If it gets dark, don’t get scare. There’s so much waiting for you.
Hello Darlings,
Have I mentioned I've missed you, lately?
Because, I do. Very muchly so.
...
July rocks by at lightening speed. And Christmas is quickly approaching. [okay, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration. But, you know what I mean, don't you?]
I just got back from Arizona. Thank the gods for the monsoon season, because the first night we drove out, the temperature was 113-degree. And that was 8pm.
It was one of the most fun road trips in my life. We drove through the scenic drive at night. Since it was night time, we didn't see much scenery except the occasional passing of what I called the "Bates Motel" and shadowy terrains that the light of the full moon offered us. Scenic drive turns Texas Chainsaw Massacre backroad when Cory put his foot down and decided we must stop for gas or die in the desert land.
I heard the sound of the vultures circling over our heads in the dark sky.
The lonely gas station in the middle of nowhere was scary. The mini-mart was even scarier. The door was metal barred and tinted dark, with all the windows boarded up. Cory and Rachael got out of the vehicle to stretch while Tiffanie and I huddled up inside the car like scare little kittens, listening silently to the loud gurgling noise that came out from the car's radiator.
"Aren't you going to the bathroom?" I don't remember was it Rachael or Cory.
"No thanks. I think the place just scared my pee away." I said as I held on dearly to an empty cup, in case of emergency.
The trip continued with campfire road trip stories of Jeeper Creepers, Saws, the Hills have Eyes, and that X-file episode of the crawler lady psycho killer. I kept my eyes out warily into the distance of what I can see under the moonlit night. Casting shadows of thousand suspicious tumbleweed army silently stalk us, waiting for the chance - when we are not looking - to uproot themselves and move in closer to attack us and suck out the nutritious gray matter in our brain.
Scary scenic chainsaw massacre drive aside, we had lots of fun and ate lots of junk foods. The company was delightful. We joked around and picked on each other. Tiff and I pretended to be annoying kids while we made Cory and Rachael played mommy and daddy.
We stayed in a haunted room, pungent with the smell of curry. The doorknob wouldn't lock and the door chain was broken. The air condition kept turning itself on even when we turned the unit off. Tiffany heard Indian chanting from the drain while she was taking a bath. And a roaming tumbleweed tried to penetrate through the fence outside of our window so it can come in and kill me in my sleep. We got Chinese food and we ate while watching the thunder storm and the lightening moved in closer and closer. It was an electrifying natural dinner laser show.
Tiff is a great roommate. She didn't grunt and grumble when I tossed and turned and do summersault backflips on the bed in the middle of the night. She doesn't mind if I snorted or snored or made the bathroom stinky. We had an understanding of human body functions, what is appropriate in public, and what is appropriate when you just hang out with your friend in a private room.
It was an excellent crew of nifty cool people. I am always super-cautious of my sense of humor, prone to make a harsh-but-true statements which acquaintances may easily take offense.
I was able to be me: cynical, dramatic, humorous, imaginative, childish, and a colorful pathological chronic liar story teller.
Anyway, I had so much fun with this group of friends that I cannot wait for a regroup and escape out of town with them again. and again. and again.
Best of all, we have one common love and language. The whole group speaks Horses! XD
Have I mentioned I've missed you, lately?
Because, I do. Very muchly so.
...
July rocks by at lightening speed. And Christmas is quickly approaching. [okay, maybe that is a bit of an exaggeration. But, you know what I mean, don't you?]
I just got back from Arizona. Thank the gods for the monsoon season, because the first night we drove out, the temperature was 113-degree. And that was 8pm.
It was one of the most fun road trips in my life. We drove through the scenic drive at night. Since it was night time, we didn't see much scenery except the occasional passing of what I called the "Bates Motel" and shadowy terrains that the light of the full moon offered us. Scenic drive turns Texas Chainsaw Massacre backroad when Cory put his foot down and decided we must stop for gas or die in the desert land.
I heard the sound of the vultures circling over our heads in the dark sky.
The lonely gas station in the middle of nowhere was scary. The mini-mart was even scarier. The door was metal barred and tinted dark, with all the windows boarded up. Cory and Rachael got out of the vehicle to stretch while Tiffanie and I huddled up inside the car like scare little kittens, listening silently to the loud gurgling noise that came out from the car's radiator.
"Aren't you going to the bathroom?" I don't remember was it Rachael or Cory.
"No thanks. I think the place just scared my pee away." I said as I held on dearly to an empty cup, in case of emergency.
The trip continued with campfire road trip stories of Jeeper Creepers, Saws, the Hills have Eyes, and that X-file episode of the crawler lady psycho killer. I kept my eyes out warily into the distance of what I can see under the moonlit night. Casting shadows of thousand suspicious tumbleweed army silently stalk us, waiting for the chance - when we are not looking - to uproot themselves and move in closer to attack us and suck out the nutritious gray matter in our brain.
Scary scenic chainsaw massacre drive aside, we had lots of fun and ate lots of junk foods. The company was delightful. We joked around and picked on each other. Tiff and I pretended to be annoying kids while we made Cory and Rachael played mommy and daddy.
We stayed in a haunted room, pungent with the smell of curry. The doorknob wouldn't lock and the door chain was broken. The air condition kept turning itself on even when we turned the unit off. Tiffany heard Indian chanting from the drain while she was taking a bath. And a roaming tumbleweed tried to penetrate through the fence outside of our window so it can come in and kill me in my sleep. We got Chinese food and we ate while watching the thunder storm and the lightening moved in closer and closer. It was an electrifying natural dinner laser show.
Tiff is a great roommate. She didn't grunt and grumble when I tossed and turned and do summersault backflips on the bed in the middle of the night. She doesn't mind if I snorted or snored or made the bathroom stinky. We had an understanding of human body functions, what is appropriate in public, and what is appropriate when you just hang out with your friend in a private room.
It was an excellent crew of nifty cool people. I am always super-cautious of my sense of humor, prone to make a harsh-but-true statements which acquaintances may easily take offense.
I was able to be me: cynical, dramatic, humorous, imaginative, childish, and a colorful pathological chronic liar story teller.
Anyway, I had so much fun with this group of friends that I cannot wait for a regroup and escape out of town with them again. and again. and again.
Best of all, we have one common love and language. The whole group speaks Horses! XD