Mine's About A Boy Wizard

Gabi and I went out for Mexican (food) the other day, and since we've been drinking for going on ten years now we've built up quite a tolerance. And by tolerance I mean, we can get halfway through our margaritas before Gabi starts flagging down the waiter to re-salt her glass ("More. . . yeah, a little more . . . **lick**. . . ok, now you need to start over."), and I decide to play 'lets see how uncomfortable I can make the waiter with not-really-but-sort-of-supposed-to-be-sexual-innuendo directed at both him and my little sister!' ("Do you want soup or salad with that?" - Taking a bite of a tortilla chip, "Is the salad . . . crispy?" - "Uh, I guess." - "Is it spun dry, like with a salad spinner, or do you just throw it in there . . . wet?" another loud bite, and some salt gets thrown into my eye a little - "Just . . . I don't know. I could check?" - "Ow, that salt sort of stings a little." - "Are you ok ma'am?" - "MY EYE!")

And that was just after the one drink. With the second usually comes my camera, at which point Becky chooses to leave the table and find something else to do because she knows it means Gabi and I are about to take four thousand pictures of ourselves, because when we're two margaritas in its really hard to get a shot where both of us have both eyes open at the same time.

We usually never do anything with the pictures because, well because we already have a bazillion of them, and we know what we look like, but I came across one when I was deleting them that I love! I love it because it looks like my camera was drunk when it took the shot. All kinda warmly blurry.

PLUS! I'm gonna use it to send into Hogwarts if they deny my application, because clearly, CLEARLY, I can shoot lightening bolts out of my forehead.

Or, I'm getting cut with a light saber-pirate hook. Either way, I lived and I should be allowed to attend. I want to be in Gryffindor please.