Firsts

I started off the year by doing something I've never done.
Nice, right?
Here's some back story as to why I've never done it:

Time and time again I've mentioned how I'm a Mexican... how my mom's strict as all hell... and how I'm deathly afraid of upsetting Mom, because she has a wicked backhand.

Well... growing up, there were plenty of things we weren't allowed to do because they were either:
1) Going to conflict with our religion.
2) Going to get evil stares from the Mexicans of Parentals' hometown.
3) Going to become gossip fodder for the Mexicans of Parentals' hometown.
or
4) It was going to get us raped/killed.

-We couldn't go to slumber parties... because "I don't know those people... what if the Dad's a drunken idiot who likes to rape little children?!"
-We couldn't go to a classmate's home to work on group projects because "I don't know those people! What if the Dad's a serial killer and he rapes you, kills you, then drops your dead carcass in the desert so no one will ever find you?!"
-We weren't allowed to dress ourselves until we were 12-13 (old enough to rebel) because "I don't want people from Hometown to see you like that and think I'm an irresponsible mother!"
- We weren't allowed to celebrate Halloween because "That's the devil's holiday!"

And so on.

One of the rules that really irritated me, however (because really, I never really cared to go to any stranger's home to do homework since I'm anti-social, and I could give a shit about bonding with the girls at a slumber party because we'd bond over superficial, idiotic shit like "Oh my God! I wish I were born in the 60's! Look at John Travolta in Grease!! Hottie!!"), that rule was:
-You may paint your nails any color... ANY color... just not BLACK.

I confronted Mom over this plenty of times... for numerous years.
When I finally reached the ripe old age of 18, I thought "I'm just going to go to the store and buy myself some black nailpolish, damn it!"
Somehow, I'd forget... for four years.
I kept forgetting until two days ago, when Little Sister brought home some black nailpolish.

Now, I'm sick.
Yesterday, I spent most of my day dragging my ass from my sister's room, to the living room, and back.
I've had a horrible runny nose, my throat has me sounding like a bullfrog, and my damn right eye tears up every twenty minutes... to the point where I remind myself of a street mutt who always has that fucked up eye (you know what I'm talking about? That one dog that always has that smaller eye that looks diseased, so all the other street dogs fear him. Like that).
I can't go to the gym because my head starts pounding with loud noises or when I make too much of an effort.

So I sat at home... and painted my nails black for the first time ever.
I did a shit job... but they're all black.

That one goes to all the people who say "black nails were so two years ago." Suck it, bastards... I do what I want, as badly as I want.

I'm such a rebel.

In other news:
I found out yesterday that there will be 6 weddings this summer.
6!
They're all chicks from Hometown and two of them are my age.
The other four are the biggest (let's not forget oldest) bitches ever, who are some of the most bitter females I've met in my life... so I hope getting married cheers their life a bit.
I'm usually not this ecstatic about weddings... especially when two of the brides are my age, but the fact that the four other chicks are getting married has me in a frenzy.
I just want to be in Mexico to see it all with my very own eyes.

I've never been that up close and personal to witchcraft before!