The Cone Heard Around the World

December 25, 2017Leave a comment

IT STARTED OUT AS INNOCENT FUN.

In the fall of 2013 my dad convinced my mom to join us on a cross country road trip from New Jersey to Los Angeles in a C3 camper. I was stoked to be able to explore so much of the country that I have never seen. We were going to go to all of the big state parks in the north west like Yellowstone, Yosemite, the Badlands, Mount Rushmore, the Redwood national forest, and more. I could not wait to get out and see everything I had read about in social studies classes all through elementary school.

My dreams were crushed when two days into our trip. I was staying with my sorority sister from Ohio State on my parent’s anniversary and I got a news alert that the government had shut down. I was devastated. Not only were we not allowed in the parks now, but what was the point of driving all this way for nothing? We had only made it to Ohio so far and we were at least a day or two out from South Dakota depending on where we would stop to sleep. My parents picked me up the next morning, I was hung over, wearing the same clothes as the night before, and I probably smelled.

I went into the camper bathroom and tried to puke but couldn’t so I put my head phones in, sat in the passenger seat next to my dad and giggled to myself as I listened to “Iowa Stubborn” from the Music Man while we drove across Iowa (Don’t worry you can click the link to see what song I am talking about so you can laugh too). As beautiful as fly over states are, there is a reason when you are trying to get from point A to point B you fly. Highways in flyover states are seriously a drag. Although the first hour and a half was pretty entertaining, that shit gets old quick and you can only make so many “corny” jokes.

THINGS STARTED TO GET WEIRD.

We stopped briefly at the Corn Palace just to say that we did it and then made our way to the Badlands National Park… even though it was closed. Here is where things got a bit interesting. My dad slowed down when we came up to the entrance and realized there was not a single person around. With the rangers all off work we decided to take our chances and my dad drove over the cones and into the park. We hadn’t come all this way for nothing.

We pulled off at a parking lot that was coned off and my dad and I started snapping a few pictures. I snapped a photo of myself giving a thumbs up next to the “this national park service is closed” sign and said it would be funny if my dad threw a cone and mom took a photograph. My dad started laughing and we took a few action shots of him throwing the cone until we got the perfect picture with the cone in the air above his head.

MY DAD THINKS HE IS A CELEBRITY.

My mom and I posted a photo on Facebook and I captioned it “‘This national park service is closed. Oh yeah? You and what government workers are going to stop me?'”. A family joke meant to be shared between us and friends would soon be plastered all over Facebook and we had no idea.

First, someone made a meme out of my caption and the photograph. Then, the meme was posted on twitter and Fox News was tagged in the photo. By the time we reached California someone from Fox News had tweeted it, put it on Facebook, and wrote a blog post about it. Over 100,000 likes and shares later, my mom’s phone had imploded from constant messages, likes, and shares. The entire time we were in Los Angeles my dad kept talking about ‘getting an agent’ and saying he was being ‘recognized’ everywhere to make my mom and I laugh.

I am not even joking with you when I say how serious it is that you pay attention to what you put on the internet because one embarrassing photograph could very well be EVERYWHERE within 24 hours. One thing most people don’t even consider when they think about people in the spot light, is that you receive a massive amount of hate mail. People who have never met you have serious personal opinions about you. If this should ever happen to you, the best thing to do is to not read any of it. The negativity seriously isn’t worth any of your time at all. Don’t waste your energy and give in to angry people sitting behind a computer.

If you think I was joking about any or all of this story I am not because here is a direct link to the twitchy site written by a Fox News journalist who shared everything on her Facebook page.

Halifax, Escalators & Fog

December 3, 2017December 3, 20178 Comments

I’ve learned a lot of things while traveling with my parents. Conversely, I’ve also learned a lot of what NOT to do when traveling. One of my favorite stories regarding my parents is one starring my mother. My mother, Noelle, is a gorgeous dark haired woman who is ALWAYS put together. I don’t think she has ever left the house without a full face of makeup or a complete set of jewelry in her entire life. On the other hand, I frequently leave the house without even showering and still wearing the same clothes I wore to bed. I suspect the fact that my mom forced me to wear make up every day to school made me rebel as soon as I went to college.

Naturally, my mom packs three bags just for herself when we would go on long trips. I remember one instance particularly well. We were packing for a cruise to Canada that would leave out of New York. Growing up in New Jersey, the drive up was not all that far and we had been to the city many, many times. Most of my trips with my parents consisted of going towards the equator, not away from it. My dad spent some time living in Florida as a teenager and I think the fact that he still considers that year, “the best year of his life” influenced every single one of our vacations to go south.

I was actually really surprised that we were going to Canada. I had never thought in a million years we would take a cruise into colder weather I didn’t even know those existed. We boarded the boat and like every other vacation we all argued. In hindsight, this was the worst vacation we ever took together, but there were still some highlights so I will showcase those first.

mist, fog, and more fog.

We arrived in the port in Halifax and were able to see what was a pretty close picture of what my grandfather would have seen 50 years prior stopping in the same port as he came to America from Italy. I imagined him peeking through a door for only a minute to look outside. It would be cold and snowing so he’d quickly shut the door and go back inside the ship.

I remember I stood on the deck and looked out at the large white building with hundreds of windows at the port. I tried to take in everything around me and I wondered if this was the same exact spot my grandfather stood and looked out at Halifax. There were tents set up with vendors and a museum with thousands of photos of ships that had pulled into the Canadian port.

My dad looked through mounted black and white photos looking for one that looked familiar. He stopped when he found a black and white photo of the exact ship in the Halifax port that my grandfather took to America. I was amazed that there was actually a photo of the ship, the M.S. Vulcania. It looked so incredibly old to me. I tried to picture my grandfather as a young boy with his sister trying to navigate the narrow halls. He was hopeful of the future and had no idea how successful he would be all because he made that step and left his home and everything he knew behind him.

It was really foggy for the remainder of our trip and of course it wouldn’t be a “Bruno family vacation” without a good old fashioned shake up. My sister spent 90% of the entire cruise crying in her bedroom over her boyfriend who she had just broken up with. My sister was hysterical for almost the entire trip. My mom was understanding and my dad was livid. Mainly because the amount of money that the cell phone bill was about to come out to with all the long distance phone calls was astronomical.

I can’t really blame him for being pissed off. So the majority of the time I spent wandering the ship in more or less darkness from all the fog. I remember texting and eating a lot because there was’t much to do. It was kind of cold so there was no way we could swim and I was only 17 years old so I couldn’t drink. That left very little to occupy my time.

that one time i disobeyed a security guard and almost got tazed.

My fondest memory from this trip came as a surprise to me. Like I said previously, my mom packs multiple suitcases when we go on vacation. One other thing you should know about her is that she also has a completely irrational fear of escalators. I’m not quite sure what it stems from because I never asked her, but for what ever reason it’s there. We were going down the escalator into customs my entire family in a single file line. First my dad with his bag, my sister with hers, me with mine, and in the back was my mom with 2 rolling suitcases and a bathroom bag. I didn’t realize until we got to the bottom of the escalator that my mom had not followed us.

I took a step back and saw her standing at the top rustling with her bags, crying, and panicking. She had no idea how to approach the escalator with all of the luggage. She was shuffling the bags around and then eventually I realized she needed help. There were two security guards, one that was at the top of the escalator and one that was at the bottom of a different escalator. You would assume that out of all the people standing in customs, SOMEONE would have helped her, but no. So, I looked at my dad and said “I’m going to help her.”

The security guard started yelling at me something about not being allowed to go back upstairs once you come down. Annoyed at the entire situation and the fact that they were yelling at me instead of just helping my mom so I didn’t have to help her myself pissed me off.

Anyone who knows me, knows I also have a short fuse. I assume it comes from my Italian family because I have zero patience when it comes to stupidity. If you are in a position to help someone, HELP THEM. So naturally 17 year old me yelled back at the female security guard who was yelling at me to “STOP OR I’LL TAZE YOU”. I could feel the blood rush to my face and my ears started ringing.

“I AM GOING BACK UP THESE STAIRS TO HELP MY MOTHER. I WOULDN’T HAVE TO IF YOU WOULD HELP HER YOURSELF, BUT AS WE CAN SEE, YOU AREN’T DOING SHIT.” It just burst out and I couldn’t stop it.

I ran up the stairs and the security guard started to move towards me then, she looked over at my mom, then back at me, and stared in disbelief as I completely ignored her. Grabbing both of my mom’s rolling suitcases I ushered my mother onto the escalator behind me. She followed me down the escalator and we continued into customs. I don’t think she ever thanked me, but I also think she was too embarrassed to think straight at the moment so I understand. It was unspoken. I was pissed off for the rest of the trip home from New York, but I guess it could have been worse.

That security guard could have actually tazed me.

Somewhat Langered and Not Sorry.

October 12, 2017November 25, 20181 Comment

In March of 2012 I was a junior in college and I was completely miserable. I kept myself busy by being an active member of my sorority and studying for organic chemistry (which despite my perseverance, I would not pass that semester). I had met Brandon, my husband, about 4 months prior playing beer pong in a college dorm room, but we still didn’t have a label and it had been 5 months of seeing each other. My roommates bailed on me for my midnight 21st birthday plans and I was devastated that I wouldn’t have any plans. I was going to be missing my entire 21st birthday because of the time change flying to Ireland with my study abroad class, so I really wanted to do something over night in Atlantic City. Luckily, my friends from home pulled off a great night despite all the set backs.

One thing I don’t recommend doing is getting on a 7 hour plane ride to Ireland hung over. I puked at least 7 times on what was arguably the worst plane ride of my life. Since my roommates bailed I had a few friends from home that promised to take me out. I got plastered and ended up face down in a plate of chicken tenders double fisting margaritas in a buffet in Atlantic City at 4am. We ended up stuck in the city because there was a storm and the road leaving the city to go home was underwater. Upon hearing this from my friend who was a bit frantic I yelled, “YOLO” and continued to chug my margaritas. Needless to say I felt like death for the 24 hours that followed. I tried to sleep on the plane but that was not working because I was puking every 45 minutes. I barely remember the airport in Dublin. The first vivid memory I remember having was on the bus to the first hotel. I looked out my window and saw a side street, the sun barely past the tops of the row homes, and I felt like I was in a movie because it looked so cliché Europe. I snapped a photo so I wouldn’t forget and posted it to my Instagram account with an embarrassingly terrible filter.

“My first memorable moment of Ireland”

I remembered in middle school my French teacher talked to us about elevators being a luxury in hotels, but I forgot about it until we got to our first hotel in Dublin right on the River Liffey. I hauled my two suitcases up to my room on the 3rd floor while I tried not to vomit. Our professor told us not to go to bed so we would get use to the time change but screw that. I slept for a good six hours until dinner and I was not sorry.

We ate in the hotel that night and the food was better than literally anything I’ve ever eaten in the United States. There aren’t words in the English language that could describe the mashed potatoes I ate. Perfect. God. Delicious. It might have been my hangover talking, but I would trade my arms in for a plate of those mashed potatoes right about now.

After dinner we went out. By “we” I mean about 6 of the girls. We all walked down O’Connell street and found the temple bar district. One thing I learned is to order rounds if you are with a large group because the bartenders are ridiculously overwhelmed. They get really pissed when you order 6 different ones drinks at once. Also, if you can stick to beer and shots, do that. Skip the cocktails. It’s customary to take turns buying the rounds rather than everyone paying separately. So if you’re with a group suck it up and take turns buying rounds, the bar tender will thank you.

After 3 beers and however many slippery nipple shots we ended up in a McDonald’s where we were soon escorted out by police. My friend Megan was (as the Irish would say) langered and jumping and dancing on tables inside. The customers seemed to find it amusing, but the manager and the angry bald headed cop did not. So we finished drunk eating McDonald’s cross legged on the statue out front.

The next few days we walked around the college, saw a few monuments, saw an old prison Kilmainham Gaol (I write a little bit about that here!) which was terrifying and probably haunted by little kids from the famine, St. Patrick’s cathedral (if you haven’t been there, GO.) and went to the Guinness brewery (which is a must see! There is nothing like drinking a Guinness and looking out over all of Dublin!).

Gravity Bar is located at the very top of the Guinness Brewery in Dublin and has 360 degree views of the city.

We went to Belfast next from what I remember. We saw Bushmills distillery and drank 30 year old whiskey and bought a phone cases in a local “pound shop” which is the UK version of a dollar store. Coincidentally it was much nicer than any dollar store I’d ever been in. We also went to a really cool bar/night club there where the ground floor is a pub and the first floor is a night club. I had a beer spilled all over me and we got in a fight with some guy who kept calling us “dumb fat Americans” so he got a few drinks thrown in his face. Around 11pm the lights turned on and we watched as a skinny pale guy ran through the crowd butt naked with 3 policemen struggling to run after him. He was ultimately tackled to the ground. #OnlyInIreland

Bullet holes in the side of a school building in Belfast, residual from the time of the troubles

Titanic Museum being built in the same place the Titanic was built.

We ended up in Derry next which was really cool too. Another thing I learned is that as a tourist just call it Derry. Do not call it Free Derry or London Derry because then you are picking a side in a heated argument you don’t want to be a part of. Most of our teaching moments came here. If you aren’t familiar with Ireland and it’s recent history, Derry is the site of the Battle of the Bogside between the Catholics and Great Britain. This was one of the very first conflicts during “the troubles”. We received a tour starting at the church where the Catholics descended on their march and then ended down to where the blood bath took place and then into a museum which contained artifacts from the battle as well as letters from the British army to the families of those killed. The buildings along this path are painted with controversial and political murals by Bobby Sands who led our tour. The tour was amazing and extremely well done.

On our way back to Dublin we stopped at Giant’s Causeway which is made up of beautiful cliffs and strangely shaped rocks surrounded by legend. There are a few different versions of the story, but the one I was taught says that a giant named Finn McCool was angry at another giant in Scotland Benandonner. Finn decided to take huge chunks of the cliffs and throw them into the water so he could cross and teach him a lesson. Benandonner turns out to be much bigger than Finn and so Finn retreats. When benandonner shows up to challenge him Finn’s wife disguises him as their child and Benandonner leaves assuming that because the child is so large, Finn must be gigantic. The rocks are what was left over of the crossing from centuries ago. In reality, the rocks were probably formed from volcanic eruptions millions of years ago, but locals continue to tell the stories and believe the myths. This was, by far, the most amazing part of my travels. There is just something about millions of years old natural rock formations that get me every single time.

We shortly thereafter returned to Dublin and we packed for our journey home the next morning. I was devastated and did not want to leave. We had so much fun with our tour guide, I can’t remember his name for the life of me, but he was fantastic. One of my favorite moments includes him taking a coffin off the wall, jumping inside, pretending to be dead, and reenacting an Irish Funeral in the middle of a restaurant in Dublin. I had fallen in love with the city of Dublin, the people, and the history of Ireland. I knew that I had to return.

Fast forward 8 years later and here I am. Planning a return visit with my Husband Brandon, my parents, and my in-laws for Brandon’s 30th Birthday. I am so overjoyed that I will get the chance to share this country with the people I love. We have a lot of really fun things planned and will even get to explore a little bit of my husband’s ancestry.

If you have had any experience with Galway, Hook Head, or the Cliffs of Moher, OR if you know any really good places to eat in Dublin comment below! We would love to try them.

Check out my gallery of all of my Ireland photographs below. I apologize for the poor quality. It was 2012 and the iPhone camera wasn’t the greatest.