Ug!

Guys... it's time. It's time for that fucking family reunion I talked about back in May.
The party takes place this Saturday (from 12PM until 12AM... what can we POSSIBLY do for that fucking long? Delusional fools. I'm showing up at 7:30PM, fuck that shit. Noon to midnight... get the fuck out of here!).
There's drama going on (when isn't there? We wouldn't be Mexican without some goddamn drama unfolding before the fucking party even starts) because we Vegas families are getting charged to attend the mediocre party, and the prices aren't lining up. One family is being told $150 per family, someone else is being told $100... then there's another family being told $30 a person. It's all inconsistent and suspect.
The families coming down from other parts of the country are not getting charged anything... and that's fine, because it is costing them money to make it down here for a few days. What upsets us is the fact that we Vegas families are not getting charged a flat rate. Why lean more on one family and not another, you know? Fucking shady, I tell you.

ANYWAY! This drama has made many of the members decide not to attend.
This stresses me out, because my militant mother is FORCING me to go to this shindig against my will (no one I care to chill with is attending, so if I have to choose between sitting quietly at any one spot, I choose the comfort of my fucking home. Sorry. At least I don't have to be "dolled up" to be chilling there... and I don't have to pay 30 fucking dollars to do it. I'll spend that shit on protein powder and almond/oat flour, thank you very much!).
What does my body do when stressed out (besides vomit until I lose consciousness)? I break out, like almost any other female.
Fucking hormones.

My face has been kind to me for the most part this year, since I finally decided to take care of it (took me damn long enough)... but sometimes, I get a runaway pimple that decides to ruin my face (along with my life!).
The spot will be randomly chosen by my bastard body... and it looks like this time, it decided the most gracious spot would be the tip of my nose.
Ah, yes, the memories THAT brings! It's 1998 all over again.
I felt it coming in on Friday, and I've been trying my best to fight it.
I spent the weekend and today rocking this masterpiece whenever I had the opportunity to be home:

Yet another thing I'm ecstatic about.

Reminds me of Ug from Salute Your Shorts... except my nose-mask isn't protecting me from harmful UV rays.

Keppin' it classy, baby, keepin' it classy.