Road Trip from HELL!!
OK. So...
I recently (aka this morning) returned from the road trip from HELL.
Right before I left I asked out my crush, the oh so adorable Jim who kinda looks like Jesus and is probably too old for me anyway. After mapquesting the distance to my house (yeah... I laughed too. A lot.), he decided we lived too far apart. Unfortunate, I know. I was rally sad. I didn't cry though, I wasn't that sad. And my mother was sitting next to me, so even if I had wanted to I wouldn't have. Anyway, I thought the road trip would take my mind off of it. (By the way, I'm listening to the Cars soundtrack. Everyone must see this movie. It made my life. They went TRACTOR TIPPING and got chased by a giant lawnmower!!!!! Anyway, let's not get sidetracked...) Needless to say, I had such a traumatic experience that, at Alana's urging, I will commence the screenplay for it quite soon.
It began as a normal road trip, we arrived in Virginia after getting lost a fair few times, thus barely making it to my mother's highschool best friend's (Sharie) dance program. We had to change into our nice clothes in the car. That was fun. Then we realized our lack of an umbrella or a coat and had to make a mad dash through the thunderstorm to the door of the building. We dried out a bit through the third act. When he wasn't performing, Sharie's father (old) was pretty much hitting on me and using racial slurs and he called a guy a 'fag' (I nearly punched him in theface, but I couldn't cuz he's old) because the guy didn't get him a present. He was a nice man, but he didn't have a clue. Then we had to congratulate her son Michael. Now I know what you're thinking, but he's twelve. I had met him once before and he is the most obnoxious boy in the world, but surprisingly enough he was being very good and nice to everyone. He clung to me a bit.
Here's where the HELL bit comes into play: Michael's clinging to me turned out to be a monstruous crush. Add that to his already obnoxious and difficult nature and what do you get? I'll tell you. He and I in a small room on a couch and under a blanket watching The Princess Bride. Him trying to convince me to kiss him. Not happening. I tried to leave at the end of the movie (I wasn't going to let a minor rape attempt interrupt my enjoyment of Inigo's revenge on the six-fingered Count Rugen and Miracle Max's revival of the mostly dead Westley! I mean, come on!), but he blocked the door and tickled me into near (there was no way I was kissing a 12-year-old) submission and crap like that and he's one strong little boy. I need to work out because he didn't have to work very hard to keep me in there (it wasn't easy for him, but it wasn't like climbing the Cliffs of Insanity, either). In the end, I had to go to my next strength. My fail safe: the evil glare of death. Even that took quite a few minutes to fully convince him. I hate that kid. He must have realized that he was no longer in my favor because the next morning when we left he didn't say goodbye until his mother nearly beat it out of him and even then it was shouted from another room of the house.
He made me promise not to tell anyone, but of course I told my mother and now my blog. Ha ha. I hope he rots in HELL. He'll probably grow up to be Ashton Kutcher's evil twin: good looking rapist of woman far too old for him.
We arrived in Pennsylvania to stay with a MUCH more laid back family. Their obnoxious daughter wasn't there but the nice one was (thanks for small favors). Although I think they thought me a bit arrogant because I sat on a couch and read most of the time I was there, and I [politely] refused most of the things they offerred me (you know, company, food, that sort of thing...). But in my defense, it was a very good book (The Princess Bride; I finally got a chance to read it), and an engaging read. I didn't want to put it down (I finished it this morning, by the way).
On the drive home, I got hit on by a creepy old guy at a pitstop and my mother had a heart attack because some teenage kids were being idiots so she thought they would burst in on her in the bathroom. She yelled at me for thinking she was ridiculous. When we got home I wanted to punch her in the face because I pointed out the obvious (in the wrong way and at the wrong time, however) and she jumped down my throat. There goes all the relaxation from the road trip.
Back to my home from Hell.
Oh well. Full circle, eh? This weekend was pointless.
Kate: I think we should talk about it on our podcast. You can make fun of me, and I can make fun of Michael.
Ann: Are you happy I posted? I miss you too. Pat wants you to come to a horror movie party at his house on friday. I gave him your screenname. His is pa[insert three numbers here]co. In the brackets there are actually #'s but one can never be too careful on the web.
posted by Hydronium Ion at 9:21 PM
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