weekend! For Adam and I a long weekend means OMG! Two days off in a row!

What are we going to DO with all of that free time?

Well, for starters we’re going to make the 5 hour trek to my in-laws to celebrate the occasion with a giant turkey, a full house and two insane dogs.

Typically Adam and I trade Christmas back and forth between our families, one year with his, one with mine. Whichever family doesn’t get Christmas by default gets Thanksgiving. Hence, since this year is Christmas with my family here at our place, with some of them stuffed into the sex dungeon attic, we make the trek west to his people for turkey day.

Due to some confusion with my schedule I didn’t know if I could get Saturday off from work and we weren’t sure that this trip would happen. Even now I’m have no idea if Adam has even told his family that we are, in fact, coming. And sure, I could pick up the phone, but this is why God invented the Internets, so that I can speak to my brother-in-law directly through my blog: Hey Chuck! We’re coming! Start drool-proofing and buy some goat cheese!

Phew! That’s one thing off the list.

This weekend’s journey will also mark my first attempt to combat Item #4 on the List of Things Adam and I Fight About: Planning (or, I suppose in Adam’s case, the horrific lack thereof).

Let’s give some background shall we? To visit my mom we have to take a ferry to Vancouver Island. To visit Adam’s family we have to take a ferry, drive for an hour, then take another ferry.

So any travel for holidays inevitably involves taking a ferry or two. The ferry system is fairly efficient, comfortable and well organized, with the notable exception of long weekends, when the entire experience morphs into something akin to a zombie apocalypse, with lineups of impatient cars stretched as far as the eye can see, no one wanting to leave to so much as pee, lest the lineup start moving.

Easter weekend 2009: I saw a woman kill and then eat her chihuahua , roasting it piece by piece over her cars’ cigarette lighter as we waited in line for over 8 hours only to be told that all further ferries had been cancelled. We turned the car around and then fought so much from exhaustion and irritation that we nearly didn’t make it home alive.

Summary? BC Ferries + Long Weekends = RAGE.

So. Since the debacle of Easter Weekend 2009 (I will never be able to unsee what I have seen!) I always get reservations. You can buy ferry reservations for $15, which in my mind is a BARGAIN price to prevent both divorce and possible cannibalization. But of course Adam disagrees, to him $15 is a “ripoff” and also he loathes planning with every fibre of his being. This is usually what happens:

Me: I’m going to make ferry reservations for this weekend, when do you want to leave ?

Adam: Don’t make reservations! It’s a waste of money.

Me: I’m making reservations Adam, DO YOU NOT REMEMBER THE CHIHUAHA? When. Do You. Want To. Leave?

Adam: *exaggerated sigh* I don’t care

Me: Okay, do you have a preference of which ferry terminal we leave from?

Adam: No. No! I don’t care, do what you want.

And so I make an executive decision, choose the time and ferry terminal and continue on my merry way. (You can see what’s coming yes?)

Always, ALWAYS when we are about to leave Adam realizes what time and what terminal I have picked and loses his shit because in saying “I don’t care…do what you want” he of course actually meant:

“We must leave no later than 5:00, AT ALL COSTS NO LATER THAN 5:00 and it is of the utmost importance that we leave from Ferry Terminal A- TERMINAL A OR ELSE!

And if for some unfathomable reason you do not successfully decode this critical information that I’ve skillfully disguised as studied indifference, I will personally decapitate you and feed whatever small amount of gray matter I find within your skull to our dog, since YOU don’t seem to be using it .”

Right?

NO MORE! This weekend marks the abdication of my planning duties. Guys, I don’t care! I’ve conceded defeat! Look Ma, no reservations! I haven’t even looked! The boat could already be booked 100% full and we wouldn’t even know!

(!!!!)

This is the extent of my planning: I am packing a few sandwiches and a giant book (appropriately enough it deals with how the brain processes stress and anxiety) and I am just going along for the ride.

(Chuck: We may never get there. If we do, one of us may be headless and Gus may be be emitting foul, yet intelligent-smelling burps)

Please pray.

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