November 30

The day started off in a very lackadaisical manner. The drive from Jacksonville to Gainesville was short at best, leaving us another opportunity for a gregarious banquet of sorts. We all pooled our hungry cravings together and decided on Olive Garden---a place where you can feast on unlimited wands of buttery breadsticks and slurp up buckets of choicest soup and crunchy salad for the mind-boggling price of $5.95. I felt very tired and dizzy; the inside of my head bobbling around like a buoy upon wind-kissed waves. I had been up until the stiflingly late hour of 5am yet again, putting my body and mind through more taxing endeavors than a “ninja warrior” obstacle course. We all arrived at the restaurant with the teeming stench of starchy motel blankets and porous liquor fumes, ready for endless indulgence in Italian dining. The two waitresses were very kind and tended to our group like butlers, bringing armfuls of ice water and specified bowls of soup and salad repeatedly. After gorging ourselves like the Renaissance era, we left the two kind souls a hefty tip and a CD to jam out to. So if either one of you is reading this right now, know that we thoroughly enjoyed your service haha. After eating, I hopped in the van and sprawled out on the plush floor mattress like a sugar glider in aerial descent. I slept for the whole drive and woke up to the jolting reverberations of the trailer being unloaded. Gainesville was dreary rainy and cold. The whole night I did not feel like myself and just wanted to sleep. We played a very quaint little bar called “1982” which featured video games and cheap beer, two of my favorite things on Earth. We got real weird on stage and wore costumes; Goose jamming on the drums with a batman ski mask and I with my Mexican wrestler mask and sombrero; Dave wore his Halloween outfit---a power outlet costume and buggy sunglasses. We met some kids at the show and they knew someone with the ironic name of Orlando who had a house that all 3 bands could stay at. We loaded the equipment up hastily and drove in a massive caravan as long as a funeral procession to his house. We had a great time hanging out with our new friends and eating pizza in the kitchen listening to Queen. Orlando’s house was surrounded by thick twiggy marsh and we learned of a nature trail that started just outside of his driveway, continuing for a mile or so and leading deep within the canopy of towering trees. A group of 12 of us decided to investigate the trail. We grabbed a couple miniature mag-lights and ventured blindly into the inky black caverns of the wet forest. I had never been anywhere so dark. The few lucky explorers that had flashlights navigated the way as the rest of the followers tripped over brittle twigs and twisted vines that tasseled your feet like snakes in tar. Our quest was halted when we came to a flooded muddy creek, but our determination could not be extinguished. We found a fallen tree that bridged across the rancid water, a sure way across for any overzealous team of night navigators. We slowly mounted the fallen trunk and balanced individually, like a group of tightrope walkers in some savage forest circus. I had grabbed a can of ravioli from the house in case we got lost in the woods and needed food for the night, which was hanging heavily from the pocket of my sweatshirt. I traced the surface of the tree with the wet soles of my shoes, blindly pressing onward with the unwavering guidance of just a miniature flashlight clenched between my teeth and fickle twigs to grab onto. The can of ravioli inside my jacket was swinging over the ominous dark water, pulling on my balance like it was magnetic. Soon enough I was overcome by the power of the ravioli can and it caused me to plummet into the creek water like a boulder. I kicked with spasm-like thrusts and pulled myself out of the water, dripping wet and embarrassed. I managed to make it across on my second try and walked back to the house like a sorrowful soldier; the sounds of my squishy wet shoes and bantering jokes of my peers echoing in my head endlessly. I will never eat ravioli again.