In Other Words
Created | Updated Jun 9, 2004
Well, school's out and summer has arrived, so you know what that means! Sunburns, bug bites, and the occasional bout of poison ivy? Sure!
But summer also marks the beginning of everyone's excuse to waste hundreds of dollars over a very short amount of time--summer vacations! Woooee! This article, however, will not focus on the vacation. Nor will it focus on the preparation or destination. I will merely write about the ungodly twelve hour car ride. Yes--twelve hours in the same car with the same people. Crazy? More than you'll ever know.
I set off with Skullock's family at the horrific hour of seven a.m. The car imprisoned me, Skullock, his mom, dad, brother, and grandmother. Our eventual destination? Texas. A state in the U.S. known mainly for being very large, but not so large as to beat out Alaska, but we 48 connected states often forget we own Alaska anyway.1 Hours 1-4 of the trip weren't horrible--I slept. Things just CAN'T go wrong when you're asleep! That is until you wake up and find that the advanced yoga position you were sleeping in doesn't do well with your spinal cord after three hours. Plus the 18 suitcases, 12 bags of chips, 48 cans of pop, 3 dozen pillows, and various humanoid bodies make sitting in any other position absolutely out of the question.
Hours 4-8 brought severe bouts of hostility. Apparently, humans carry a cranky gland in their buttocks, and sitting on it for extended periods of time releases the cranky hormone. Non-stop rants of -
'Move your bag!'
'My bag's not in your way!'
'Yes it is, see here--it's touching my leg hair!'
Well then why don't you stop using my book as a coaster?'
'Because the coasters are all full of YOUR empty pop cans!
To which the two parties politely come to a compromise by ramming their portable CD players down the other's throat. Those who slept past the four hour mark now have their necks bent permanently over and consequently can't drink their beverages with very much ease. Time becomes increasingly slower. Slower, taunting you with its incessant ticking...the rivers of time have hit a dam and can't break through. Your male companions are beginning to sprout facial hair, even though they shaved right before you left. You're now entirely certain the trip will never end. Caught forever in an endless time warp that keeps looping...looping...You've slipped through an eddy in the space-time continuum and cannot escape. It's not until you realize that you'll have an equally lengthy trip home that the REAL insanity sets in.
Hours 8-12 are sheer pandemonium. The caffeine supply has dwindled dangerously low--down to one can--which the vehicle occupants battle over with whichever pointy objects they can find. Skullock's grandmother continues her painstaking conversational methods of pointing out the sickeningly obvious. 'Look! A Cow! Look! A Tree! Is that grass? Are we in Texas yet? I have hands! Oh my, look! The sky!' She has since been thrown from the vehicle. I had finished my 560 page book on the trip--all of it--and much worried about what in God's name I'd have to do on the way home. Our arrival ('Look! We've stopped!') came to much celebration. I personally rejoiced by falling out of the van and throwing myself on the ground for a good long while--I'd forgotten what it felt like.
To get a feel for the ride home, please re-read everything I previously said, because it happened in much the same fashion. It seems history has taken a keen liking to repeating itself. To arrive home--as I have as of yet not--will indeed be a momentous occasion. I'll probably celebrate with a good long nap, as is the norm in this situation. Oh, and don't worry Alaska--I know you're up there!
Your Little h2g2'er,
