One of my professors, an older man, watches, or watched anyway, Laguna Beach. That's wrong on some very icky levels.
Vent begins: I'm in Angola, Indiana visiting family. Wednesday was okay, Thursday was okay--both days with my dad's parents. Friday, today, was just something else. I went to see my mom's parents (well, Grandma and Grandma's second husband, but he's my Grandpa by now--they're the Harmans). We went on the big Route 127 Garage Sale, which I figured would be an all day thing, and I was fine with that. It was garage sales, which I don't care too much for, but I only get around to see family once or twice a year, and this was the only time I could see my mom's side of the family.
Well, I wanted to get back to my other grandparent's house to go to a car show with my Grandpa Baker, then maybe go on the lake with my aunt, uncle and two cousins. That didn't freaking happen, because my Grandpa and Grandma Harman wanted to stop to eat twice during the garage sale trip, then another time for ice cream, at these big fancy sit-downs. We finally got home way too late for me to do anything fun at the Bakers, but I wanted to get back anyways--and here's the worst--Grandpa Harman sat and showed me slideshows of pictures for like 2 hours!!!
He'd show me pictures of stuff around their house and yard--stuff that I'd just seen not 30 minutes ago. Gahh! I love 'em, but geez I wanted to get out of there to go see other people.