Sunday, October 16, 2011

I think I'm back

I have not had a trip THAT fun in... fucking ages.
It was so fun and exhausting, it took me this freakin' long to update. I just wanted to sit back and savor it all... mentally relive it at least three times before I went ahead and wrote about it.

1. There was no fighting.
Don't get me wrong, potential for massive sibling fights was there, we just never acted upon it... there just wasn't time to waste like that.
I think knowing there was such a tight time constraint was what made us enjoy the moment in the fashion we did. It was like 2008's express London Tour.
There were tiny scuffles like when D said I had my dad's body type... which had she said that any other time I probably would have exploded on her (to make this shit clear, if anyone has my dad's family's body type, it's Rafa. We all find it offensive to be compared to that body type because they have no muscle tonality, chicken legs, inverted ass, no neck, and a big head. It's VERY noticeable when someone has THAT body type. It's fucking ugly. They have beautiful hands, but the rest of the body is like fucking Frankenstein's creation. Sorry, Dad). But I just rolled my eyes and continued doing what I was doing.

2. I did NOT give a fuck about the way I looked.
Ok, maybe I did... a little... hence why there are no photos of me this time around. I had been planning to take a few with my siblings, since we're not going to be together like that in a long, long time... but see... I forgot to pack a blowdryer... and more importantly, I forgot to pack a brush/comb.
That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I forgot to take the two fucking basic tools to groom my hair (I purposely didn't pack a razor, because I wasn't about to check in luggage, and the duration of the trip didn't merit shaving).
Well, just use your brother's comb, your hair's pretty short anyway.
Not that easy, my friend. My brother's bald, he hasn't owned a comb in ten years--since he joined the army.
I lucked out for the most part because it was raining the entire time I was in DC (except on my final day, which turned out to be a motherfucking gloriously sunny Autum day), so all I had to do was rock a hat.
There WAS the night where we went to my brother's friend's Mexican Fiesta. That one was a little rough.

3. My brother's friends are awesome.
It was Thursday night, D's birthday, and some of Rafa's Princeton buddies were throwing a fiesta. The people are all going to be stationed in Mexico, hence the Fiesta theme.
I don't know about you, but I find it incredibly intimidating to be in the presence of such smart humans. I know I say I love the company, and that I'm extremely attracted to impossibly brilliant men... but goddamn, this shit is HARD to treat with normalcy... I'm a fucking UNLV graduate... that ain't got shit on these Princeton MPAs. I'm a fucking savage in comparison to them.

So of course I worried: there I'd be, stupid AND disheveled like the true fucking barbarian I am... only disgracing my poor brother.
How'd I fix the hair problem? I showered, stood in front of my brother's fan, nearly caught pneumonia, stuck some bobby pins in my hair... and wore a SUPER lowcut shirt.
Yo, you can't judge me if I'm shoving my cleavage down your throat, right? I get pointers for bringing the tits to the party... right?
My excuse was Latinas are super sensual... this is TAME compared to the skimpy shit they wear. For one, I'm wearing PANTS to this shindig... WITH TOMS... how illegitimate is that for a Mexican? TOMS are hardcore caucasian shoes. So... I can be slutty up top for the boys, but keep it totally classy below the belt for the sweet caucasian girls.
Anyway, it worked.
The girls are hilarious and sweet... only SOMETIMES making jokes that I wouldn't find funny (at one point of the night, one of the girls busted out the biographies of all the MPA students and read them out loud. I'd laugh sometimes, but most of the time, when relating to the subjects that would make them roar with laughter, I'd sit quietly with a shy "why the hell do you find that funny?" smile on my face).
The guys... oh the guys.
Mmmm... the guys.
You'd never guess it, but it appears Poli Sci buffs also give really, really good hugs. Oh... the guys... :)

4. I pigged the fuck out from Wednesday until yesterday.
I had cupcakes Thursday AND yesterday.
Thai food on Thursday.
I ate a hotdog yesterday... and about 10 cookies... and cheese dip.
A Reese's Klondike Bar on Friday.
AND Fried chicken with a hazelnut waffle Friday night... and some peach cobbler... and fried corn... and TWO cornbread muffins with PEACH BUTTER.

Best fucking junk I've had in the last SIX MONTHS... and I didn't gain a single fucking pound.
Worth it? HELL YES. HELL FUCKING YES!

5. "Hotlanta" is officially on my "must hit" list.
In the couple of hours I had to run around the city, I fucking fell in love with Atlanta.
Best couple of hours I've spent in a while.
I now feel obligated to give it its proper visit sometime in the near future.
The dudes there were pretty hot... which I found out of character for me... because I don't usually check out hip-hop-loving dudes.
Who knows... maybe I've officially moved on to my black phase.

I'd like to write more... perhaps elaborate, but I'm tired.
Just thought I'd update, now that I've found time.

I am such a happy girl... a happy, iphone 4S-owning girl...
Mmmmm.

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