Diversion to avoid packing.

Older Brother's been in town for a weekend, and we've already gotten into three arguments.
At least there haven't been any punches thrown this time.
I love my siblings, I do... but the fighting... I don't know what the hell.
I guess that's how we show our love for one another... since we don't like hugs (Me: I love you, Brother ::sucker punch to the shoulder blades:: Brother: I love you sister ::kick in the ass::).

I was supposed to be at a Quinceañera right now... but... I'm not in the mood to see a bunch of 13-16 year old girls shaking their ass to Daddy Yankee as their parents watch in horror.

Instead, I'm at home packing... and kind of, sort of, looking forward to this trip. I found out my ex-best friend isn't going after all (good thing... because shit gets awkward when she has to resort to me when no one else in town wants to hang out with her) and that just made my mood shift. I'm pretty damn stoked now.

Holler! No one's gonna be pressuring me to drive out to the next town to go get drunk/high under the moonlight!<-- what a way to ruin shit. I'm over there enjoying a full moon/bonfire in the middle of nowhere (I lie, it's this cool place where our ancestors used to go to make cheese. They're these cool rock formations of... I don't know what kind of rock) and then some dumb shit has to stumble near the fire... with the great idea of just dumping as much weed as possible to get everyone high. Then there will be some asshole who tries to get me to get drunk/high because they think it'd be funny to see what kind of drunk/high girl I'd be. They don't understand that in a couple of minutes it won't be so funny to see an infuriated/annoyed AnoMALIE.

I still have some shopping to do.
I procrastinate to the last second... when I'll remember something like "Fuck! How the hell am I gonna do my hair without a straightening iron?! Let's go back!" as we're at Hoover Dam (I once remembered about a curling iron when we were already in Phoenix and I cried all the way to Mexico about my curling iron. I had Dad send it to me via his brother... but the three weeks I had to wait were the most miserable three weeks of my life. I've also never used so much gel in my life. Never again, dude, never again. I'm pretty low maintenance... but life without a straightening iron? Give me death).

But alas... all the stress has gotten me.
Estoy agüitada? You bet your ass!
Por qué?
A el buen entendedor, pocas palabras.