Adventures in Rob's Mom's Car

God damn! What an eventful day. I woke up this morning not to the sound of my alarm (which I had meant to), but to, once again, my obnoxious mother bringing the dog upstairs to yip at me and wake me quite too suddenly. I hate it when my mom nags me about not getting enough sleep. I think she fails to notice that I'm no longer a wraith-like insomniac when I wake up. I'd stay that way if she'd keep out of my fucking bedroom every morning. Also, my dad is getting this habit of waking up at 2:12 AM, unable to get back to sleep- and, wanting to get some work done in the kitchen, he turns all the fucking lights on. Generally, my cat sneaks out of my bedroom sometime in the night, opening the door by several inches, which allows that damnable mix of flourescent and bulb light to pour into my room and drill into my eyelids. I'm kind of sensitive to light when I'm sleeping, so it pisses me off. But I don't want to go downstairs and ask him to turn some of the lights off, because he walks around in his underwear. Even if he were a male supermodel, I wouldn't want to stare at him in his undergarments, but my dad suffers from a state called "Lazy-Assed Beer Chugging Syndrome", making him less than presentable in a shirtless state. Ugh.

So, once I got the dog hair out of my mouth and had some orange juice, my mother and I were off for another dentist appointment- this time (I thought) to get the crown put on my fucked up tooth. But, was this the end of the drilling and poking my poor enamel companion? No! It's a temporary crown! I have to go back in and let them force-feed me more antiseptic on August 4th. What the fuck? If this is temporary, what did they fill the tooth with at the endodontics office? I hate, hate, HATE dentistry.

And of course, I thought the appointment was later in the day, but it turned out to be at about ten o'clock. This caused me to nearly missed my scheduled workout routine with my neighbors Sterling and Shawn. The soreness in my arms and chest has escalated beyond the initial weakness one feels after overtaxing muscle tissue, and moved into the burning pain of lactic acid. Mmm. Fermentation in my cells! I shall remember to stretch extensively tomorrow morning before Mr.Morris calls me to mow lawns. Imma make me some moneys.

Promptly after the workout and a shower, Sterling and I wearily lugged our computer hardware out to the Morris family's fugly red and black suburban for a LAN party. We get in, turn the car on and crank up the AC, and I sit back (apprehensively) as Sterling proceeds to drive around a culdesac to flip the car in the general direction of our destination (Alex Pankonien's house). His nazi of a mother, upon seeing this illegal yet playful feat, goes psycho-blender and refuses to drive us to our gamingfest. Bitch. I just know she was looking for an excuse to be relieved of the obligation to drive Sterling around. If the malicious Mormon meretrix would quit being so unreasonable and let the poor sap at least get his own driver's license (he's 16!), she wouldn't have to confront him quite so much. I swear. She yells at her children so loudly in her front fucking yard, my father can hear from two houses down and across the street. I paced around for five minutes, bloodthirstily flipping my knife open and closed, while I listened to a lecture telling Sterling that fun is, basically, not allowed. She'd better let him see Kathy when she gets back. I swear to the man that rides his bike around my neighborhood that I'll say something to her about it if she continues to cut up their time together like homemade baby clothes. Masked behind a pleasantly courteous, "I'm concerned for Sterling's well-being" tone, of course. I hate getting involved in family matters, but I don't even think Julia's mother is this bad. Mrs.Morris herds her children around like my mother herds our dogs.

It cost Sterling 30 bucks (not only is she a bitch, she's a money-grubbing one) to buy his freedom and a ride to the LAN party from my mom, but we did make it there. After all, we would've had a band of Mormons, a Catholic and a Baptist beating us with frozen corndogs if we didn't deliver their precious network hub to them, so we couldn't abandon the group. As usual, I got the kickass bar seat in the corner, away from all the arguments about which game to play and why Idiot #8's computer doesn't work. Had my very own sink and microwave, though I learned after one cup of tea that Pankonien's tap water is made of distilled sulfur, and had to retrieve filtered water from the kitchen thereafter.

It was a good LAN party, despite the fact UT2003 crapped out on me the entire time. I did well enough at CS, and annoyed the shit out of people in HLDM with my long jump module+shotgun style of fighting. At seven or so, my mom showed up to cart us and our equipment home. Upon arrival, I hung out at Sterling's for a bit to wait for Halley to show up, as I would've liked to have seen her again before school starts, but Larkin's mom called and, barely enough time to brush my precious ponytail, I was whisked away in Rob's mother's Oldsmobile- accompanied by Rob the chaffeur, Jeremy, and of course, the blue-haired beauty Larkin. Saw Halley drive right by us in her yellow Mustang. That car is cool. Ah, sigh. Old, silly infatuations...

A wonderful time was had by the four of us. We went and saw Anger Management at the dollar theatre, and I must say, it was hucking filarious. Adam Sandler kicks ass. Starbucks afterwords (you're an angel from, well, below Larkin. With beautiful black wings. Thank you for buying me coffee), Army Surplus was closed, Jeremy threw his hot chocolate out the window due to barista incompetence, and we went back to Larkin's cozy bedroom to look at photo albums, play with plastic dollar store guns, and play LETRES while making funny sounds. I think I'm hoarse.

I must say. I am, without a doubt, in love. I almost still haven't accepted the fact that this is all so great with Larkin. That I haven't been dumped after an instant's happiness for reasons circling immaturity and lack of conversation. Something in the back of my mind nags me and says it can't be possible. That I'm dreaming. Another thing has been nagging me, but not when I'm with Larkin. When I'm even slightly depressed, I often have no idea what from- but now I know the uncomfortable sensation stems from missing the girl's touch. I realized it in her van tonight, in my driveway. That warmth and tightness is so... Bach's Air. That's what Larkin holding me feels like. Jesus Christ! I've got someone I can hug! It's such a simple pleasure!