Alright, these two journal entries are from our trip to Colorado. I thought they were exceptionally well written, and wanted to post them here. Just for future refrence, Omi is my Grandmother, and Opa is my Grandfather.

Enjoy.

Well, we haven't had much of a vacation since we got here in Colorado. We've been to Red Rocks, Heritage Square, a German deli, and that's pretty much it. I am here, at Omi's, listening to the adults bicker and fuss like children should. It sickens me to see my parents get so frustrated with a seventy year old woman, and loos patients with her, but I can't for the life of me think back to a moment in my life when they were so impatient with me, even when I was so stubborn. But on the contrary, I have never seen a woman so hell-bent on contradicting oneself. I swear she will say one thing, then no more than five minutes later, will say something completely opposite. To see such frustration in one family is heart-breaking. And the sad thing is, is that my parents are trying so hard to communicate with such a stubborn lady. It pains me to see such conflicts. Sometimes I wonder why we even came out here in the first place. My father, raised here, and being my birthplace, I can easily recognize the motive behind the trip, and Opa, bless his heart, puts up with Omi, even when divorced.

Our constant schedule change has left me flustered and confused. Sometimes I wonder if we'll ever go home. This trip has lasted for what seems like weeks, when in reality, it has only been days.

It all seems so surreal and mockingly contradictory. The breathtakingly beautiful mountain scenery on one hand, and a family torn apart on the other, Like an gift of bread in a basket, but then the offer-er says you have to pay for the bread. And my payment is watching my Father cry from harsh words being said, my Mother at her wits' end trying to deal with Omi, my poor sister, not knowing half of what is really going on, and me, hanging on by a thread, making sure my family is still intact.

The casual laugh is a nice change from the usual somber silence, but it never seems to last long enough to really enjoy it. It seems that only the tales of Edgar Allen Poe and Anne Rice seem to calm my nerves and keep me company. My music holds hardly any escape for me at all anymore. Writing doesn't seem to do much for me either at this point. I also have no means of a computer. That has also soured my mood.

And apparently my Aunt, being the hypochondriac she is, went to the hospital yesterday or so. The doctors ran some tests, but nothing came back physical. They said she might want to get some mental help...

My poor sister has hardly any comprehension of the magnitude of our current situation, and Omi refuses to even regard the situation we're in. She is wrapped up in Banana World, and we are slowly trying to pry her from it. My parents are caught up in a mental war with her all the wile trying to satisfy us in our vacationing needs. I'm not saying out vacation is a total waste, just not one of our best vacations. I can't say my birthday was the greatest I've had, but I don't mind putting up with every one's attitudes for the sake of my sister, and seeing my relatives. I just wish they wouldn't fight like a bunch of five year olds over the last cookie in the cookie jar.

July 19, 2007 Colorado Day 6

Well, all seems well this morning. Today we will be away from the phones (hopefully). We are going to Colorado Springs and can escape this beautiful yet monotonous scenery and hotel, if I may add. I just hope we can also escape the ominous rain clouds that have appeared to be looming over Denver at the moment.

Later...

Being cooped up in a mid-size SUV with Opa has left me feeling like I am sitting next to a French whore in a cramped room. His horridly-smelling "after shave" is, well, horridly-smelling and has left me with a monstrous headache. And when we were at the zoo, I was so glad to go into the animal houses, for I was only able to smell animal dung there, not that rank cologne. Only just now, seeing a beautifully colored crow has my spirits a tad higher, with his gorgeously onyx colored wings that reflect the blackness of a moonless sky.

The monotonous grey coloring of the sky has seemed to have followed us to the Springs. Not very hopeful weather. It is also chilling and dark, how the stormy clouds are threatening to cry. My only hope is that it stays this way.

Later...

While scaling the the crimson rocks of Garden of the Gods, the ominous rain clouds flew in and rain had hit us. It was good timing, for everything. The dry, crisp, crackling of the dry grass had everyone worrying about fire. But now that the clouds have finally delivered what they had threatened to earlier, all seems well. In the distance, the mountains are naught but a looming figure in the fog, like a stranger in the dark alley of the night.

Later...

We had ventured into a cavern at late. It was a spectacular tour. Not to mention the particularly cute tour guide. The cave walls were smooth from everybody touching them and the oils from the skin clog the porous limestone I think he said it was, and also halting the growth of further formations. It was a good forty-five minutes of exploring the caves. The hunger attacked us. We found the nearest Village Inn and satisfied our hunger.

Our drive back to Denver was breathtakingly gorgeous. Except for the houses that can be spotting for miles around. They are like blemishes on the face of a super model. It is sad how humanized society has made Mother Nature's Treasures.

Every time I think I have evaded the putrid smell of that damned cologne, it always finds it way back into my nostrils. Smelling ten times worse than before. I am afraid I will never escape the reek of that cologne as long as I am around Opa.

My poor Mother has done almost nothing today, for she was unable to walk up and down the mountain which happened to be the zoo. But I was thankful that she decided to come on the tour of the caves with us. And Opa, with his current condition, was unable to do pretty much anything that we did that involved a lot of walking.