I'm back.
Did I miss anything?
Sarcasm, of course.
I got in yesterday night, but was too tired and frustrated to update. I woke up to a ton of news-- amazing what type of shit a person can miss out on when she disconnects from the world for a simple ten days.
Some of my news? Well, my bus ride to Mexico was a 36 hour ordeal... THIRTY-SIX FUCKING HOURS on the goddamn road in the company of 45 other people. Do you know how painful that is? No, I don't think you do... (I'm being dramatic. I'm sure refugees know worse fates). Thirty-six hours sitting in a bus full of old people with bladder problems... and the ONLY fucking toddler being conveniently placed directly behind me. A screaming toddler who--I kid you not-- would sound very much like the Jurassic Park velociraptors every thirty minutes... just fucking randomly... because she was a fucking illogical toddler (she knew how to communicate verbally, she did it occasionally like when she pissed herself... but screaming seemed to be her preferred method of communication). At one point, when we were stranded at the border crossing in Juarez, she was separated from her mother because the chick failed to declare a box full of carpentry tools. The poor kid cried so hard and so desperately for her mother, she wound up puking all over herself... and her seat. I was too upset for the baby to be upset about the puke, though I did gag once or twice when I first caught sight of her projectile vomiting directly behind me.
But the crying toddler and smelly old people were the least of my problems. I'm so mindfucked into "being a lady," that my body immediately freezes when I have to do long trips in the company of strangers. By "freezing" I mean my body will refuse to perform normal bodily functions-- I struggle to take a piss, shitting and passing gas is out of the question. You don't fully appreciate taking a shit until your stupid body decides to freeze your anal sphincter for thirty-six fucking hours... I swear I was knocking on death's door. TMI? I don't care. That garbage was fucking painful and tortured the fuck out of me the entire ride.
Why do people subject themselves to these ridiculous travel times instead of taking a plane ride (depending on what flights you snag, the most time you'll make is probably 16 hours if your layover[s] is lengthy) or just driving themselves down to Hometown (a 20.5 hours process, if you haul ass non-stop)? Because the bus is a measly $100. Plane? Roundtrip is at least $700.
After this bus fiasco and my "near death" experience, I said "Fuck this shit!" and purchased a plane ticket back home for $500... which in all sincerity, they could have asked for double that price and I still would have forked it over.
Anyway, all this talk about traveling issues took entirely too much time... maybe because it was the only negative I encountered on this trip.
Well, there was ONE bad day, and that was the day I heard about Robin Williams' suicide. While I didn't sob violently or any of my usual behaviors while breaking down, I did shed many tears... tears for him, tears for me... tears for everyone struggling with depression.
I know I just mentioned that shit... about placing the dead on a pedestal... but FUCK, did I love that man... I loved him. And FUCK, did my heart break!
And with that, I have to stop writing... before I really do lose it and cry myself to sleep or something. At least in Mexico I was able to calm myself down with the fact that I was "home"... in peace... in the land my mind wanders to when trying to find solace. Mexico was there to distract me. Here? Quite the contrary... everything here encourages me to lose it-- my mind.
Peace: that's what I wish people now... because I never knew the true value of it until it was lost and I encountered the perpetual struggle to recover at least a bit of it. Peace.
Did I miss anything?
Sarcasm, of course.
I got in yesterday night, but was too tired and frustrated to update. I woke up to a ton of news-- amazing what type of shit a person can miss out on when she disconnects from the world for a simple ten days.
Some of my news? Well, my bus ride to Mexico was a 36 hour ordeal... THIRTY-SIX FUCKING HOURS on the goddamn road in the company of 45 other people. Do you know how painful that is? No, I don't think you do... (I'm being dramatic. I'm sure refugees know worse fates). Thirty-six hours sitting in a bus full of old people with bladder problems... and the ONLY fucking toddler being conveniently placed directly behind me. A screaming toddler who--I kid you not-- would sound very much like the Jurassic Park velociraptors every thirty minutes... just fucking randomly... because she was a fucking illogical toddler (she knew how to communicate verbally, she did it occasionally like when she pissed herself... but screaming seemed to be her preferred method of communication). At one point, when we were stranded at the border crossing in Juarez, she was separated from her mother because the chick failed to declare a box full of carpentry tools. The poor kid cried so hard and so desperately for her mother, she wound up puking all over herself... and her seat. I was too upset for the baby to be upset about the puke, though I did gag once or twice when I first caught sight of her projectile vomiting directly behind me.
But the crying toddler and smelly old people were the least of my problems. I'm so mindfucked into "being a lady," that my body immediately freezes when I have to do long trips in the company of strangers. By "freezing" I mean my body will refuse to perform normal bodily functions-- I struggle to take a piss, shitting and passing gas is out of the question. You don't fully appreciate taking a shit until your stupid body decides to freeze your anal sphincter for thirty-six fucking hours... I swear I was knocking on death's door. TMI? I don't care. That garbage was fucking painful and tortured the fuck out of me the entire ride.
Why do people subject themselves to these ridiculous travel times instead of taking a plane ride (depending on what flights you snag, the most time you'll make is probably 16 hours if your layover[s] is lengthy) or just driving themselves down to Hometown (a 20.5 hours process, if you haul ass non-stop)? Because the bus is a measly $100. Plane? Roundtrip is at least $700.
After this bus fiasco and my "near death" experience, I said "Fuck this shit!" and purchased a plane ticket back home for $500... which in all sincerity, they could have asked for double that price and I still would have forked it over.
Anyway, all this talk about traveling issues took entirely too much time... maybe because it was the only negative I encountered on this trip.
Well, there was ONE bad day, and that was the day I heard about Robin Williams' suicide. While I didn't sob violently or any of my usual behaviors while breaking down, I did shed many tears... tears for him, tears for me... tears for everyone struggling with depression.
I know I just mentioned that shit... about placing the dead on a pedestal... but FUCK, did I love that man... I loved him. And FUCK, did my heart break!
And with that, I have to stop writing... before I really do lose it and cry myself to sleep or something. At least in Mexico I was able to calm myself down with the fact that I was "home"... in peace... in the land my mind wanders to when trying to find solace. Mexico was there to distract me. Here? Quite the contrary... everything here encourages me to lose it-- my mind.
Peace: that's what I wish people now... because I never knew the true value of it until it was lost and I encountered the perpetual struggle to recover at least a bit of it. Peace.
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