Dear Diary, Life is trying me

Entry 10

Pic is last chapter's commandment photo.

Sunday, April 20,2014

Dear Oli,

Happy Easter and Weed Day. Jesus is alive again! HALLELUJAH!

I think it's kind of messed up that Weed Day is the same day as Easter this year.

What kind of idiot, does that?

Can't the Pope change the date or something?

I guess not everybody sees the world the same way as I do.

Idiots.

I was excited today, because every Easter for like the last five years, we have gone to a nice (and might I mention fancy) Italian restaurant for a super delicious brunch. There's always a hot guy at the brunch somewhere for eye candy and then there's the waffle guy for, well, waffles. His waffles are perfection. I could eat them all day every day for the rest of my life. There are pancakes and other things too. And there's also a more lunch-ey area of the buffet, but I like the waffles best.

So I got up early, and wore a pair of blue jeans and a white shirt (because Easter is one of those holidays where you just can't wear black -except for shoes and purses and stuff, of course). And I ended up being the first one ready.

Dad's normally first. I'm normally last. It kind of sad that I take longer than a woman, but I have my personal standards. I don't want to go out looking like a hobo, right?

Oh, and speaking of Dad, l'm not sure if I mentioned that he came back from his business trip yesterday morning. And of course you need to know this information since you're my boooyyyffffrrrriiieenndd, right?

So I was all excited and stuff when we went out to the car. Mom was wearing a pretty floral printed dress, Dad was wearing a pastel blue shirt, and Mikey was wearing a navy blue shirt. Obviously, he didn't get the memo that you're supposed to look bright on Easter.

Dad started driving and about ten minutes into the drive I noticed that we were not going in the right direction.

"Dad, we're going the wrong way, Il Toscano is over that way," I pointed out.

"Oh, we're not going there this year," he said matter-of-factly.

AREN'T PEOPLE SUPPOSED TO TELL ME THIS SORT OF INFORMATION? At least, so I can mentally prepare myself.

"Then where are we going?" I asked him.

"Shinju."

That's when my world collapsed.

I could see it.

All the Asian children running around, the random birthday music, the old guy that sneezes on all the food.

Ew.

Just ew.

"Why are we going there?" I asked.

"Don't give us that tone mister," Mom admonished.

"But-but we're going to Shinju."

"Yeah, we're going to Shinju. I thought it would be cool to change it up a little," Mikey piped in.

"What? You did this?" I said as I looked to him.

"Yeah, I love that place," he smiled.

OMG. Like WTF.

That place is like Chuck E Cheese, minus the games. The kids go nuts.

And, it's always crowded.

I sunk into my seat with my arms across my chest in defeat.

So, we got to Shinju, the disgusting Asian restaurant with the nasty fat noodles, and sat down at a table, which was too close to another table. The restaurant was packed.

A bunch of Asian children, Everywhere.

Mom kept trying to take photos inside the restaurant but there was always some Asian kid coming in front of us and messing our picture up.

Control your children, please.

I couldn't take it. It was absolute hell.

Did I mention it was loud in there too?

And there were at least fifteen crying babies, no joke.

And don't even get me started on the food.

It's a big buffet with nasty Asian food (the best is Panda Express, obviously) that I would never eat unless I was starving.

I was.

So I ate it.

Even though the fat guy in the horrendous tourist-y shirt sneezed on the fried rice and touched the bread with his bare hands after wiping his nose.

Manners, people. MANNERS!

I didn't get seconds like Mikey did. It was too disgusting.

I don't understand how the Shinjus stay in business. They're disgusting.

And they played no music! Well, unless you call the Chuck E Cheese-souding Happy Birthday shit as music. It started off slow, then it got all fast and dancey, then the singer started to sing in Japanese.

I wished I had a teleporter in that moment. I wanted to go somewhere far, far, away.

Everybody else seemed content though.

But really, a Japanese restaurant on Easter?

People can be really dumb.

I think I forgot to mention the smell too.

But whatever, I think you get the picture.

We were there for three fucking hours, too.

But I did nothing else really for the rest of the day. Shinju was exhausting.

Happy Easter Oli <3

XO,

G

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(A/N: This chapter is a bit longer, I hope you enjoy that. This is a true story unfortunately (although it played out a little differently), and I had to eat my Easter brunch at Shinju. It's all my sister's fault too. Trust me. It sucked.

I'm sorry I'm a day late updating, I've been out and about :P

P.S. I'm sorry if I offended any Asian people. I love Asians :P So don't feel offended. I'm gonna crack white jokes and black jokes too later :P

THANK YOU FOR READING <3)

<3,

-Ellie :D TY TY TY