I Used to Be Really Funny

and maybe I still am. A little.

I was sorting through some stuff on my computer, trying to make my life happy and orderly again, when I came across a word document title "blog update." Now given the date of this document and its title, I'm not sure where I was intending to upload/post it since I hadn't created a blog yet, but here I am four years later, finally posting it. Well posting one day of it.

I found this entry to be particularly funny, and part of it explains my dad's and mine relationship to a T. So enjoy the thoughts of a once younger me.

(Context: this was the first post--actually one of only two posts--about our cruise after my graduation in 2010).

Sunday July 4

           

     We left the quiet town of Copperas Cove in our dust at the weeeee hour of 5 am :/. For the next 10 hours, we drove. And drove. Until we made it to NEW ORLEANS! Oma and Opa were already at the hotel, early and impatient as usual. Dad, Kim, Gary (the GPS) and I drove and almost got lost going to the airport to pick up the aunt and uncle. Yeah. The GPS almost got us LOST. It happens?

Looking through a phone book, there are hardly any good restaurants around our hotel. But there is a Red Lobster. Great. I settle for a salad since seafood is disgusting to me.

Dinner talk is fabulous as we all catch up. Mom and Dad brag about me as usual. When the talk of grades comes up, I say “Yeah I only got one ‘B’. Fourth grade language arts. An 84.” To which my dad replies, “We should send a letter to that teacher and tell her she stained your perfect record.” I look at him in disbelief. “She’s DEAD,” I say. I’m nearly in tears from laughter as my dad puts his foot in his mouth.

After thoroughly enjoying my SALAD, we went back to the hotel to watch fireworks. On the way home from dinner, I realize that I am very glad my MOTHER taught me how to DRIVE. Stopped at a red light, waiting to turn left into our hotel’s neighborhood, I feel my dad’s foot easing off the brake. “NO LEFT ON RED!” I yell. “Oh,” he says quietly. When the light turn greens, he turns to me for approval before turning left. I nod. We all (aunt and uncle included) laugh as we head for the hotel. Up ahead, there is a stop sign. 500 ft. 300 ft. 100 ft. “DAD! Are you gonna STOP?” Again he replies, “oh,” and heeds my warning. As we finally, safely pull into a parking spot in front of the hotel, my dad looks at me and says, “Why is your face red? Are you embarrassed because you corrected me?” “No,” I reply, “I’m embarrassed FOR YOU.”

 Standing in our hotel room watching explosions of color through a dirty window, we realize that my aunt’s room had a LOVELY balcony from which we could view MORE fireworks more easily. After watching nearly 5 different sets of fireworks, we decided to call it a night. I, of course, couldn’t go to sleep without finishing the Bree Tanner book which CONVENIENTLY had no CHAPTERS.