Ok, I think I'm finally coherent.
Last night we took off from El Paso around 9PM.
It was an exhausting trip... both physically and mentally.
I had to sit through a four-hour, sleep-deprived lecture... which--of COURSE-- was religious... fucking fundamentalist christian in nature.
I had to listen to my dad go on and on about the fucking rapture, how my dad thinks he has the gift of healing, and all sorts of... alarming, delusional religious shit... that I now swear I've earned my place in heaven for not laughing in his face and requesting he go to get some medication for his delusions... or the fact that I bit my tongue each time I felt the urge to correct my dad's grammar (I love my dad, but he does not have the gift of eloquence... or even being articulate. He uses big words incorrectly... and it drives me fucking crazy... because if you're going to lecture me, you damn well better have a better vocabulary than I do... or at least a good grasp on it. You can lecture me with basic words, as long as you're using them correctly... it's how I learned as a toddler, after all).
He tried guilt-tripping me by using some reverse psychology shit on my about my siblings and I not going to his church. Again, I had to practice some self-restraint to not scream "BECAUSE YOUR 'SISTERS AND BROTHERS' ARE FUCKING IDIOTS WHO DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT, YET BELIEVE THEY'RE FUCKING GENIUSES!" or even mention that we all three went full-catholic because all we ever heard at his church was crazy shit about the end of days and how catholics were the root of all evil and all that mean shit... THAT, and his protestant brothers and sisters are plain crazy dummies... crazy, intolerant, ignorant fucking dummies. We opted for solemn traditional ceremonies given by well educated older men who guilt-tripped the shit out of us (good luck out-doing my old little aunts and grandmas on the whole guilt-trip shit... they were PROS... old Catholic pros, raised by women who lived through that whole traumatic Cristero War shit... they DID NOT play).
BUT ANYWAY! At around 3AM Dad gave up driving and gave the reigns to me... for a single minute. Both my parents became ridiculously nervous about ME driving THEM in that big truck and they forced me out of the driver's seat right when I was going to shift the gears. SERIOUSLY.
I was so upset, I remained wide awake until Mom got us home at 7AM.
In total, I slept for four hours on the entire trip. We left Hometown at 6:40AM local time (4:40 AM Pacific), arrived in El Paso around 6:40PM (Hometown time). In those twelve hours was where I got my four hours in... it was right after I puked all over myself in the Sierra, an hour into our trip. After barfing, in hopes of dissipating the dizzy spell I was encountering, I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep... to keep my mind off how horrible I felt. This worked, because at around noon I woke up and felt much better (still covered in puke, of course. It was gross).
Anyway, in El Paso we were shuffled around, visiting a few of my dad's friends (yes, I was still wearing my puked clothes. CLASS!) until 8pm Pacific time.
That was the last time I "rested."
Then we got home... where we learned our AC is out.
It has been a wonderful two days.
Last night we took off from El Paso around 9PM.
It was an exhausting trip... both physically and mentally.
I had to sit through a four-hour, sleep-deprived lecture... which--of COURSE-- was religious... fucking fundamentalist christian in nature.
I had to listen to my dad go on and on about the fucking rapture, how my dad thinks he has the gift of healing, and all sorts of... alarming, delusional religious shit... that I now swear I've earned my place in heaven for not laughing in his face and requesting he go to get some medication for his delusions... or the fact that I bit my tongue each time I felt the urge to correct my dad's grammar (I love my dad, but he does not have the gift of eloquence... or even being articulate. He uses big words incorrectly... and it drives me fucking crazy... because if you're going to lecture me, you damn well better have a better vocabulary than I do... or at least a good grasp on it. You can lecture me with basic words, as long as you're using them correctly... it's how I learned as a toddler, after all).
He tried guilt-tripping me by using some reverse psychology shit on my about my siblings and I not going to his church. Again, I had to practice some self-restraint to not scream "BECAUSE YOUR 'SISTERS AND BROTHERS' ARE FUCKING IDIOTS WHO DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY'RE TALKING ABOUT, YET BELIEVE THEY'RE FUCKING GENIUSES!" or even mention that we all three went full-catholic because all we ever heard at his church was crazy shit about the end of days and how catholics were the root of all evil and all that mean shit... THAT, and his protestant brothers and sisters are plain crazy dummies... crazy, intolerant, ignorant fucking dummies. We opted for solemn traditional ceremonies given by well educated older men who guilt-tripped the shit out of us (good luck out-doing my old little aunts and grandmas on the whole guilt-trip shit... they were PROS... old Catholic pros, raised by women who lived through that whole traumatic Cristero War shit... they DID NOT play).
BUT ANYWAY! At around 3AM Dad gave up driving and gave the reigns to me... for a single minute. Both my parents became ridiculously nervous about ME driving THEM in that big truck and they forced me out of the driver's seat right when I was going to shift the gears. SERIOUSLY.
I was so upset, I remained wide awake until Mom got us home at 7AM.
In total, I slept for four hours on the entire trip. We left Hometown at 6:40AM local time (4:40 AM Pacific), arrived in El Paso around 6:40PM (Hometown time). In those twelve hours was where I got my four hours in... it was right after I puked all over myself in the Sierra, an hour into our trip. After barfing, in hopes of dissipating the dizzy spell I was encountering, I closed my eyes and forced myself to sleep... to keep my mind off how horrible I felt. This worked, because at around noon I woke up and felt much better (still covered in puke, of course. It was gross).
Anyway, in El Paso we were shuffled around, visiting a few of my dad's friends (yes, I was still wearing my puked clothes. CLASS!) until 8pm Pacific time.
That was the last time I "rested."
Then we got home... where we learned our AC is out.
It has been a wonderful two days.
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