I literally didn't do anything today except watch My Big Redneck Wedding. Which was hilarious and terrifying at the same time, considering that one bride put horse manure in water balloons and threw them at people during a wedding party game. Yeah. So instead what I am going to do is grace you with a story from my childhood. Now, my family is a fairly normal one with the exception of my Sister. She is mother fucking insane. I can name at least 9 Christmases that I remember her ruining, and my parents can name many more. (That's only Christmas, btw. My birthdays and other holidays have their own numbers.)

I'll share just a short one with you, this is a little tale called "Albuquerque"

My Aunt lives in Albuquerque, New Mexico. My 7th grade year everyone on my dad's side decided it would be a swell idea to go down to Albuquerque for Christmas. Yaaaay. I feel like I need to mention now that my sister is an Anti-Social (Not personality, the mental disorder) Bi-Polar, Manic Depressive, Multiple Personality (Not DID, it's a mood disorder similar to Bi-Polar) drug addict, who loves prescription medication. (Not to say she hasn't done literally every other drug in the book.)

So, we all flew down to Albuquerque. I have tried my best to repress most of that vacation because it sucked. A lot. But I'm trying to recall the most vital Sister moments. Mostly she wasn't around for the things we did because getting high off prescriptions isn't like other drugs, you don't hallucinate and freak out. Mostly you just feel really good and go to sleep. And that is what Sister did. Sleep, sleep, sleep. She slept all the time. You have to remember that I was in 7th grade and 12 during all this, so my parents tried to keep me occupied by buying me things and letting me watch TV and play on my other sisters laptop.

There were many arguments with my sister involved, namely because she stole money from my grandmothers purse while "napping" upstairs. My grandmother is a bitter and old hag, who has never (and will never) forget this.

The most vivid memory I have of the horrifying Albuquerque trip is of Christmas Eve. My Grandfather was a pastor, so everyone on my dad's side grew up as a church family. My grandmother was the Pastor's Wife who cooked and cleaned and was happy, and my dad and aunts were the happy and well behaved children. What I'm trying to say is, you're basically expected to go to church. Christmas Eve is a definite must.

I am normally very impatient at church services and my family (Dad, Mom and I) never really went to them. I always enjoyed Christmas Eve though because they gave me candles to play with. So while I was occupied with the candle I failed to notice that my mom had not come in with Sister (who threw a fit about coming). Until, that is, my dad left the church. He was gone for a long time in which Eric (my super-cool cousin-in-law) tried to distract me by having a candle duel. Dad came back after a long while, and when the service was over, instead of going back to the house for delicious snacks I had to go sit in the emergency room while Sister threw a fit at the doctor until she got the meds she wanted. My parents were pissed, and I was hungry.

It was a horrible Christmas eve.

It was a horrible Christmas (Thanks, Grandma, for that talking watch and mini hairbrush). But that's nothing compared to the time when she scheduled a surgery on my birthday and my parents totally forgot about me and gave me my presents still in the Wal-Mart shopping bags. . .

Oh, but that's another story.