bad music, good dancing.
Well that was a good weekend. I'm pretty damn tired from making the long trip two days in a row, but it was worth it.
The party was a blast. There are few things better in this world than dancing in a mansion with your brother (who, incidentally, is as big of a dork as you are) and being as goofy as possible- the sad thing is that I was totally sober, he was two large glasses of vodka in, and I was still as retarded as he was.
There was a palm reader at the party. I must say, she was dead on. She looked at my hand for like, one second then went "you're a very emotional girl..." then later she was like "you like to know why. Why, why why why? With everything, especially in relationships. You're an information gatherer." She also said that my life purpose is "Passionate Innovator" and that means I'm an artist out of the spotlight, someone who wants their life to be their canvas, and I don't want anyone else's life to be like mine. Which is pretty dead on. She also said my sister was, and I quote, "like Madonna in Mother Theresa's clothing." I about crapped myself. It was beyond accurate.
My sister looked beautiful, and I can't believe she's really 30. She got pretty smashed, and hardly drank anything, but this was because there was NO FOOD AT THE PARTY. We were told there would be dinner, but uh, yeah, someone lied. So I had to drive the drunkies (sis, bro, and bro in law) home after the party in my sister's brand new, top of the line Acura, which I was terrfied I'd crash, because it was 2am my time and I was exhausted. Then Fes (bro in law) demanded that I take them to Del Taco and told me how to get there. Apparently, Del Taco is where all the drunks go late on Saturday nights. The line was huge. But it was hilarious with my sister about to puke in the back seat and my brother calling out his old drunken call "Maritha... Maritha, come get me. Maritha, I'm drunk," just for memory's sake. Oh, yeah, our sister's name is Marisa, and he just added the lisp in for drunkenness.
We got our food and chowed down. It was good stuff. I was way tired though. After August, their going to have to find a new Designated Driver. Hell, yes.
I looked really nice and did my makeup all spiffy and shit. But none of the pictures came out good, so, you'll just have to imagine me. My dress was beautiful and my shoes were possibly the sexiest shoes ever designed. But they hurt like hell.
All right. That's enough scatter-brained entry-ness for now.
Tomorrow is my first official day of winter break. I am so sleeping in. You have no idea. Then Tuesday, Celeste and I want to go see a psychic. And I have lots of Christmas shopping to finish up.
The party was a blast. There are few things better in this world than dancing in a mansion with your brother (who, incidentally, is as big of a dork as you are) and being as goofy as possible- the sad thing is that I was totally sober, he was two large glasses of vodka in, and I was still as retarded as he was.
There was a palm reader at the party. I must say, she was dead on. She looked at my hand for like, one second then went "you're a very emotional girl..." then later she was like "you like to know why. Why, why why why? With everything, especially in relationships. You're an information gatherer." She also said that my life purpose is "Passionate Innovator" and that means I'm an artist out of the spotlight, someone who wants their life to be their canvas, and I don't want anyone else's life to be like mine. Which is pretty dead on. She also said my sister was, and I quote, "like Madonna in Mother Theresa's clothing." I about crapped myself. It was beyond accurate.
My sister looked beautiful, and I can't believe she's really 30. She got pretty smashed, and hardly drank anything, but this was because there was NO FOOD AT THE PARTY. We were told there would be dinner, but uh, yeah, someone lied. So I had to drive the drunkies (sis, bro, and bro in law) home after the party in my sister's brand new, top of the line Acura, which I was terrfied I'd crash, because it was 2am my time and I was exhausted. Then Fes (bro in law) demanded that I take them to Del Taco and told me how to get there. Apparently, Del Taco is where all the drunks go late on Saturday nights. The line was huge. But it was hilarious with my sister about to puke in the back seat and my brother calling out his old drunken call "Maritha... Maritha, come get me. Maritha, I'm drunk," just for memory's sake. Oh, yeah, our sister's name is Marisa, and he just added the lisp in for drunkenness.
We got our food and chowed down. It was good stuff. I was way tired though. After August, their going to have to find a new Designated Driver. Hell, yes.
I looked really nice and did my makeup all spiffy and shit. But none of the pictures came out good, so, you'll just have to imagine me. My dress was beautiful and my shoes were possibly the sexiest shoes ever designed. But they hurt like hell.
All right. That's enough scatter-brained entry-ness for now.
Tomorrow is my first official day of winter break. I am so sleeping in. You have no idea. Then Tuesday, Celeste and I want to go see a psychic. And I have lots of Christmas shopping to finish up.