1995?!

Uh... Guys... Totally nix the part where I said Homeboy didn't like me.

... He does. A lot.

Guess why...

Take a WILD GUESS why this pretty boy likes me and stalks me...

BECAUSE... He's FUCKING EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD!!

What. The. FUCK?!

What the fuck?!

I don't know what to say... At all... I've been like this for the last five hours or so.

When he dropped the bomb of being born March 3rd, 1995... I froze, and initially though "Oh shit! I'm two days older than him! Nice!"

Then he kept talking... About how the groom is a decade older than him... And I froze again.

The groom is MY age.

"This homeboy just... He just... Holy fucking shit! He's FUCKING EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD!"

Homeboy got PLASTERED. Everyone at this wedding did-- drinking began at 10 in the morning.

300 BOTTLES OF TEQUILA. THREE HUNDRED! A bottle per attendee!

We walked to church-- drinking along the way.

We walked to the reception hall-- drinking along the way.

Had cocktail hour-- for THREE HOURS.

I'd notice Homeboy staring over at me all the time. Smiling. I would be lying if I said it wouldn't make me giddy.

But he never approached me (though now I know he practically wanted to know my life story from my brother. Apparently everything he talked about with Rafa revolved around me, no mention of D).

Aww.. He hates me...

The party is still going on as I type, but I have been sick as fuck with a runny nose and violent cough all day, and since the reception was in the open of an hacienda, I was cold and getting battered by the weather.

So I decided to bounce out early-- at 1... It isn't ending until 5.

Anyway, Homeboy came over to my table and very drunkenly tried apologizing to the girl next to me. (He called her old-- 40 year old. She's 26. So she was offended and he was trying to make amends)

He tried explaining the issue to me.

"Oh, I know all about it. She keeps harping on it," I said.

And this comment pissed BOTH of them. 

He proceeded to playfully cover my mouth... But in doing so, he'd wrap his arms completely around me (fucking kid knows the allure of his grasp... Damn it!). He'd also force my head up to look me right in the eyes, and place his (tequila-reeking) mouth so close to mine, I'd taste his breath.

He did this about three times, with the excuse of making me "shut up." I have no voice, folks...

He then asked me when I was leaving (fourth time asking me this), and I told him I leave Monday, but D leaves tomorrow. 

"Who cares when she leaves?! When do YOU leave?"

"Monday."

"Why?! What is so important you have to leave Monday?"

"I want to spend New Years in Vegas..."

"No! Stay here! Vegas is boring!"

And he proceeded to play his little arguing game with me... Constantly covering my mouth and overreacting to whatever I'd say.

He proceeded to tell me he was going to take me out to dance the rest of the night (?!), but just as he said that, they ushered us into a different room and I BOLTED.

... I know, I have issues.