Mexico catch up

Ok, so I've slept, taken a few showers, threaded my eyebrows (yeyyyy!! I didn't touch them at all the whole time in Mexico. I was a mess by the time it was time to come back home), picked up my bridesmaid dress (ugliest piece of shit ever. The color closely resembles rust. Best of all, the bastard dress is too big... extremely ill-fitting. Fuck my tits, man!!... wait, NO! Let me be less vulgar: Curse these breasts of mine! Since the stupid dresses are pre-made, I didn't fit into the stereotypical shape made for my size, 'cause my tits were too big. So, they ordered one size larger, and I can totally wriggle out of it now, since it's a tube top. Really sexy... fucking awesome... I love it... shit. Ok, I'll quit ranting), and even dealt with Mirage's Lost and Found security for a buddy.

I'll now proceed to quickly, and somewhat concisely, summarize my vacation. Let's make an outline!

Things that went down in Mexico:
- Fuck riding the bus!!
It took us 36.5 hours to reach our destination. There were FOUR drivers, and all 4 were pigs... they were messy as fuck, always eating, AND dirty fuckers who would flirt like nobody's business. I was unlucky enough to be sitting in the front seats... so... I was first in the line of fire... so gross.
My ankles were swollen like never before... since I never swell... at least, I never did before.  Goddamn, I'm getting old!!! :(
Our trip back, while only 30 hours long, was still uncomfortable... since this time around the 2 bus drivers were going a lot heavier on the flirting thing. I was, once again, unlucky enough to be sitting in the very front. I was wearing a black baseball cap, my hair in a braid, no makeup... with a bandaged wrist... and the two dudes still wouldn't shut the fuck up. I was so uncomfortable, I couldn't even sleep. I had to act like the movies "Terminator 3: Salvation" and "Mission Impossible 3" were the most interesting films ever created to keep them from trying to speak to me... I even acted like I couldn't speak Spanish for a while.

- Once again: fuck riding the bus!!
On a scarier note, on our way TO Mexico, since I was sitting in the very front, I saw two freaky things:
Once in Juarez, it was like 3 AM, totally desolate, and suddenly, to our right, a truck full of 7 "La Línea" members drove by. Me, being a dumbshit, made eye-contact with one of them... "Look at this loser" type eye-contact... then the bus driver pointed out the fact that it was a truck full of the gunmen... and pointed out the AKs in each guy's hand. I nearly puked my heart into my hand... I closed my eyes and began to pray... until their truck finally sped out of sight.
Scary Moment 2 occurred when we were between Chihuahua and Parral, a stretch of road that's pretty straight, but desolate. On one of the curves... the 3 "drivers" NOT driving looked at each other. I looked to the right and saw what had caught their eye: a dead body. It was a man, in a pool of his own blood... clearly not murdered by a car, but by gunshots to the face.
The bus drivers then proceeded to add him to the tally of murdered people they've seen on the side of the road during their trips. He was number 7 for the month.
Scary shit. Subject matter I won't joke about.

- Happier thoughts! Second night in town, boys were outside our house and they serenaded us.
They literally sang us five songs in total (well, five different songs, since they repeated two of them... because I guess the ringleader was feelin' 'em):
"Un Indio Quiere Llorar"
"Arboles de la Barranca"
"Tu Solo Tu"
"Volver" (Vicente Fernandez's version)
"Aca Entre Nos"
It was quite sweet... especially since they were really trying. My favorite part was listening to the feeling they were adding to it... listening to the distinct singing voices. It was cute... but clearly meant for my sister, since the lead singer was her... I guess he's now officially her ex 'cause some shit went down last week between them that I'm pretty sure my sis isn't going to allow to slip by.
It was greatly appreciated, since we spend most of our nights worried about soldiers breaking into our house and murdering us all... them or Zetas, same shit.

- Old ladies were bugging the shit out of me. 
"When are you getting married?" and "When are you having kids?" were questions that made me cringe... not to mention they made me violent, but I'd hear the question each and every day.

- I hung out with real life felons! 
There were two of them, actually, who are now living in Hometown because the US deported them for (what else) drug trafficking. I, however, really got along with one of them because he was my brother's childhood friend who had a crush on me when we were little, so he has always been very sweet to me (not like other friends of my brother... who, in the past, totally don't mind being vulgar when it comes to their... "feelings" towards me). He told us shit that goes down in federal prison, the shit he encountered while trafficking, the number of years each drug gets you, etc. It was quite interesting and educative.

- I was knocked the fuck out by parasites YET AGAIN. 
Each time food entered my system, regardless of what it may have been, I could feel the bastard Giardia throwing a rave in my "abandoned warehouse" of a gut... new DJ making an appearance each time I tried eating something. Not fun.

- I was sunburned, AGAIN. 
I'm such a dumbass... I'm just asking for cancer. I seriously underestimated the sun's strength when I walked to and from the cemetery in a tank top. An hour under the sun, and I was a lobster. Much to my dismay, it appears I am indeed a white girl. Bummer.

- I re-injured my right wrist.
I proceeded to visit the famous little masseuse lady who supposedly has magical hands. My right shoulder was slightly dislocated, so I welcomed the massage. She had her way with me... making me scream in pain, snapping my bones into place... then it just started feeling good... and I turned to mush. She then bandaged me up and told me not to mess with water for the next 24 hours. I obeyed... why? Native Americans lived healthy lives (up until the nasty Spaniards came along with their flu and syphilis), they didn't have all the knowledge we have now back in the day, yet they made it out ok... not counting what happened when they met the Europeans.
The masseuse lady is Native American, she tells me "No water" and you better believe I won't even piss, if that's what it takes for my wrist to get better. Med-school, Sh-med school... I'll listen to the little indian lady, thank you very much.

- I'm a young boy magnet. 
"Illegally young" boy magnet... NOT to be confused with "this can be considered pedophilia" young, though! There were these 14 and 15 year old boys who wouldn't leave me the fuck alone! One in particular would go out of his way to sit really close to me, sometimes ON me, he'd look down my shirt the entire time, and he'd kiss my cheek at all fucking times... like... KISS kiss... not the usual air kiss. It was so awkward... especially since he was about 5'5" and so scrawny!
I ask, once more: WHY, GOD, WHY? Why weren't 15 year old boys interested in me when I was 15? (Oh yeah, that's right, I was a B-cup at 15)

Oh man, this is getting far too long... I'll leave it at this for now. I got tired and sleepy writing it up.