Who Says You Can't Go Home?

This past weekend, I took a much needed hiatus from the soul-sucking world of ad sales and headed to my hometown of Canton, a glorious mix of country folk and people who want to be out of Atlanta but not be too far out there in case they change their mind. You really never know what you are going to find in Canton- in the same car trip I passed what looked to be a yard sale taking place in the middle of a closed down Save-Rite's parking lot as well as a hand-painted sign in a small shopping center reading "Elvis's Nurse's Book Signing Today!" I only caught a glimpse of a tailgate-style tent set up outside with an Elvis impersonator beneath it before rounding a curve and only being able to think, "What in the WORLD is going on with this town today?"

Mark did not join me in this particular trip, which left me the need to explain several times that things had not fallen apart already and that we, of course, have stood the test of time having been married for a solid almost three months and all. He decided to be responsible (a.k.a. lame) and work on the papers that he has to do for his equally soul-sucking world of graduate school. My dad certainly did not let this go without making a few quips about how "Mark always made the effort to come see us when he was courting you."

The great part about my parents, my sister, and me being together is that we are damn quotable people. This was demonstrated within hours of picking up my sister, Kate, from college. She was explaining how as a freshman she had just landed the understudy role of a character in an upcoming play (she's a music theater major). Referring to the director, I asked "Is it just a rumor or have you heard it straight from the horse's mouth?"

"No," she replied emphatically. "I heard it from him!"

"...He would be the horse in this situation, hon."

Usually my dad is the one that is always saying something completely off the wall:

"Do you see that squirrel there?" my dad quipped out of nowhere one afternoon as we drove through our neighborhood. "That is an evil squirrel."

"How do you know?" I asked him.

"Sometimes you can see their little eyes and teeth and sense the hostility," was his reply.

But one of the most horrifyingly fantastic quotes that has ever been uttered by one of us came from my mother on Saturday evening while catching up with Kate's former high school drama and chorus directors after the school play.

"How have you and Eric been coping with both of your daughters being out of the house now?" one of them asked her.

"Well, Eric and I have recently discovered BJs," mom said.

Now the background on this situation is that I received a call recently from my parents, who told me they were in the throws of their first visit to BJ's Discount Club. They had gotten a free three month trial offer in the mail, and were eagerly buying things in bulk and felt the need to inform me they now had enough toilet paper to last them a year.

These people from Kate's high school did not know that and after a brief pause while we let the weight of what had just been said settle n, the room erupted in laughter as my mom turned a bright shade of red.

"BJ's the store!" she said. But the damage had been done and we were all howling for the next ten minutes.

"Tell Eric I said congratulations," the drama teacher said as we were leaving, starting another round of snickering. It was a glorious moment in a glorious weekend.

Now I am back to the grind of the advertising world. Woo. Good thing I have Grover to help me with my work.