Tag Archives: carlsbad

I Survived July Fourth 2016 So Now I’m Enlisting In The Marines

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Near-death boating incidents, Trump supporters, and other things I survived over July 4th weekend 2016.

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I’m so reckless when I ROCK MY IVY PARK BASEBALL CAP AND BODY SUIT

omg cancel everything quit your job break up with your boyfriend change your name move cities because Beyoncé’s active-wear line is finally here.

ivypark

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Home for Christmas Pt I: The actual house

Welcome to a two-part blog about being home for the holidays. If anyone read the blog about my parents visiting me for a *WEEKEND* then lawd knows me being home for two weeks unrolls enough material for a novel two whole blogs.

This “Part I” blog will cover the living situations I’m subjected to when I come back to live in the house I grew up in for a short period of time. “Part II” will cover things that happened outside the home, you know, like my parents’ form of currency (all but trading livestock and rubies) and handing out bottles of vodka for Christmas.

my parents trying to pay for things when shopping, whether they’re in Dallas or C-bad.

absolut-ely not a commonly gifted Christmas present.

but more on that later.

We’ll start from the very beginning. I flew from Dallas Lovefield to Midland Friday, Dec. 19. I did not know until moving to Dallas how *shocking* it was that I don’t fly directly into my hometown. Mind-blowing, I know, but somehow Metro Carlsbad, U.S.A., doesn’t have its own international airport yet. It’s coming. I’m sure.

Until then, us peasants have to fly into a nearby city, and drive to where I live. It’s like living in the 1800s.

I landed, and my BEST FRIEND WHOM I HAVEN’T SEEN IN TWO YEARS picked me up, so it was really exciting (hi ryan). I told him I was tired and jet lagged and that I needed Dairy Queen. He said I landed in the same time zone but okay.

We “brunched” the next day (we ate our first meal in Carlsbad at noon and subjected ourselves to wine-based margaritas). Then he came over to my house in its pre-big-family-dinner stage.

AKA the trenches of WWII. AKA before their pack-mule-daughter-slave has had a chance to clean the house for the big family dinner. Imagine an abandoned house-size storage unit.

If you’d like to see it for yourself, JUST WALK BY OUR HOUSE THAT IS BASICALLY A FISH BOWL. IT’S A HOUSE MADE OF HUMAN-SIZED WINDOWS.

THE NEAL RESIDENCE

And don’t get me started on the Wi-Fi.

our internet provider

Maybe it’s just my house, maybe it’s the whole town, I’ve yet to bang on neighbors’ doors asking for Wi-Fi services. I swear the Wi-Fi is conducted by a hamster running on a wheel somewhere in the corner of a closet in my home. A fat, tired hamster.

It’s so bad, that even though I have Wi-Fi turned on on my phone, I’ve used up all my data for the month. ALL OF IT. 100%.

If you want to drown your overcharge-data woes in food, then good luck to you when staying at The Neals. I swear, I have no idea what my parents eat when I’m gone.

Contents of the pantry:

  • Four-six opened bags of half-eaten sunflower seeds
  • Condensed milk
  • Bags of dry rice
  • Two of the largest bins of Folgers coffee sold in the world (AKA THE COFFEE-ARMPIT OF AMERICA)
  • Apple cider vinegar (my mom “craves” this which I can’t even comment on because I’ll gag)
  • Seventy-three plastic bottles of varied syrups and honeys
  • Pam
  • Flour
  • Mayonaise
  • Angel food cake
  • One lost sweet  potatoe
  • Gelatin
  • Literally every type of nut sold in south-eastern New Mexico (walnuts, peanuts, pistachios, almonds, NAME A NUT, THE NEALS WILL HAVE IT)
  • Morton salt
  • Hot chocolate packets probably from 2007

And in case you don’t believe me, or care to see the meticulous organized fashion in which the pantry is arranged, please do see the image below.

hi

child abuse???

The fridge is no better. It’s avocados, ginger root, an full, uncovered head of broccoli. All kinds of milk except normal milk. So almond milk, rice milk, goat milk, soy milk. I’m not kidding. And then like four thousand liquid vitamins.

Murder me.

This is a come-home-for-christmas nightmare. WHERE IS HOMEMADE CHEESECAKE, DIRTCAKE, ENCHILADAS OR SOMETHING I CAN REALLY HATE MYSELF FOR EATING?????????????? I DON’T COME HOME TO GO ON A DIET, I LEAVE HOME FOR THAT. HELP ME.

staring into the fridge.

No one is safe until there is a family dinner, after which there is a surplus of leftovers.

No one is safe when you’re sleeping either.

Or at least not in my room, where A WINDOW (CONCEALED BEHIND THE SHUTTERS) HAS BEEN OPEN SINCE I’VE BEEN HOME. So when a cold draft blew in last Tuesday, I GOT A COLD AND I HAD IT FROM WEDNESDAY NIGHT-SATURDAY. Why was the window open? TO ACCOMMODATE FOR A POWER CORD FOR THE FRONT PORCH CHRISTMAS LIGHTS.

HELP.

My mom actually made me the best homemade chicken noodle soup and I’m fine now but it’s hard, y’all, everything is hard.

Other than said events listed above, it’s been a lot of old movies and basketball watching since coming home. I decided I’m a ~*~ D i E h A r D ~*~ Cavaliers fan now. I even liked them on Facebook. I’ll probably blog about it. So it’s official.

I’ve also been googling the price of misc. cars. So apparently I’ve had a sex change since being home. #Basketball #Cars. #ok #bye

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