A silly and epicly long LJ post
So most of you got a slew of text messages from me completely pissed off and freaking the fuck out about sister's fiance's Bachelor Party because when I first showed up all the guys were total and complete assholes. Like, seriously, what the fuck. All of a sudden everyone just leaves me in the house by myself without anyone telling me where the fuck anyone is going. What the hell? You don't do that.
So I'm none to happy, and Jaime and Daniel and French are all amazing and working towards the achievement of my rescue, and for that, I fucking love you guys.
What basically ended up happening was that we ended up on the house boat and although Jaime was on her way to save me, there was going to be no way she was going to pick me up anywhere, and so our plan was defeated and I was just going to have to tough it out.
To put it in perspective, it's like that Simpson's episode where Bart cheats on the aptitude test and gets sent to the genius school where he just does not fit in. Not to say the guys were necessarily dumb or anything, some of them were pretty bright guys in there own right, but dude, I just did not fucking fit in.
As in, if I heard the phrase "DUDE let's go find some PUSSY!" one more time I was going to vomit. Everywhere.
So the weekend basically consisted of people sitting on the second level drinking beer and then talking, and then moving to the first level and then drinking and talking, and then repeating these steps aaaaaaaaall weekend. There was a water slide that provided a lot of fun, and a few ski doos (or, sk-dooos as they liked to say) but you know what there was not?
You know what belongs at all bachelor parties that was not at this one?
There was NO stripper! There was NO STRIPPER. How was there no stripper!? The ONE thing I was actually looking forward to was completely absent.
So the days went on and people talked and so much loud rock and roll was heard, and so I decided I was tired of it and just ended up taking two naps a day. That was my plan, and I succeeded in it.
Although at one point one guy decided, hey, it's a good idea to light off some fire works that he has not idea how to properly light, and after lighting the first 3 or so, he goes on to light the fourth one, and the second that he does he yells "Oh FUCK!", attempts to dive for cover, and then the fire work literally just EXPLODES all over him in a shower of colored lights.
So I mean, it was a pretty awkward weekend, and it finally comes to a close and lemme tell ya, I'd never been so happy to see a sign pointing west indicating that California was in that direction. I was ready to go home and get the hell out of Arizona.
And so I'm pretty pumped cuz we're on the road, but you know what happens? The icing on the cake. As we're driving, the driver throws on my most favorite band ever.
System of a Fucking Down.
I hate that band. I hate that band with my entire being, like, I cannot describe how much I truly detest that god damn band. And so of course we have to listen to the entire CD and I pretty much try not to growl and snarl the entire time.
But I finally make it home, and decide its time to shower after being nasty for like four days straight.
And that was the lame bachelor party.
The next month is going to unbelievably difficult on me. See, I've never liked change, and over the next couple weeks EVERYTHING is going to change.
Andrew has just left and is leaving for Canada tomorrow.
I'm moving out of the apartment end of this week, beginning of next.
Family is arriving for wedding next week.
Laura's getting married in two weekends.
(Possibly will be trying my damndest to see Andrew before I leave by flying up to Canadia)
Going away party/Going away.
It's just such a complete mind fuck. I mean, I'm sort of going to be a vagabond for a little while. I'll be at home, but not at home, I won't really have any real place to stay.
And then I go into worry mode. What's going to happen in Spain? Will I be able to find an internship? What's going to happen when I get back? Where am I going to live? What the fuck am I going to do for work? Is this Andrew thing going to work out? This shit is scary. And when I think about it all at once, I just... no. Just no.
So all of this comes down to at some point in time near the end of September I want to have a going away dinner that will involve eating food and the drinking lots of drinks, maybe some dwimming, you know, all that good stuff, because I'm going to miss all of you fucking guys like woah.
Like. Fucking. Woah.
Okay, I feel so much better now.