Preparing for my Trip to California: Post #1

So I am now going by myself, as the lone Flag Representative of the Quixotic USay. Too many things have to be done around here and abroad, and my dad can't get Monday off. The way I look at it, it'll just be one long, extended, 4-day-long Wednesday night. I wish I had a good hat to wear. I don't wear hats well. They tend to wear me. I'll bring my "I'm sad" hat, which is probably the second hat I've ever liked in my entire life.

I'm planning to travel with the Pastor Raw Justice and at least one other (Mick Lock), but I'll probably be sent to travel with the Bruckners, so that Mrs. Lock can travel with her son. Old people are usually fun to ride with. All you have to do is be very, very quiet, only speak when spoken to, and they get all impressed and stuff. They can even forget about you, if they like. But usually, they start treating you like the perfect grandchild they never had: "Hey, Kev, want to stop and pick up an ice cream cone?" "Oh, sure, granddy!"

It may sound like a sweet gig, but not when it comes to actual food. "And one happy meal for my grandson here!"



I've finally figured out the teenage angst: it isn't teenage angst at all, it's stress! I'm now free! Yes! Liberated from the crushing jaws of the teenage angst. Stress is easily handled- depression that isn't actually depression is not. It's like trying to pull a tooth by giving someone a haircut. You may have heard of the Kev Conscious...ah...I'll explain it later.

I was getting fed up with all the theories. "Maybe you don't think you'll ever meet anyone. Maybe you'll come back from California with grandchildren!...triplets!" my mom breathlessly suggests.

"Maybe you hate Pastor Raw." "Maybe...why would I hate Pastor?" "Because he first hated you?!?! LOL, I JOHN 4:19 BABY!" my dad laughs. Great one, pops. Just great.


I'll need clothes to last 3 days, my camera camcorder laptop and their respective chargers, 4 1-hour miniDV tapes, 2 SD cards (one 1 GB, one 2 GB), on and on and on. I'd also like to bring some powdered paper towels...just add water, and poof! Paper towel!

And some socks. Whew. I figure I'll need 40 pairs of socks to get me through the weekend. And I'll need to bring two pairs of shoes.


Speaking of which, it's laundry time. I have so few clean clothes, --- That's a bad joke...I'm going to cross it out in editing.

Then I need to do a load of dishes and start dinner. We're having steak...pounded flat and covered in breading! My favorite kind of steak! I'll be having a side of black-eyed peas. I bake them in the toaster oven just until they lose their nutty flavor. They're all dry and stuff, it's great.


OK, one load of laundry done. On the second load, I realized that IT WAS SET TO MINI, and it was supposed to be set to extra-awesome ultra double-sized steel-chain-wash-mode! GREAT! No wonder that first load of laundry smelled like a pile of dead, rotting corpses when I transferred them to the dryer!...oh well, if I don't tell anyone, no one will know, just like that time that cat poop found its way into the wash. They wouldn't of know if I hadn't of told them.


Milking is done. I milked those goats so quickly, two of them now have what could be called hemorrhoids on their udders. I have to process the milk, still.

OK, the milk is processed. I got most of the clothing washed for this weekend, except for the socks. I need to get my DS all together, and Dad advised me to take a plastic bag to bag up all of my filthy, smelly clothing. Uh, yeah...my clothing doesn't tend to get filthy and smelly after I've worn it for one day to a glorified Bible study. Speaking of Bible study, if Don Feldick doesn't come to Bible study tomorrow, I'm going to be saddened. Heaviness of heart, all that.

I contacted Pastor Raw Justice to let him know it would only be me. He said something along the lines of "Oh...are you sure you don't want to just stay home too Kevin, maybe your mom could go instead of both of you, or yeah, the better option is that none of you go you guys get a lot of things done that you want to do. Like covering hay or milking pigs or building maternity wards or whatever."

There's not that much to do, not too much that I can't go and represent the church! Yes, they'll be like, "Wow, Pastor...what a dead group you have here, I wouldn't want to be handcuffed to any of them when they died," then they'd see me and go, "Wow! Quality over quantity! That boy's anointed, make way!" They'd push down old ladies and randomly stop and momentarily choke people on their way to me.

"Oh, yes, I taught him everything he knows," Pastor would say. "Well boy-howdy, every single day of your life hasn't been a miserable waste, after all!" his dad would chime in. "This boy is the future! We must build him a megachurch!"


I would react with typical humility...I don't have a proud bone in my body! Anyway, I've still got to make a more detailed list of what I need (my mom pledged to help with this), read up on California some (there have to be some good eateries on the "strip." I really don't know if it's called "the strip," from what I know, 95% of land in California is "on the strip." I need to find out weapons laws especially. I think a Bible is considered a weapon of some sort.)