How NOT to Start Your Summer Vacation.

With that said, it's obviously summer vacation for me. Not officially, I still have one test to take, but otherwise I'm completely done.

So how do I start my first day off from classes? My car magically breaks.

Today was so shitty that I can't help but laugh about it now. I didn't sleep at all last night because my schedule this week was: sleep in; wake up at 6:30am; sleep in; wake up at 6:30am. My internal clock is so confused, and though I went to bed normally last night, I didn't sleep at all, literally. I'm not exaggerating this, no sleep was had for Angela. Then when it's unfortunately time to wake up, I feel like absolute shit. I have a headache, my eye socket hurts, my insides feel icky, I feel nauseous because of the headache, and I'm dehydrated. I cannot fix the dehydration because even WATER made me want to throw up.

Part One of Angela's-Shit-Fest-Day:

I only woke up early and went to school so I could study and hang out with the boyfriend, but since I felt like shit I couldn't concentrate and I wanted the sun to turn off. So I stayed in my car trying to relax my eyes while Mike went off to take his final. When I felt better, I sat up and decided to check my messages on my piece of crap Samsung Galaxy S2, and when I touched the icon for Draw Something ever so lovingly, fucker turns off on me. "Goodbye!" No, no goodbye, you turn yourself right back on!

This phone is a whole other post, one day, it is literally THEE shittiest phone ever, I warn you do not get this phone it is NOT WORTH IT. I'm so happy I got this thing for free (due to a special from being a T-Mobile member so long, and no it's not T-Mobile, I've never had problems until this phone!)

After it restarted itself, I was too angry to play with it again, so I told it, "fuck you!" and debated if I should start studying. I decided no, since it's been an hour and a half and Mike should be out soon. Two seconds later, I get a text that he was. Woohoo!

Part Two of Angela's-Shit-Fest-Day:

So now I feel much better and I'm happier and everyone's happy, and we get back in my car to go to hang out at the store and get some brunch. This, THIS MOMENT HERE is when it all started. Actually it was with my phone, but that was nothing new. We turn on my lovely 2008 Hyundai Elantra (21k miles on it) and it just vibrates like a full back massage. And not the nice ones, the ones where it feels like they're shoving rocks into your back. Of course I started freaking out because WTF IS WRONG WITH MY CAR?! Mike says, "it's probably just warming up..." but it wasn't. After driving it a few feet, it just kept vibrating angrily at us whenever we were idle. We decided to take it to the shop, conveniently down the street from school.

Part Three of Angela's-Shit-Fest-Day:

We arrive at the dealership and vibrate our way up to the service station, me nearly in tears because WTF IS WRONG WITH MY CAR?! And as soon as we get out of the damned thing, a service man in blue comes out and says, "we don't service Hyundai's." I'm like, bitch I bought this from you! THIS IS YOUR PROBLEM NOW! But no, no it's not. So the man in blue tells us, "we just sell them, we don't service them. We do Cadillac and GM." It makes sense since it's a Cadillac and GM dealership, but FUCK YOU. "There's a Hyundai dealership on Van Nuys (aka: across the country), I can call them up for you." Fine, you go do that you blueberry. He calls, and they're like, "yeah come on down!" and everything was set, and we go on our way with our massage-mobile, me freaking out the whole way there.

Part Four of Angela's-Shit-Fest-Day:

NOW, we arrive at the Hyundai dealer, pull up into their service port, and one of the service men come out and ask wtf we're doing there and the formalities. We tell them everything in Part three: car's being fucktarded and my dealer called your dealer and made a deal to see my fucktarded car. They then tell me, "we never got a call, do you have an appointment?" ....YES. WE DID. So after some more freaking out we call up my dealer, and we're like, "yo, you fucked shit up." and she's like "who did you speak with?" "I don't remember his name but it's the man in the service station in the blue shirt." "Hmm, hold on please." Cue shitty broken music player. "Hello, do you remember anything from his name?" Mike tells me his last name started with an L. "His last name started with an L." "We don't have anyone with the last name beginning with L."

So apparently, a nonexistent man looked at my car and told me it things are all messed up. Great, I'm crazy!

Part Five of Angela's-Shit-Fest-Day:

Long story short here, there was a lot of hassle and a lot of me crying and calling people idiots (not to their face, I'm too nice to do that :D). They even told us to drive all the way the hell back to where I just came from because they're "booked." Well, maybe if your cars didn't break after 21k miles, you wouldn't be "booked." Anyway, they're trying to find a shuttle to take us back a measly five miles, and after 30 minutes of waiting, along with Mike eating every cookie they have to offer, and another 30 for me to get my ass into class (which conveniently starts an hour earlier than usual), I tell them to forget it and I call my mom to pick us up, and I call my mom. But wait! Even the simple task of "call mom" was too hard for my shitfuckphone, and it turned its ass off again. Eventually she came over, and we shove ourselves into her two seater truck and drive back.

Finally, I end up at class, an hour late, but thankfully my teacher was out of the room so I'm not sure if he noticed I just arrived or not. Since today was technically our "final" day, which is why we had to meet an hour earlier than usual, we were supposed to get out at 2:30. SUPPOSED TO. But nooooooooooooo, since we decided to just review for the MET (math exit exam) he says, "you can go when you're done with the packet." So I tell mom, "nevermind, I don't know when I'll be out, just park in the shade." She apparently didn't receive this until I texted her when I was out of class, so I waited until she drove over.


I told grandma what happened, and I expected her to call up the armed guards and the President or whoever she could get to try and return the car, since that wouldn't be the first time. But instead we just laughed about it, and she said I did the right thing.

Okay, okay, I MIGHT not have told her that the whole car was vibrating, as well as the engine, and I MIGHT have just told her that the check engine light was on...but can you blame me?!

The end.