Happy Birthday

It’s been three days.

A very looooooooong three days.

We’ve been camping in a small, Victorian mining town called Silverton, about an hour north of Durango where my grandparents live. Although it was overall a decent trip, my cousins made the trip hardly bearable. I really don’t like my cousins when they’re all together. They like a big group of the kind of people I really hate to be around—drinking, partying, cursing like there’s no tomorrow. It’s horrible.

And they make fun of me. They would call me gullible. I would call me trusting. I have faith that my family isn’t making terrible fun of me and isn’t lying to me. And when the tables are turned and it’s them who believe the sarcasm, no one can say shit about it.

Excuse me.

All but one is underage and two of them, Tanya and CJ drink like there’s no tomorrow. Yesterday was the 4th of July (Happy Independence Day! Happy Birthday, beautiful America) and Tanya started sippin’ some bud light by noon. By the end of the day, I swear she had over twenty cans of beer. Plus! She and CJ (who is underage) played beer pong twice in 24 hours—to the major partiers, that may not seem like a lot but I don’t know the culture and the culture is effing stupid.

Obviously, anyone can tell I’m angry about the situation. At one point, the cousins were all going to go shooting and jeeping in Jeff‘s (the oldest cousin, I think) truck. At first, I didn’t want to go and two other cousins didn’t want to go either… After about ten minutes, we were bored out of our minds and Grandpa kicked us out of the RV. We were given another chance to make a different decision because the others came back because they forgot something. The three of us went with them—they ended up going back to the store again and at that point, I was already getting really annoyed with the language and the attitude of the cousins around me.

Tanya mocked my father and me after he made it clear he did not approve of drinking and shooting. Tanya—oh my Lord, I hope she doesn’t die of a drinking problem—insisted on taking alcohol with them on the trip. She also insisted that she would be fine shooting even though she’d already been drinking long before that hour anyway! My grandpa was no help at the time of the conversation—my dad argued sobriety and my grandpa encouraged drinking and shooting. I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t care if our driver drank some.

Goodness—it was horrible. I asked Tanya if she brought any and, unknown to me, she sarcastically replied, “Yeah, we bought a couple bottles of hard vodka and we’re gonna take shots before we shoot.” Surprise, shock, and anger flooded my body and it was clear in my voice, “Are you serious?” Everyone laughed at me and Tanya said, “No…” and a small smirk fell out of her dirty mouth.

I turned to my brothers, who weren’t laughing, and said, “I might leave.” They had sad eyes when I said that, but I was damn determined not to be brought down by my immature family’s lack of compassion and lack of common sense. After two more minutes of f-bombs and teasing and childish, annoying gestures, I got up and got out of the truck. I told Jeff I was leaving because I felt sick—he and Tanya are the same age and he is many years ahead of her in maturity. He understood and made sure I was okay. I made the ten minute walk back to our campsite with my head held high. Erin and Tanya yelled to me and asked why I was leaving—I laughed to myself, thinking, “Are you really that stupid?” I gave them the same lie I told Jeff and kept walking, feeling totally fine.

After I talked to my dad about all my frustrations and anger about the whole situation, he told me that, the way he saw it, I was presented with an opportunity to say no and walk away from a bad situation. And when I think about it, the second chance to go with my cousins shooting was God giving me the chance to say no. It was easy.

Tanya says she loves me so much and she’s so proud of me and then she becomes a huge bitch when she’s around other people. I hate it. I’d rather not be around her.

Turns out I had tons more fun back at the campsite with the friends there. We watched four trains pull into Silverton and even witnessed the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m not going to share it because it would only be funny if you were there. I don’t want to waste space or time.

Seeing the patriotism of the people and all the things going on in town yesterday made me so proud of my country. I am so thankful for all the America has done for me. I wasn’t there when the founding fathers risked everything for all future generations of independent thinkers and strong-minded individuals. It’s because of the men and women that fight for us then and now that I am allowed to even be saying all that I have in the last ten seconds. It’s because of them that I can love my God without persecution and I can be what I want without discrimination.

Happy Birthday, Beautiful America.

On a bit of a darker note—my grandpa has been coughing, my grandma says all week. He’s also had a shortness of breath and she’s worried. Yesterday, after she helped him lay down for a nap, she came outside with a big, alcoholic drink with tears in her eyes and the only thing I really remember her saying was, “I’m not ready.” I thought about those commercials from the American Cancer Society with everyone singing “Happy Birthday” and I can only hope that my grandpa will see that next June.

Happy Birthday, Grandpa.

This is going to be a sad year, guys.