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This is what happened in Pennsylvania

Monday, March 2nd, 2009

I kissed a baby cow while wearing high heels.


We went grocery shopping at BB’s, an Amish paradise in which you find bargains like 50 cent jars of chutney, or 9 full-size Butterfingers for $1.50, or a slightly smashed box of Cheez-Its for 75 cents, or apples for 39 cents/pound. It was like God raining down manna from heaven, and packing it in the trunk of my car for the return trip.


Rebecca was a GORGEOUS bride. But of course, I never got a picture of her handsome groom. Way to go, Annie. How can you even be related to the Parsons Photographers?


Other gems: I met both Paul’s parents and Graham’s parents (I love meeting my friend’s parents). We ate amazing home-cooked meals at the Zimmerman-Clayton household. I wore a sweatshirt that said “Penn State Mom” most of the time. There were chocolate chip cream cheese cupcakes at Central Market. I learned a lot about the Amish.  We watched an hilariously awful movie called “The Happening.” Paul and I ran for 7 miles through the farmland – but wait, that was terrible.

We documented our car ride to Pennsylvania. In the beginning we are full of enthusiasm, but soon spiral to misery, and then to sleepy insanity. We had absolutely no desire to film our return trip – we were too busy driving through a blizzard and discussing the world’s problems, using words unfit for camera – so unfortunately (but trust me – fortunately), this is all I have for you.

Pennsylvania Road Trip from Annie Parsons on Vimeo.

No sleep, shower, or toothbrush

Friday, February 27th, 2009

I made it to Pennsylvania, and am currently in a true, authentic farmhouse in Amish country. I am so tired, I can barely type.

The drive was very long but fairly uneventful, save me holding my breath for an entire mile of highway, and Paul and me adding whistle solos to various songs on the radio, and Graham calling my choice of tunes “sad bastard music.” We kept ourselves awake listening to podcasts and eating my secret shame, Ritz Cracker Cheese Sandwiches.

I held up really well until about 4am, when all energy, logic, and self-esteem flew out the window. For example, when Paul asked me what kind of a car I would be, if I could be a car, I answered sadly, “Probably a minivan, because it’s slow on hills, and sensible, and large.” I followed this statement with the declaration that I will probably never get asked out on another date ever again. Both guys rolled their eyes and DIDN’T EVEN PITY ME.

I’m about to slip into sleep for a bit, but I will have to wake up in time to combat the mange that is my current physical state.

Dutch baby

Thursday, February 26th, 2009

It occurs to me that I haven’t mentioned what’s happening tonight, have I?

Tonight, I am leaving on a road trip, traversing with PZC and the Handy Graham to their motherland – a distant, foreign place called PENNSYLVANIA.  I have never been there.  I’ve never really had any huge desire to go.  But now that the time is upon me, I have to say that I am looking forward to exploring “the heart of Pennsylvania Dutch country,” otherwise known as Lancaster County.  I hope that I see all sorts of Dutch things, like windmills, tulips, wooden clogs, and drugs.

Looking at the map, there’s a town called Intercourse, and another called Paradise, and even one called Fertility.  Those Amish must be onto something.

It is a 760-mile journey, and we’re leaving tonight at 7:30pm, driving through the dark in my trusty Honda.  Is this insane?  Am I too old ladyish for such shenanigans?  Yes.  But it’s something that we’ve been planning for a long time, and there’s no way that I would miss my friend Rebecca’s wedding in Lancaster on Saturday.  So we’ll drive tonight, and come back on Sunday.

Paul tells me that I should get excited about a miraculous gas station called Wawa.  I can’t even type that without laughing.  I looked them up online, and their current slogan is “Gottahava Wawa.”  Trust me – I’ve already said it at least 15 times, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.

The next time you hear from me, I will have experienced Tennessee, Virginia, West Virginia, and Maryland, before arriving in the heart of Pennsylvania.  This is ridiculous.  I KNOW.