Strength in numbers and my cousin the closet badass, part 1

I met my cousin that I've known my entire life on a road trip to North Carolina.

My uncle recently turned 80 recently and to celebrate, his children threw him a shindig. His daughter-in-law sent out invitations via social media. When I received mine, I was bit apprehensive for a number of reasons. For one, the event was on a weekend in North Carolina, which meant taking time off of work, but also an extensive drive.

For another, I haven't spoken to my father since I was 15. To be honest, there's a part of me that's still afraid of him, but that's not what this piece is about.

For me, one of my biggest fears in visiting my biological father's family is worrying about what they think of me. It's a complicated thing to try and find a connection when you're worried that no one believes you or that they think you're crazy.

After receiving my invitation, I threw out a note to see if I could hitch a ride with one of the other northern cousins for the trip down south. In the end, my cousin Jenny, whom I've always attributed calm, peace and comfort with, messaged me to make plans. Even with my worries, I knew that if she was there, I'd be okay, so I agreed.

Jenny always finds the good in everything. It's going to be great.

In addition to Jenny, my cousin Barbara also joined in our trek and agreed to provide the snacks. My cousin Camie messaged that she was flying in from Missouri and would drive up with her mom, which was great because I haven't seen Camie in ages. Things just seemed to keep falling into place.

Soon after, I learned that my father wasn't going and I tossed one of my concerns away. Maybe this will be a good trip after all!

Having ventured on a number of road trips and preferring a drive at night, I took the late shift. During my drive, my perception of Jenny began to shift. She's not someone I ever pictured doing anything wrong. More than once, from the back seat, Jenny shouted to just "drive through the red light" because "no one was around." I couldn't stop laughing. This was JENNY!

This was the beginning to learning that my cousin Jenny was a certified badass.

I ended up lasting until 5 a.m. before relinquishing the keys over to Barbara. Through myriad music melodies along artists of the 90s, a stop at a horrendously gross gas station bathroom, an overly apologetic McDonald's worker that was on the verge of some kind of emotional break when the coffee wouldn't brew (ultimately, I told her to give me whatever caffeine she had and she repeatedly told me she appreciated me) and cramming half a bag of Muddy Buddies down, I had survived a driving from the border of Connecticut to Virginia. I hopped into the backseat and decided to close my eyes for a bit. When I opened them again, it was to a change of my initial preparation of the weekend. Jenny indicated that my father had grabbed a ride with Uncle Keith and was joining in on the festivities of the weekend. Having just opened my eyes, a tanking blood sugar level and looking like someone dragged a shoe over my face, I went into an angry panic. I am not prepared for this. What the hell do I do now?