new mini-series.

My cousin moved in with my family 3 months ago. From Puerto Rico.

So I decided to write about it at the suggestion of a couple of people.

A little background for now. Then I guess I'll tell some stories.

As I said before, she comes from the island. She's 28. She's had the incredible luxury of growing up around, and practically being raised by, an aunt, uncle, and grandparents. I call it a luxury because I've only ever pet these people a small handful of time. Maybe 5. Of that 5, I might remember 3. Once they came to Houston. Once that I can remember.

I've also only met my cousin this same amount of times.

So why did she leave a life in Puerto Rico? A life with family who dote on her like a goddamn princess, and (supposedly) friends. We don't know. We may never know. And quite frankly, I don't care too much at this point. We'll get to all that in due time.

The girl has been spoiled fucking rotten for her entire life.

Anyway, she transferred from a store there to a store over here. Same one.

When we started hearing talks about the fact that our cousin, who we almost never see, was moving to Houston, we were pretty damn excited. I offered her my room. Because I do nice shit like that. She got here about a week before mother's day, and we were told that she would have her own place with in a month.

That's what we were told.

It took about that long just to get her damn car over here. Which is a piece of shit by the way.

And now it's 3 months after she arrived, and she's still in my room.

Where am I? I'm sharing a room with my mom.