A 21st, McDonalds and, uh, Plastic Bags?

Over the weekend was my cousin Alex’s 21st birthday party. The drive to her town is just over 2 hours, so Saturday afternoon my mum, sister, aunty and I piled into one car and followed behind my uncle, Grandpa and two cousins in their SUV-type-thing. I divided my time reading, listening to my iPod, watching Friends and looking out the window for long periods. It would turn out that everything about this weekend would take forever.

We dropped Grandpa at the motel he was staying at, but it took an excruciatingly long time to find his room number. My cousin Georgia and I were texting back and forth at this point — “Well this is annoying. Bored yet?” “STARVING.”  We then drove five minutes up the road to find the house we were staying at. It was dark outside, we had less than an hour to get ready for the party, and my aunty was trying to untie the gate. We made it in, eventually, but it took the combined wits of seven people and my eventual discovery of the alarm system’s location to turn the siren off. Then it was a frantic rush to get dressed, and five girls sharing two small mirrors for makeup application (everyone gets creative to find a spot where they can see their reflection while passing around eye shadows).

In the end, we arrived at the party hall half an hour early, but we hadn’t eaten anything for hours. So we went to get dinner, which, of course, took forever. The party itself was good. Alex looked beautiful and came up excitedly to show off her styled hair and new dress.

On the trip home the next day, we stopped at McDonalds for lunch (because what’s a road trip without junk food?). It was bedlam in there, with hoards of people waiting for their McWhatevers with medium fries. Even the drive-thru line was long. A lady was yelling at one of the employees. My stress levels were peaking.

When we were back in the cars, my sister and I got a text from Georgia: “Pa is telling stories about fungus … He’s explaining how they make plastic bags out of fungus.”

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