June 24, 2017:
We stopped short of Santa Margarita on Highway 58 so she could pee behind a bush. Somehow that summed the whole thing up.
There's a photo of me on a bench staring at my shoes. Her friend asked, "What is he so deep in thought over?" It was whether to cut this long-anticipated trip short, granted its disastrous failure. We did. She didn't care. She does not give thought to experience outside her own.
At a rest stop somewhere I exploded, angrily labeling her "the most selfish person I've ever met". That stung: she was hurt. She was subdued and thoughtful for a while.
It's true. She is the most selfish person I've ever met. Partly it's the voice of her addiction. Largely it's the certainty of radical entitlement shared by her entire family, the Trailer Trash Kardashians.