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My Trip to Connecticut a.k.a. How I Thought I Was Gonna Die
14 years ago
I've been wanting to finally meet 
flarestarfire for ages now and he was at FurFright this past weekend. Some things worked out that I'd be able to make the 4ish (traffic depending) hour drive of just over 200 miles all the way the hell there to Cromwell, CT, from southeastern PA where FurFright is held. The drive was rather uneventful and took too long thanks to traffic, but I made it there an hour after closing ceremonies on Sunday. It was TOTALLY worth it to finally meet my favorite shire-turned-ram pianist. Met some cool people including a dainunicorn and a belicbear, chatted it up like mad with his one non-vore kangaroo room mate whose name completely eludes me, had a furio receive assistance from Dain to pull off my socks and start sucking at my feet for a while (that was... uhh, yeah, it happened so whatever ]X8D ), managed to get nommed at about 60 (or maybe 600) times by Flare by the end of it all, wound up helping unload the big Uhaul truck of con equipment, becoming the only owner of a FurFright 2011 badge clip and keychain who never attended the con, then getting free food at Bertucci's for the staff meeting dinner (when I, you know, never even attended the con ]X8D ), watched Flare get groped by a Bertucci's waiter while Flare was in his ram suit...
... aaaaand then Flare had a shittastic run-in with Delta and their being an airline manifestation of shit and fucking him out of his rewards ticket back home by claiming he was scheduled to fly home next fucking week, there being the money spent on another one through another company through the charity of a friend of his (no, not me), and having to get him to the Hartford International Airport at 4:30 AM. Despite all this, I couldn't sleep one single wink Monday night.
Not one single second of sleep.
Maybe it didn't help that it was in Dain's truck? So, I tried getting a room at an Econo Lodge at that point hoping to get some sleep for a few hours so that I'd drive home feeling more or less rested. Queue anxiety attack that lasted from 5 AM to 7:30 AM at which point I finally gave up and tried going home. Yay, I spent $57 to take a shit and a shower then stare at their lovely wallpaper and room decor while undergoing a nervous breakdown.
The anxiety attack was something I've never felt before. I think my subconscious was convinced I was going to die or be stuck in CT with no simple way (or, only a very expensive if I wanted a safe way) of going home. I'm leaning on the "I'm going to die" belief because it's insane how absolutely hard my heart kept pumping. I've never felt such dread and uncertainty in my life. I mean, I can get anxiety at times, usually because I have some obligation the next morning when I'm going to bed too late and am not accustomed to my alarm clock (obviously that never happens anymore having a job requiring a 6 AM wake up call), and sometimes a bad night for whatever reason where I am enjoying the shadowy surroundings of my bed unable to just fall asleep for an hour or two. But, holy shit, if that wasn't the most miserable time of my life, I'll never know what it would be.
The night clerk of the Econo Lodge, despite her limited capacity, tried so hard to help me. She was sweet, always smiling, and seemed genuinely caring of my inability to sleep. Ended up calling when I did get home to let them know of how good she was. I don't think she'll ever know how close I was to a nervous breakdown. Thanks again, Ashley, even though you'll never read this.
Once I finally decided to fuck it and drive the now 230 miles home (was at the airport now, after all) on adrenaline alone and only the 6 or so hours of sleep on Sunday (on which I was up till nearly 3 AM and I'd not gone to bed any later than midnight for 6 months prior, my circadian rhythm is pretty set now) I was growing delirious from a mix of sleep deprivation brought on by the whole "no sleep for over 30 hours and I've 4+ worth of driving" thing and the intense anxiety that threatened to burst my heart like a balloon. I thanked Ashley for her help and spent the next nearly two hours crying hysterically, that is to say laughing between sobs of uncontrollable tears at my predicament. Even in the worst of situations I'm surprisingly capable of laughter at the problem and getting through it all. With nothing but a Nutrageous bar and a refilled bottle of water, I bought some 5-hour energy shots, got some gas to last me till I could get cheaper closer to home, and drove. I relied on adrenaline for about half the trip, then slowly sipped down one of my energy shots. Fortunately, my body's sleep deprived state allowed me to avoid feeling hungry so long as I nibbled at the candy bar. Eventually, I stopped for some very shitty Wendy's food at a huge ass mall with an Imax in it somewhere in New York state. I think they prepared it with ingredients they had left sitting out all night because it tasted like a dried out cat's hairball. I then eventually got home between a couple stops more over all and without really losing focus or awareness of my driving at all.
I believe that I was the most anxious about my lack of sleep threatening me trouble with my ability to drive. I was afraid I'd get into some major accident and either die or be stuck out there. The drive went without issue, excepting for the fact that my overacting adrenals and extreme anxiety had convinced my bladder it was the size of a grapenut. I was very happy to finally be home.
Fuck, that sucked...
It was worth it, though. I finally met Flare and listened to him play piano in person sitting right next to him. Oh, and there was the flamboyantly gay waiter at Bertucci's I mentioned earlier who, when wanting to join in on the group shot with Flare and the three others who donned their suits at the end of dinner, shouted out, "You can't go wrong with a Big, Black Ram!!!" If the guy had discovered Flare's tail squeaked if squeezed, he'd have been knocking over wine glasses the rest of the night.
Next year, I'm taking the fucking train ]|8.
flarestarfire for ages now and he was at FurFright this past weekend. Some things worked out that I'd be able to make the 4ish (traffic depending) hour drive of just over 200 miles all the way the hell there to Cromwell, CT, from southeastern PA where FurFright is held. The drive was rather uneventful and took too long thanks to traffic, but I made it there an hour after closing ceremonies on Sunday. It was TOTALLY worth it to finally meet my favorite shire-turned-ram pianist. Met some cool people including a dainunicorn and a belicbear, chatted it up like mad with his one non-vore kangaroo room mate whose name completely eludes me, had a furio receive assistance from Dain to pull off my socks and start sucking at my feet for a while (that was... uhh, yeah, it happened so whatever ]X8D ), managed to get nommed at about 60 (or maybe 600) times by Flare by the end of it all, wound up helping unload the big Uhaul truck of con equipment, becoming the only owner of a FurFright 2011 badge clip and keychain who never attended the con, then getting free food at Bertucci's for the staff meeting dinner (when I, you know, never even attended the con ]X8D ), watched Flare get groped by a Bertucci's waiter while Flare was in his ram suit...... aaaaand then Flare had a shittastic run-in with Delta and their being an airline manifestation of shit and fucking him out of his rewards ticket back home by claiming he was scheduled to fly home next fucking week, there being the money spent on another one through another company through the charity of a friend of his (no, not me), and having to get him to the Hartford International Airport at 4:30 AM. Despite all this, I couldn't sleep one single wink Monday night.
Not one single second of sleep.
Maybe it didn't help that it was in Dain's truck? So, I tried getting a room at an Econo Lodge at that point hoping to get some sleep for a few hours so that I'd drive home feeling more or less rested. Queue anxiety attack that lasted from 5 AM to 7:30 AM at which point I finally gave up and tried going home. Yay, I spent $57 to take a shit and a shower then stare at their lovely wallpaper and room decor while undergoing a nervous breakdown.
The anxiety attack was something I've never felt before. I think my subconscious was convinced I was going to die or be stuck in CT with no simple way (or, only a very expensive if I wanted a safe way) of going home. I'm leaning on the "I'm going to die" belief because it's insane how absolutely hard my heart kept pumping. I've never felt such dread and uncertainty in my life. I mean, I can get anxiety at times, usually because I have some obligation the next morning when I'm going to bed too late and am not accustomed to my alarm clock (obviously that never happens anymore having a job requiring a 6 AM wake up call), and sometimes a bad night for whatever reason where I am enjoying the shadowy surroundings of my bed unable to just fall asleep for an hour or two. But, holy shit, if that wasn't the most miserable time of my life, I'll never know what it would be.
The night clerk of the Econo Lodge, despite her limited capacity, tried so hard to help me. She was sweet, always smiling, and seemed genuinely caring of my inability to sleep. Ended up calling when I did get home to let them know of how good she was. I don't think she'll ever know how close I was to a nervous breakdown. Thanks again, Ashley, even though you'll never read this.
Once I finally decided to fuck it and drive the now 230 miles home (was at the airport now, after all) on adrenaline alone and only the 6 or so hours of sleep on Sunday (on which I was up till nearly 3 AM and I'd not gone to bed any later than midnight for 6 months prior, my circadian rhythm is pretty set now) I was growing delirious from a mix of sleep deprivation brought on by the whole "no sleep for over 30 hours and I've 4+ worth of driving" thing and the intense anxiety that threatened to burst my heart like a balloon. I thanked Ashley for her help and spent the next nearly two hours crying hysterically, that is to say laughing between sobs of uncontrollable tears at my predicament. Even in the worst of situations I'm surprisingly capable of laughter at the problem and getting through it all. With nothing but a Nutrageous bar and a refilled bottle of water, I bought some 5-hour energy shots, got some gas to last me till I could get cheaper closer to home, and drove. I relied on adrenaline for about half the trip, then slowly sipped down one of my energy shots. Fortunately, my body's sleep deprived state allowed me to avoid feeling hungry so long as I nibbled at the candy bar. Eventually, I stopped for some very shitty Wendy's food at a huge ass mall with an Imax in it somewhere in New York state. I think they prepared it with ingredients they had left sitting out all night because it tasted like a dried out cat's hairball. I then eventually got home between a couple stops more over all and without really losing focus or awareness of my driving at all.
I believe that I was the most anxious about my lack of sleep threatening me trouble with my ability to drive. I was afraid I'd get into some major accident and either die or be stuck out there. The drive went without issue, excepting for the fact that my overacting adrenals and extreme anxiety had convinced my bladder it was the size of a grapenut. I was very happy to finally be home.
Fuck, that sucked...
It was worth it, though. I finally met Flare and listened to him play piano in person sitting right next to him. Oh, and there was the flamboyantly gay waiter at Bertucci's I mentioned earlier who, when wanting to join in on the group shot with Flare and the three others who donned their suits at the end of dinner, shouted out, "You can't go wrong with a Big, Black Ram!!!" If the guy had discovered Flare's tail squeaked if squeezed, he'd have been knocking over wine glasses the rest of the night.
Next year, I'm taking the fucking train ]|8.
I was just above that piano for a good portion of the night, till past midnight. There was always, ALWAYS someone playing it. I probably looked right at you (cause ante and co were in the pool and I chatted with them a bit) and didnt even realize it.