This is what happened. On the Tuesday before Halloween, very early in the morning, T-Money and Mark and Jessie and I leave for Sacramento. I drove until we got to Nevada, and then everybody took turns through that desert hell until we reached beautiful California and I drove us home. Along this point of the journey, the only thing to note was that I drank two coffees and I was getting way the heck pissed off at mark and Jessie who were being retarded in the back seat. I'm pretty sure that I, in my exhausted and irrational state, threatened Mark's life if he ever kicked my seat again and I'm told I even busted out the old "Knock it off or I'm going to turn this car around!" novelty. When it was finally my turn to sleep I menacingly told them "the sun is not even up so shut up and sleep. I don't wanna hear any talking or laughing or coughing or anything... I just wanna be able to listen to my music!"
Yes, we listened to Pearl Jam's first three albums for the first 5 hours of the trip.
I also stole my blanket from them stating that it was, indeed, "My blanket!" and I nearly hit Mark in the head with a swinging arm when I woke up.
Here's something cool: If you are driving and people are annoying the ever-loving crap out of you by talking and carrying on about stupid nonsense, just gradually increase the stereo until it overpowers them.
Anyways, we arrived in Sacramento safe and sound and I was able to surprise my amazing/awesome/adorable sister Alexa on her twelfth birthday. This is a big deal because I haven't been home for a birthday of hers since she was seven. I had a great time with my family and it was good to see old friends, but more on all of that later. The moral of this post is...
On the drive home from California, just as we passed Auburn we came around a curve and a deer was standing in the middle of the left lane (which I was driving in). Taylor and Mark in the back-seat had already been woken up repeatedly by the remarkably haunting sounds of the Mars Volta pumping through my speakers, but the swerving and ridiculous race-car mechanics resulting from that idiot deer was beyond any fear or discomfort that had previously gripped them. They awoke to me, spinning the wheel to the right then to the left then back to the right like mad, all the while the car fishtailing and revolving in harmony with my frantic handiwork.
Well, we survived and everyone was okay. I wasn't shaken up very much at all, in fact I was moderately pleased with the new respect given me of everyone in the car for maneuvering the car as I did. I drove all the way to Battle Mountain before getting tired and handing the wheel over to Mark.
It just so happens that Mark hits a deer! The second deer of the journey! It jumps right out into the lane in front of my car. Mark plows through that thing like an NFL linebacker and the deer flies 6 feet into the air. It's obliterated. Unfortunately, it takes my car down with it.
As I type this I am recovering from the painful ordeal of getting my car towed, filling out the police report, stating an insurance claim, and waiting for someone from Salt Lake to come out to Wendover to pick us up, as well as the long journey by mercy-ride back to BYU.
I have an incredibly crippling fear of deer now and I anticipate them being all along our major roadways, just waiting to destroy our cars. I hate them with all I can muster.