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The alarm clock began to beep, and I instinctively hit the snooze button before it could crank up to full annoyance. I hauled myself out of bed and ...

[MEMORY ERROR]

... picked up the rental car ...

[MEMORY ERROR]

... arrived at Yan's house to pick up some things. Yan's place is an interesting little one-story house in the middle of nowhere. To give you an idea of the sparsity of abodes in the countryside, Yan lives eight miles away from my parents' house, and we consider ourselves "neighbors." This isn't strictly true; the closest house from my parents' house is only half a mile away.

Of course, we were enlisted to help load and Yan's mom asked us to take away a number of things, like the forty small packets of soup mix that Jen got, or the gallon tub of Crisco that I wound up burning. We actually wound up burning a lot of things, including a number of things you shouldn't really burn, like foam mattress pads. Hungry from unexpected work, Jen, Yan, and I headed down to the local greasy spoon, the Oasis.

The Oasis is literally the only place to eat for ten miles. That's not to say they slouch with either their service or their food -- both are quite good. Yan and I ordered patty melts. Jen got a cheeseburger. The waitress was actually someone we went to school with. I couldn't remember who she was, but Yan remembered her. We chatted over the welcome meal.

"I've got all those packets," Jen said at one point, "and I don't even cook."

"Yeah, well whose fault is that?" Yan shot back.

"Your mom."

I couldn't help but laugh out loud at the unintentional "your mom" joke. Jen didn't even understand what was so funny for about ten seconds. Yan just sat with a conflicted look on his face, wanting to laugh but not wanting to admit defeat. We finished the meal and headed back out to Yan's place before finally hitting the road.