For the next month, I am on vacation.
I will be in LA for a week, but New York will take up the bulk of my time.
I will be blogging most of my trip to LA, because I have never been to the West Coast before (save for a layover in Seattle once, but I never even left the airport, so does that actually count?) and I am so excited to share it all with you.
Now, my vacation began as most do, with an electric feeling deep inside of me, and an almost disturbing sense of pure happiness and joy. I don't have to work for over a month. I don't have to deal with people I dislike. I don't have to deal with any problems other than the ones I, will inevitably, create myself. It's an amazing feeling to finally be able to come home for a visit.
You see, I haven't been to New York since Christmas. While I have had visits from my mom, sister, and nieces over the past 7 months, it hasn't quite been the same. I have felt so empty. Especially watching them leave. I have lived in North Carolina for 2 years now, and it doesn't get any easier leaving my family.
Now, I really do love North Carolina and those with whom I have become friends, I just honestly believe it won't ever feel like home to me. At least, not fully.
Those of you that don't know me personally may not know this, but I am an extremely pessimistic/realistic person when it comes to situations into which I have put myself. I spent weeks making lists, packing, cleaning, and all around stressing, to make sure that I was all set for my near 30 days at home.
I plan for the worst, most unexpected events to occur.
Always have.
Always will.
If I need to pack for 7 days, I pack for 10-14, just in case my plane crashes and I'm stranded on a desert island, that way I have a few outfit changes available before I die of starvation. I mean, I obviously won't die in the actual crash; I'm not made of glass. If I need to save up 100 dollars to fix my car, I'll save up 500 just in case my car is more broken than originally thought. I can't help it, it's how I was raised.
I like being prepared. If nothing goes wrong, than I am pleasantly surprised instead of vindicated by my original pessimistic thoughts.
A couple days before my drive up the Eastern Seaboard, I went and got the usual maintenance done to my car. Ya know, oil change, tire pressure check, tire rotation; just to make sure all was well.
Naturally, I was prepared for a "Bad Luck Becca" situation (which I so aptly named.) You know, a few last minute issues to occur before I left NC, but what actually happened was even more BLB than normal.
The first thing that happened was my phone committed suicide. I was leaving for NY in 9 hours and my phone decided that it was over living. The screen is just a series of blue and black stripes. Seriously, dead.
I was planning on getting a new phone anyway when I got home, since Apple makes older models of iPhones obsolete the millisecond a new version comes out. BUT THAT IS NOT THE POINT!!! YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED 24 HOURS?!? ONE DAY! That was all I was asking.
I had to run to AT&T and reactivate my old iPhone 4 so I had some way of contacting someone in case I crashed, or broke down, or was kidnapped. Guys, the phone doesn't even have Siri. I was probably better off going phoneless; it is so old.
I'm so lucky that I'm a pack rat and don't throw anything out, because I would have been sincerely fucked.
This isn't even the worst thing that happened that day
My drive was fine. I hit traffic a few times in Virginia, but that wasn't shocking to me. Virginia is the worst state. No, really. I used to be the biggest proponent of the argument that Pennsylvania was the worst, but new life into experiences have since changed my mind.
Everything was going great until I was about 65 miles away from mother's house.
My steering wheel started severely shaking. You know how in old movies people always are moving the steering wheel so dramatically that you know they aren't really driving because they would actually be all over the road? That's what was happening. I pulled over because I honestly thought my tire was flat, when I was satisfied that it wasn't, I got back in the car and drove off. The car, still shaking.
I drove the rest of the way home, with what sounded like a helicopter just flying around in my front seat. I was screaming at my car to stop. I cried a little bit, and by the time I actually got home, my car sounded like it was seconds from exploding.
I was so stressed out that I just went inside and went to bed, immediately after pulling into the driveway. The next morning, as I was unpacking my car, I discovered the problem.
When I got my tires rotated, the fucking mechanic who worked on it, didn't tighten the lug nuts on my wheel. I lost one completely, and the other 4 were so loose that I could tighten them with my hand. I almost lost my entire fucking wheel: tire, rim, everything.
Now, had it only been me in the car, I would have been upset, sure, but I would have calmed down. I had my niece as well was my cat with me, which made me lose my shit when I found out.
My mom had to calm me down because I threatened lawsuit after lawsuit and severe bodily harm on the mechanic who ALMOST KILLED ME.
I may be dramatic, at times, I am aware of this, but my reactions were warranted.
I have since taken care of the car issues, as well as the phone issue, but you know the saying, "Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong?"
That's my life motto, and not by choice.
