If you’re at all interested in reading the first installment of Cabin Fever, you’ll have to scroll through my blog (because my archives were never set up right and are the crappiest things ever) all the way back to October 21 of last year. It’s a riveting tale of a girl, a dog, an imaginary chain saw, and a cinnamon roll. I swear you won’t be disappointed. Because in the spirit of sequels like Twilight and Hunger Games, the first installment is always the best.
I fully expect the movie people to call any day now.
To recap, after much begging and pleading and mild—I dunno—threatening, I convinced a dear friend of mine to let me use her cabin last October. So I hopped in my car, revved up the engine, and fled to her place for a much-needed weekend of uninterrupted writing. She was so sweet to let me borrow it. And I only had to spend five minutes handcuffed to the back fender of her Honda Odyssey in order to get the keys. I was prepared to stay all night in her garage if I had to. I even had a blow-up pillow tucked in my back pocket, just in case.
But like I said, she is SO sweet.
Anyway, I spent the weekend at her lovely cabin by myself last year.
This past weekend, I went back with a group of friends. Y’all, this was so much better. Because last year, I packed a cinnamon roll, a yogurt and (if I remember right) a frozen pizza or two. But this year, people cooked for me! They cooked things like lasagna! Enchiladas! Biscuits and Gravy! Cheesecake! And a bunch of other stuff that I can’t really remember but was so good that I licked my plate and went back for more.
(*On a side note, I was asked to bring fruit. I am ALWAYS asked to bring fruit. And while I secretly suspect that I should be offended, I’m not. Because cooking isn’t really my thing. Eating is my thing. Eating, and watching television all sprawled out on a sofa. Except that I spent most of the weekend on the floor because the sofa was full, which is regretful in a HUGE way, because no one ever got to see my full potential on display. Sigh.*)
So…I gained two pounds this weekend. That’s the sad part.
But by this morning, I had already lost one. That’s the happier part.
But I digress.
There were only a few things on the agenda this weekend: Eat, sleep, avoid showers, and hang out. And that’s what we did. But after all the People magazines were read, we felt like doing something different, so we pulled out some games. Some games were brought from home, and some were made up. Some had easy-to-follow rules, and some had rules that changed by the second. My favorite game went something like this: Write down something that no one knows about you, and then let everyone to try to guess who that person is. But because of many rule changes, debates, and confusion by the entire group, we only had time for two rounds.
Here’s what I wrote:
1. I won first place in my state high school track meet.
2. When I had my first kiss, I turned my head fast and the boy wound up slobbering all over my ear.
Now, I ask you, which one sounds like me? Does the first one sound even remotely possible? Yes, it’s true, but in my life today, I am uncoordinated, trip often, and will break out in a sprint for only two possible scenarios—a. someone is chasing me or b. I’m trying to catch up to the ice cream truck. That’s it. That is how my friends know Amy Matayo, circa 2012.
But they all got that one right. I wrote the best, most unobvious thing I could have possibly revealed, and they guessed it. Which meant I lost. Which totally stunk.
But the kiss? The sloppy, embarrassing, typical-Amy, botched first kiss? No one guessed that. And that was just unfair. Because even though I won that round, I was appalled. Outraged. Sad, even…when everyone laughed.
Because sure, maybe I didn’t know what I was doing back then, but I would totally kiss that boy better if I had a do-over (which I don’t want because I’m happily married. And because junior high was yuck.)
Anyway, I learned some things about my friends this weekend, and they learned some things about me. Hey, I even learned a few things about myself. Like—I’m competitive, I like fruit salad covered in yogurt, I stink at Bananagrams, and I will NOT fall to my death while sleeping in a top bunk bed. But mainly, I learned that a getaway weekend is tons more fun when you’re getting away with friends.
It has been nearly a year. And maybe my memory isn’t functioning right. Maybe…just maybe…I should try the alone thing again. I wonder if my sweet friend will let me?
I guess there’s only one way to find out.
Now…where did I put that blow-up pillow? And this time, I’m bringing a blanket.