I’m waiting for my flight to Santiago. I feel like a pregnant woman in labor screaming, “get this thing out of me!” After weeks and weeks of planning and preparing and spending and anticipating I want to scream, get this thing going!”

If anyone knows anything about making babies it is my lovely grandmother Nana. There are some things grandmothers just shouldn’t know about, such as their young granddaughters taking off to South America to travel by herself. I knew this, so the same moment I told my parents I am going on this trip I told them “now don’t tell Nana.” Besides, with all my cousins (who are 6 years younger than I) getting married, she wouldn’t even know I was good.

Grandmothers should spend their golden years knitting their grandchildren and great-grandchildren blankets–not body bags.

As my mom was driving me to the airport earlier today, I reminded her to not tell her mother what I’m doing. Not even a minute passed when Nana called my mom. I guess my sister-in-law spilled the beans (It’s ok Michelle You didn’t know.) and for ten minutes I listened to them talk about how crazy I am, my poor judgment skills, and why can’t I find a husband.

But at least Nana said she’d pay to bring my body back to the U.S. after my mom said she wouldn’t.

Anyway, I have to go brush my teeth before my overnight flight and I just realized I didn’t pack my sleeping pills in my carry-on bag. I do have poor judgment skills. Damn!