Magic Eight Ball Part Deux

So where was I?

Oh. I remember. No power. A toddler. A dead mini-van and lots of awkward silence.

Yeah. We were on our way to eat. We ended up at this lil' restaurant by the ocean. Nice. But face it. I'm tired. We're tired. We're starving. So we just order what we please on the menu (I ordered some delish shrimp), but Miss C is getting restless. A kid can only take so much. She had behaved so nicely but she was at her wits. She starts banging on the table with the silverware...banging hard...making mucho noise, causing stares from the rest of the paying patrons. I try to calm her down, make her peep down a bit and she decides that the best way to get back at her bitch-ass-mom-who-doesn't-wanna-have-fun is to stab her with a fork. Mutliple times. After bout' the 5th stab I decide that it's enough. I scold her and all hell breaks loose. She reminded me of "BOO" from Monster's Inc., with the wailing and everything. So, I in return, to avoid further mortification and embarrassment on our table, decide to crunk up the bozo-the-clown-my-mom-is-on-crack meter, proceeding to make silly noises, faces, eventually calming her down.

After our meal, we head back. Electricity is back on. After some crappy TV we decide we need a liquor refill, but alas, after our short walk to the store, it was too late.


After this we decided it was time to get to bed. At 2am I get a call from the other room:

"Is your A/C working?"
"Umm..come to think of it...No...It's fucking hot" MOI

Seems like during our off & on electricity boogaloo our A/C's went haywire.

My room had no ceiling fan or windows.

We stood in the hallway for what seemed an eternity trying to figure out a master plan to get the A/C's working. None worked. I mean "beating them with the broom handle" and "setting them on fire" weren't too well thought out.

We decided to face the heat and go to bed.

Couple hours later Miss C is up. I decide to make some soup in the "Polly Pocket" microwave only to spill half of it in there, cuz the door didn't open compeletly. We all decide we need to go take a last dip in the "Death Pool" before we leave. We go in for a while. Leave. Get out shit together and get the fuck out.

Not before, Murphy decides to rip out a hell of another rainstorm, making us take so many wrong turns we forgot to keep track.

Finally 3 hours later, as Empress would say, we were back in "Baya-Bronx". I didn't think I would be so happy to get back to my contaminated-traffic-filled-construction-polluted town. The sign to "Baya-Bronx" was the equivalent of a sign from GOD.

We all had a miserable time. I am guessing that, since I tried to apologize for the crappy weekend I lured everyone into, and no one offered words of encouragement like:

"Oh, don't worry. We had a nice time..blah blah blah"

The silence translated more into: "Die Bitch".

So, my bags were literally left the bottom of my stairway and I was left in my garage to take my bags upstairs and sulk in my misery.

Two days later (Tuesday), I am still working out my fucked up van issue, and I have not heard from any of the parties involved in my Magic Eight Ball trip.

So the question remains:
Empress, you still think your up to traveling with me?

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