A Carnival and Rain and The Real Housewives of New Jersey

So, I haven't written in a while.

That's because I haven't done much in a while, and I apologize for the half assed entry. If you live on the East Coast, you've probably been hit with rain. And not just a little rain. Days of rain. Noah get your Ark rain.

I went to college in upstate New York. I've had my fair share of shitty weather this year, but for some reason this rain has really hit me hard. People call me to go out, and I don't want to leave my house. All I want to do is curl up on my couch and watch The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

But, it's sort of getting better--both the rain and my disposition. Last Friday it was sort of nice, and my friends and I went to this thing called the Warren Expo. It's basically just a carnival.

I went with the kids that I ate lunch with senior year. Sharon ate with us too, but she was at her brother's graduation. When we got to the Expo, half of our group (Jerry and Dani) decided to go on the Gravitron--that scary looking thing that use centrifugal force to hold you to the side of the ride.

My friend, Iain, and I decided to opt out of the Gravitron, and went for a walk around the fairgrounds. All of a sudden, four cops went running by. There was a pause, and then every kid in our area who saw them took after them.

Iain smacked my shoulder, "Let's go!"

We ran after the kids who were running after a cop, someone knocked down the makeshift orange plastic fence that enclosed the carnival. It was a stampede of preteens, police, me, and Iain.

We passed some middle school girl with dyed blonde hair and ridiculous eye liner crying. Her friend laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "It's okay. It's okay. It's just your adrenaline rushing."

Two boys passed us and one shouted excitedly to the other, "Maybe someone's dead!"

Iain and I laughed at them. Part of me felt like I had finally matured because I was neither crying nor predicting someone's death at the edge of the fairgrounds. Then I remembered that I was chasing cops across a field to try and see what was going on with a bunch of middle schoolers. I guess maturity hasn't really hit me yet.

Eventually the crowd stopped, and up ahead of us the cops turned around, "It's nothing! It's nothing!"

Everyone started the slow walk back up to the carnival. I asked a girl I remembered vaguely from high school if she knew what was wrong, "Someone was smoking." Then her face became serious, "It might've been a joint."

So, that was that. This is rich, suburban New Jersey, folks. Where a flock of people hurdle themselves into the woods because someone "might" have been smoking a joint.

With this rain I feel like I'm completely trapped in the hellish parts of the suburbs. IE- inside. But eventually it'll get sunny again. I can stop wasting my time watching The Real Housewives of New Jersey and start exploring more places than the local carnival. New Jersey, the Garden State, the rain state, the state of people who "might" be smoking joints, is a state of endless weirdness. And I still plan on seeing as much of that as I can.