Saturday, July 16, 2011

Long Live Long-windedness

Before I get to the actual point of this post I just wanted to say something! I reread what I wrote last night and I realized something. I started three sentences in a row by writing: so far. Oh, and just so you know, I was just joking about people not showing up at practice because I was there. I know Lupita would never do that to me! ;) ... And it also would have been more fun if she had been there. I mean, we are best friends and all.

Isn't it terrible the day you have to start explaining every thing you write. Because after you write it you realize that you might accidently hurt someone's feelings with what you write as a joke. So I figured I better go ahead and take care of this right now. Hmmm ... I guess a good lesson for me would be to just stop writing anything that might unknowingly offend someone. But if I do not write what pops into my head, what will I write? Okay, enough drivel!

Now to the POINT:
My dad got home from Veracruz last night. And let's just say that he was a bit ... sore in the posterior region. Not literally, but figuratively. I asked him to write down the whole story of his trip for me, but he refused to do that. Okay, actually, he never gave me answer. But I could tell by the look in his eyes that his answer would've been, "I'm too busy." And I can't remember the whole story because while he was telling it my mum and I kept cracking corny jokes,and then the pizza man showed up and then my brother ... Okay, the point is that he was interrupted so many times that I have forgotten how many times they ran out of gas on the way to and from Veracruz.

In fact, my dad's not even here right now (because he went to go visit a young couple who just had their second child, a baby girl. AWWW!). So I can't go ask him to dictate the story to me. So I will just butcher my way through the story.

My dad left early Monday morning. Leaving behind a broken-hearted dog who cried his heart out (my dog, Baxter). He woke me up with all that crying. And to my surprise it wasn't so bright and early. It was, in fact, ten o'clock. So I said, "Oh, it's still early. I think I'll sleep for a few more hours ... zzz." So I went back to bed ... Oh, wait, this story isn't about me. :D

My dad went to go get the church van and picked up the two ministers who were accompanying him on the trip. And along they drove to Mexico City and to Puebla. Somehow they ran out of gas ... or am I mistaken? Was there a leak? I can't remember. Anyways, the gist of the whole story was that they ran out of gas so many times that they were either ripped off at the gas station or someone siphoned out there gas at the hotel my dad stayed at.

Did you know that here in Mexico you cannot pump your own gas? No where. At any time. So these crooked *cough cough* men will somehow cheat you. I'm not sure how they do it. But the price that shows up on the screen is wat too much for the ammount of fuel they pumped in. But there's no way to prove that they tampered with it (that's why you have to watch them like a hawk. Because if not they get ... sticky fingers, shall we say). This was the main reason why my dad's feathers were all ruffled, as the saying go.

So you're wondering how the services went in Veracruz? Well, they had a good turn out, about forty people. But, according to Pastor Loa, something was a bit off. But he wouldn't stay afterwards to eat (because they serve stuff like armadillo ... not that my dad doesn't eat stuff like that) so they never got a chance to talk to him. But before you know it all of the problems came to light.

Did you know that Veracruz women have fist fights? Well, apparently they do. That stuck out to me the most out of the stories my dad was telling us. Two women getting into a fist fight because one was trying to tell the other how to discipline her kids. HAHAHAHA! Uh, sorry. I told my dad, "Maybe I should go down there and teach them how to be ladies ... *BURP*!" (We were gathered around our kitchen table eating pizza at this time). My family looked at me like, "Yeah, right." I guess because of the way I was sitting. See, I sorta sit like a frog at the table. I put my two feet up on the chair. This is something that I have done since I was a little kid. My parents never corrected me and so I still sit that was to this day (except when visitors are at our house ... then, of course, I act ladyish-like). I mean, I am not comfortable unless I am sitting that way. My dad always makes fun of me and says that one day when they come visit me at my house that my husband and children will all be sitting at the table like that. :D (Oh, and just know that I didn't really burp ... I NEVER DO THAT! That's something that I always leave to ... well, someone that I will leave unnamed).

Anyways, where was I? I forgot what I was talking about. Arg ... I wonder if I have ADD?? NAW! Not me! Hmmm ... oh, something else that happened! I promise this will be my last story. I guess my dad is the only one privelidged enough to stay at a hotel while anybody who tags along on the trip has to stay with the people on their property, in the "houses." I don't know. They sleep in these ... hammock thingys. But, anyways, Bro. Cartas (a minister in our church) went to go to bed one night and there was a HUGE, BLACK, scorpion on his bed! Hahahaha! Okay, I suppose that isn't that funny! But he didn't want to stay there after that!

I know I promised that I wouldn't tell anymore stories, but I have one more. Did I ever tell ya'll about my run in with a scorpion?! One time on our many trips to the US we had to stay in Texas for three months (it's a long, boring explanation that I will spare you). Well, a Pastor rented us a little house and the people in the church let us borrow beds and stuff. So my sister and I were in our room sitting on the floor. We had her laptop sitting on the bed (our feet were under the bed) and we were playing a Nancy Drew game. So there we are just sitting there when all of the sudden: WHOOSH! Something runs over my hand! I glanced down and saw a tail disappearing under a shoe that was just lying on the floor. I jumped up and started jumping up and down screaming, "SCORPION! SCORPION!" (You have to understand that I was fifteen at the time!)Everyone came rushing into the room. But no one believed me until we lifted up the shoe. So I caught him and kept him (until he accidentally escaped and went who knows where ... ooops!). That's also the same house where we caught a baby snake crawling around inside.

I never knew that there were scorpions in Texas before that. That's sad. I know very little about the state I was born in! Yeah, and I'm proud of it! Being born there, that is! I would rather say "ya'll" than "you guys" any day. You California folks ruin the English language! ;)

Okay, this is a long post with no pictures. But I think my dad forgot to take a camera with him. I will ask him later when he gets home. If there were any pictures I might just post them for ya'll!!

Okay, Peace and Love!

1 comment:

Hannah said...

Lol I know where y'all were in tx!...I think! Haha! :-) miss ya!