My endless day.
I worked from 830PM yesterday to 600AM today, they went to Denny's with Rafael after running around Indio for a while. We watched the rain and then the sun come up from our window. It was cool. We were there for about 4 hours, just hanging out and eating and such.
I headed home and called Gramma and Poppa and told them that we wouldn't be able to do lunch--that was cool, they would do dinner instead, at 630PM.
The wash on Frank Sinatra was a river. No shit. People had stopped their cars and were out taking pictures. It had to have been at least 50-100 feet wide. And rapids. Real. Live rapids. I wanted to get the camera from home, but I was too tired. Century Park was a lake. The park is about 6 feet below street level and was flooded to street level. The wind was bending the trees down and the sky was deep blue with fast, huge clouds and it was still sprinkling--however the hell that was happening. I thought the world was ending, but I didn't mind--it was almost nice, for all of that to have been my last experience on this earth...
My parents were in a three car pile-up tonight. The Honda is gone. The fucker that hit them hit them from behind at full speed. My dad forced his way out and wrenched my mom from the car. El Bastardo got out, looked at his brand-new SUV, got on his cell, and bolted on foot. If the fucking cops don't catch this guy, I'm going to shoot some one. Two thoughts come to mind: 1) An illegal? 2) A drunk? Which ever one, I don't care--I just want to see that fucker pay for putting both my parents in the hospital.
They're both okay. They're home and resting now. I took care of everything--it's all I could do. In situations like that, my mind becomes hyper-actively ordered, and I get shit done.
Thank God for the plans that got fucked up and that my grandparents were there--they didn't have to drive from Morongo to get to the hospital.
Monica, Ryan, and EErie--my angels. Thank you. All of them jumping at the call to lend support and humor and love--and EErie to take Little Brother home and get everyone food.
Everything is going to be okay...I know one thing form sure though, I'm going to sleep like the dead tonight.
I headed home and called Gramma and Poppa and told them that we wouldn't be able to do lunch--that was cool, they would do dinner instead, at 630PM.
The wash on Frank Sinatra was a river. No shit. People had stopped their cars and were out taking pictures. It had to have been at least 50-100 feet wide. And rapids. Real. Live rapids. I wanted to get the camera from home, but I was too tired. Century Park was a lake. The park is about 6 feet below street level and was flooded to street level. The wind was bending the trees down and the sky was deep blue with fast, huge clouds and it was still sprinkling--however the hell that was happening. I thought the world was ending, but I didn't mind--it was almost nice, for all of that to have been my last experience on this earth...
My parents were in a three car pile-up tonight. The Honda is gone. The fucker that hit them hit them from behind at full speed. My dad forced his way out and wrenched my mom from the car. El Bastardo got out, looked at his brand-new SUV, got on his cell, and bolted on foot. If the fucking cops don't catch this guy, I'm going to shoot some one. Two thoughts come to mind: 1) An illegal? 2) A drunk? Which ever one, I don't care--I just want to see that fucker pay for putting both my parents in the hospital.
They're both okay. They're home and resting now. I took care of everything--it's all I could do. In situations like that, my mind becomes hyper-actively ordered, and I get shit done.
Thank God for the plans that got fucked up and that my grandparents were there--they didn't have to drive from Morongo to get to the hospital.
Monica, Ryan, and EErie--my angels. Thank you. All of them jumping at the call to lend support and humor and love--and EErie to take Little Brother home and get everyone food.
Everything is going to be okay...I know one thing form sure though, I'm going to sleep like the dead tonight.