We're having a campout tonight, me and my husband. An alternate title for the entry could also be called the very very very very very very long weekend. Srsly, it was bad.

It starts Friday morning, rising at 8am. I generally get up around noon, so that in itself was a feat. Got all our stuff packed and left the house. We drove an our north to pick up my hubby's best friend, and then back south, down the 101 freeway towards Santa Barbara. Drove about 5 hours, and dropped off the said friend (Ironhyde, as he goes by) at a hotel so he could meet a girl with whom he had been conversing with online. We drove the last hour and a half to hubby's grandmother's.

We arrived at her house, and had dinner and disappeared for the night. We both wanted to unwind, so we excused ourself from her company, but of course she came to our normal room and kept yammering. Finally got her to go away, and we bunked down for the night. Next day I awoke at the crack of noon, and my husband was already in a mood from helping his grandmother. Now, I'm all for respecting my elders, but they have to deserve it. Honestly, this woman is just awful. She pulls guilt trips on everyone she can, which alienates them to the point that they don't want to be around her. She had asked my husband to clean out the two garden sheds (one of which he had previously cleaned, and she had messed up again). Inside the shed was a lot of chemicals that used to be legal household cleaning products. Now they're considered hazardous waste. Hubby took some down to be dumped, which got oil all over the back of our pickup. Great.

That night we left to go further south and see my brother. I adore my brother. We had a great time. Apparently he and I have a sibling language that only he and I are in on. I never noticed it until it was pointed out to me. He's matured a lot, and I'm super proud of him. Anyways, back to grandma's house to conk out.

By the time we got back, we found the driveway blocked with a passive aggressive note about how the truck was leaking oil, and she didn't want it in the driveway. It wasn't. It was the oil that had spilled earlier in the day. With much annoyance we trekked off to bed.

This morning I got up around 9. It took us four hours to extricate ourselves from his grandmother. She's a lonely hoarder, and every time we leave, she cries. ARGH. Anyways, we finally get out on the road, pick up Ironhide (who had a fantastic weekend), slog through 6 hours of driving and two of San Francisco traffic, drop him off at home, an hour north of us, and finally head towards our house. YAY! I get to sleep in my own bed!

Except I don't. We have two cats, and one of them was badly mistreated before we got him, so he has some inappropriate urination issues, and has this dominance thing going on with hubby because he's absolutely in love with me. Apparently our bedroom door was left open, so we come home to pee on my husband's side. :okiedokielokie:

So we bust out the air mattress for the third night in a row, and we're in the front entryway, camped out in our own house while letting the bed dry. Honestly, I don't even care if anyone reads this or not, it felt good to just vent.