Effin Family, man.

I am currently hanging out with the familia in Long Beach. Comments overhead:

"Can you buy me a saxophone?" (My brother, the jazz musician. He got all the music talent in the family. However, I find it interesting that he'd turn to his broke-just-out-of-college sister for a $2000 saxophone instead of the parentals. Sometimes you need someone in your life who's not constantly thinking everything in terms of how it will help your GPA.)

"Did you lose weight?" (I've lost five pounds since the last time my uncle saw me. Last I saw him, it was "Wow. You look kinda big." Thanks Uncle Oeuy. I appreciate that. Bastard.)

I've been more irritated in the past six hours than I have been through the entirety of Finals Week. I snapped at people at least twice, and each time it happened, I got a look from my mom. You know, the 'I can't believe my daughter is so rude' look. My family has a knack for brining out the worst in me.

However, in the past six hours it hit me that I'm graduating. Sixteen years of school behind me, and I didn't start to get really excited until I saw my family congratulating me, telling me how proud they were of me, for doing something no one else in our family has done. It makes a person feel kinda good. Almost good enough to forget that they're trying to get you to move back home with promises of "It'll save you money," and laments of "But we're lonely without our kids!"

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