I’m finally back. My mom, dad, and I “went to the beach” this weekend. Technically…we didn’t. I’ll get to that later.
During the car ride I felt really guilty. I’ve been feeling guilty ever since…Leo passed away. Every time I do something I think of him and feel guilty. I felt guilty going to the beach. I feel guilty right at this very moment. I feel guilty living. Bah. Anyway…I cried on and off. My parents obviously didn’t get the message. “Are you feeling okay?” “Are you sick?” “Do you have a headache?” Ahhhhh! It’s like…leave me alone!
Onwards…my parents said we were “going to the beach”. Riiight. We just kept driving and driving AROUND the beach until we stopped to eat (I was not hungry). I was a bit pissed. Then my parents got into an arguement and crap. So then after we finished eating they said “Fine, then we won’t go to the beach. Let’s just go home.” I was like “WHATTTTT?!!!!!” (In my head). We drove all that way to Malibou to eat and go back home. Goooosh.
After driving a bit, the car goes all funky. We pulled over and parked. Surprisingly, other people parked their cars there and walked to the beach. We decided to go to the beach. It was a long walk. When we got there we were all still angry. We didn’t do anything except stare. Didn’t get into the water or anything. “Let’s go home. We’re not doing anything here,” says Mom. Mom and dad start heading back to the car. At this point I was like “WTFFFFFFFFFF?!!!!” I felt like smacking something. I did the next best thing and kicked the floor a lot.
We walked the long path, got back in the car, and headed back home. Then I remembered that the car was still funky. It kept jerking and the lights went funky when you step on the gas. We had to pull over, and wait for the car to go back in order. Then we’d go back on the road. We repeated this countless times. If we went on like that we would have arrived home after a couple of days, lol.
We had to call a tow truck. Took about an hour for them to arrive while I suffocated in the car. The guy finally came and hooked the car up and crap. We hopped in the truck and headed home. Bumpy, bumpy ride. The driver’s name was Mike (I think…lol). He was exactly how I’d picture truck drivers. Western accent, whole uniform thing, rock/country music, and hearty laugh. We heard his “horror” story (truck accident) that happened three years ago. Man. I HATE car crashes. They injure and kill SO many people….
Yeah…so now I’m finally finally home. I regret going on that trip. But the trucker guy was cool. Nice guy. At the moment the BMW is funky. We’ll have to get it fixed soon. At the moment my dad is being a child. He’s angry and all he is doing is stomping around the house, deliberately banging on things, not talking. My mom took me shopping today (last minute shopping…) and she said she loved my brother and me, but she wasn’t so sure about my dad. That kind of worries me…gosh…do you think marriage counciling actually works…?
Noo…school starts tomorrow. I will end up lost or something like a fool. Sounds fun.
Gosh. I feel so guilty. I bet you’re tired of me saying that, but I am feeling very guilty =( I’ll stop saying it, since I know you’re tired of hearing it…lol…