Ya llego, ya llego!

(I have Dad to thank for my inability to properly read and follow instructions--"tear here? Why did they print that on the bag? Hmm.. Oh well, I'm biting it down over here"--… but I was so tired and anxious to have something to eat during my trip, I just tore the hell out of that bag not giving a shit about any sort of instructions… plus… I fucking love those little snacks. Buy me the Strawberry or Cherry kind and I’ll love you for ever… buy me the Mixed Berries kind and… hell, I’ll give you my first born! Ok, maybe not that—what would you want with a newborn anyway?—but I would probably become your slave for a determined amount of time)

The drive here was nowhere near as brutal as the December drive.
The trip took 21 hours (left Thursday morning at 4AM Vegas time, got here today at 1AM Vegas time)… and that included a tiny detour in Chihuahua and Arizona (checked out the town Older Brother was stationed for most of his active duty—Sierra Vista/Fort Huachuca)… and the four times we were stopped by some sort of law enforcement: once by the AFI—the Mexican version of the FBI--, twice by Mexican soldiers (one of the times one of the soldiers began flirting with me after he made me step out of the vehicle while they checked for drugs. It was strange… it was all formal and weird… like flirting with… an uncle or some shit. Here’s how it went:
Soldier: Yeah, it’s a good thing to stretch your body.
Me: [Smile… stop stretching… scratch your head now... stand still]
Soldier: Where did you come from? : sort of whispering:: Heaven?
Me: Excuse me, sir? [What the fuck was that?]
Soldier: What part of Mexico are you coming from?
Me: Durango, sir. [Home of the badasses. Smile]
Soldier: What part of Durango?
Me: Tepehuanes [I’ll be damned if I give you the exact location… you’ll have us standing out here longer].
Soldiers: The girls from those parts are very attractive.
Me: [Smile… shrug… look over at Little Sister]
Soldier: Where are you guys headed? Let me guess: [Name of a big city near the border]
Me: [Helllllllllllllll no! Fuck border towns!] Las Vegas, sir.
Soldier: Las Vegas? The place of the “Table Dances?”
Me: [laugh, moron, he has an AK47… or whatever that weapon is… fuck it… what’s important is that he can shoot me if he pleases] So I’ve heard, sir), and the final time by border patrol… where the officer working the booth was taking his job WAYYYY too seriously (he was the only one sending EVERY SINGLE car to get searched and inspected by dogs… every single car. When the officer doing the searches saw our truck, he was first intrigued, but when he saw our dog… and the little bit of luggage we had, he rolled his eyes in annoyance. Poor guy was fed up with his fellow officer that kept sending all the cars to get searched. I didn’t mind the officer running the search, though… he was hot and he could have asked me any questions for as long as he pleased… ha).

I managed to stay awake for the entire trip… I just started getting very tired once we passed Wickenburg… stupid desert.
If it weren’t for those little Fruit Snacks, I probably would have fallen asleep and left my poor brother to drive in complete silence… with all three of his passengers enjoying a nice nap.

I’m glad to be back… my “vacation” was anything but. It made me grouchy… tired… annoyed… kind of sad… paranoid (I keep acting like my grandma’s still in the room and I find myself modifying my behavior. I can’t even burp without thinking “Fuck, grandma’s here! How rude of me!” or listen to music out loud “Oh no! I shouldn’t be listening to music since we’re still grieving my grandpa… and here I’m making poor grandma listen to… wait… I’m in Vegas now. No more need to sneak in music time using my iPod.”), and everything else that’s bad.
Yes… I did get to hang out with people I rarely see because they live scattered all over the U.S. and Mexico… but it was still very strange… I never felt at home… I never felt comfortable and relaxed like other years… and I definitely felt my grandfather’s absence (I went to the cemetery on my second to last day there, and upon reaching his grave… where a tombstone is yet to be placed… I couldn’t believe it. I just stared at the mound of dirt with the dried up flower wreathes and couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that my grandpa, the man I thought would live past his 100’s just to continue pissing me off with his weird/fucked up antics, was under there. El Señor from last summer, shit, from December… was under there… unable to hear me apologize for being a bitch all these year… and not able to hear me thank him for the wonderful early years of my life… where he made everything so… so special and out of this world for me and all his little grandkids. Crazy shit).

I have more to talk about… a lot more… but I’m tired… and this post was too long.
Point is: I’M HOME!! (Although, fuck, did I get a nice surprise when I stepped out to the backyard this morning: Dad put cement all over the backyard… it’s now practically all cement (imagine… a fucking half acre completely covered in cement… what the fuck?! What is this? A fucking shopping mall?)… gives the place a nice little prison feel. My poor dog no longer has his little place under the fig tree to keep cool… why? Because it’s now all motherfucking cement! FUCK.THAT.)