This is like, the worst holiday ever.
Hours upon hours, days upon days of being stuck in a car for long, bumpy rides. Mother of all headaches. Headache about a mother.
I thought holidays were supposed to be relaxing, so a person could get away from daily busyness and recharge his batteries. Only my parents are capable of turning relaxation and enjoyment into a chore.
Up well before 9 and not getting back till dark (that, in late August, means after 9), these hours are worse than any job I've ever done. Being left for dead in the car without keys or facilities in the vicinity, yeah, that's just my idea of fun.
Did I ask to come to Yellowstone? No. Yeah it's all nice and pretty, the geysers bubbling and churning and splashing and spitting amongst the most barren landscape I've ever seen with mine own eyes. But do I care to come here with my parents and their friends and their friend's friends?? Gosh no. Was I involved in any planning? Heck no. I'm just dragged around like a kid. A poor 21-year-old "kid" with his ass numb from all the sitting, totally not wanting to be here. Hell, a dog being walked by his owner gets more of a choice of where to go.
Maybe when I finally get married, they'll learn to let me decide where I want to do my holidaying, and whether I want them around.
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