I almost moved back to Texas last night.

So, I've mentioned to some of you: ninety percent of the time I love it here. The remainder, I [adult word] hate Hawaii. It might only be, like, five percent of the time, but the extremosity of the hate that I feel when I feel it is such that I am forced to bastardize words and write convoluted sentences to express it.

Last night was a prime example. Today is F----It-Friday at work, and I am in charge this month. I decided to make it Tex-Mex themed--margaritas, guacamole, and queso (con carne and vegetarian). Do you know how many grocery stores I had to go to before I found Velveeta? Three. After practically running through Don Quijote at 7:50--nothing stays open past 8, which is also awesome--I finally found it. They had maybe eight boxes. Not like they were out, I mean, that's how much they keep stocked. When I checked out, the girl at the register was like, is this stuff any good?

I mean, seriously. This is freaking America. Baseball, apple pie, VELVEETA. Right? Right?!

Even after three different stores, I was unable to find Jimmy Dean Sausage. For real. The closest I came was some brand of "breakfast links," so I just cut off the casings and broke them up. I was livid. It's the principle of the matter.

Just to get it out of my system:
People suck at driving.
Every road is under construction all the time.
People stand at the cross walk and press the button over and over and over and over and over and over until it changes, as if it won't otherwise or that they are somehow making it change faster.
People really suck at driving.
There is nowhere to park anywhere ever.
People also suck at walking.

--this concludes my ranting and use of absolutes, for now--