Hero indeed!

So it's official:
I'm the only *Dos Santos* kid still in the western hemisphere... shit... still in Vegas.

I was startled awake by Mom and Bro saying "Come on, are you coming or not?" and while I don't watch porn, my initial thought of the day was:
"Isn't the porn convention going on now?"
Then I remembered, before going to bed my brother made some joke about "Now don't you go alone to that porn convention!"
At least he didn't call me a stripper this time.

Anyway, and not following through with our threat, we took my brother to the airport at 7 in the morning.
Yesterday, in the midst of our anger tantrum, Mom and I said we were just going to drop Older Brother off at the curb because he was planning on doing that to Little Sister yesterday.

You heartless bastard! She's leaving us for the first time, and you want to drop her little ass at the airport with her two 50-pound bags, heavy ass carry-on and lap top at the curb? Yeah, she worked at the airport as TSA for two years and should be comfortable with that... but that shit's over. She's a baby for crying out loud!

He wanted to drop her at the curb because he was planning on going to the gym after that... as if it were some real emergency.
Guys can be such dicks sometimes.

Anyway, since I've been having a shitty week... with a total of maybe 6 hours of sleep in the last 60 hours or so... I felt like trash when I said I'd accompany Mom to the airport.

I had no make-up on... this very stupid pimple in the middle of my chin (I'm 22! Why the fuck am I still getting pimples?! However, if I must, I'll take pimples on the chin over getting them anywhere else, to tell you the truth), I wore my hair up (whatever I could grab. I also realized my bangs make me look trashy--now I know why Cousin/Hairdresser was so reluctant to cut me some), then slipped into a Notre Dame hoodie.
And looking like that... I got hit on by my brother's ticket agent.
??
Guys... who the fuck understands them? I dress up and I'm invisible. I look like shit, and they'll try and ask me out to dinner... ?

My brother turned over at me and asked "Was he talking to you??"
"Umm... who the fuck else was wearing a Notre Dame sweater, jackass?? Those 30-something-year old British guys in suits?"
It's sad when even your own family wonders "WTF was up with that? They're hitting on you?"
Whatever. Life goes on.

Anyway, we walked with Older Brother to the D gates and said our farewells.
I wasn't choked up at all... I'm actually still excited, since I'm pretty sure I'm going to be living with his ass (making his life a living hell) when I head over to London next month (next month!! Yey!).

His last words to me were:
Now, don't you go off playing too much Guitar Hero!!

Mine to him?
You go get me as much Manchester shit as possible!!

In all reality, I wanted to say back:
You kidding *****? I'm 5-starring on Medium! I'm not about to stop now!!

I've had that game for... today marks the 3rd day... and I've had to up the difficulty level because I was actually getting bored (I passed it on Easy in a couple of hours) to the point where I kind of wanted to return the game. But then I noticed that medium is eerily similar to the fingering done on the violin (shut up, I did not mean that in a dirty way. Stupid porn convention... it has me all messed up in the head), so I fell in love (especially with AFI's "Miss Murder," no pun intended, but I fucking kill with that song. Same goes for Weezer's "My Name is Jonas." I'm working on Metallica's "One" and Eric Johnson's "Cliffs of Dover" to kick some serious unsuspecting-people ass. Haha. Not. I'm too shy to play this game in front of others, regardless of how "good" or "badass" as I might be. It's a trait only my family will witness-- whether they want to or not).

Yes... I'm a badass.
(I do get dizzy though... sometimes I wonder if eventually I'll just drop to the floor and start to seizure. But regardless, I'm going to work on that bad boy until I can do a song with my back turned to the television. I promised Older Brother I was going to do that once he gets back in May)

That damn game is what's kept me from turning into a puddle of tears on my sister's bed.
Guitar Hero totally rescued my ass.

(Oh yeah, today at 9:45 AM, I also answered a phone call from Little Sister, who said to me "I'm in Madrid. It's nice weather out here! I'm about to go out with some girls for dinner. Oh yeah... and my roommate? HE'S HOT! So fucking... mmm... hot!" Thanks kid, give me even more reason to jump off a bridge, why don't ya?)