Cue: Nightmares

I found myself thrashing all over the place last night.
It's been one of the most uncomfortable nights as of recently (even more uncomfortable than the sleep I had in Bilbao... where I'd sleep on the floor on some sort-of-a-futon-but-not-really-a-futon thing... with mosquitos flying rampant and getting me real good on the arms... and that stupid kid always running upstairs at ungodly hours as his parents blast "oldies" starting at six in the morning on weekends).

I blame it on the fact that I spent most of last night wrapping my hairdresser/cousin/childhood bestfriend's gift for her bachelorette party that's going to be held later on today.
I procrastinate... we all know that... and this gift I've had in the office since Tuesday afternoon... but I decided to wrap it last night with gift wrap I first thought to be the most adorbale thing ever created because it had glittery wedding dresses, flowers, cakes, bells, and tuxedos drawn... only to find out how much glitter fucking sucks and gets in the most unexpected places.
I required the aid of my mother before the glitter got in my eye and blinded me.

Anyway, as I wrapped that ten pound (felt like 50) box of non-stick pans, I felt unbelievably sad.
It hit me: One of my best friends is getting married.... how sick.

Sure, the realization also hit me hard as Mom and I shopped for my buddy's wedding present. As I looked through the 19 pages of Sears products... I started feeling sad.

Fuck! She thought of everything! She even thought of a hamper! A hamper! Now I want a hamper...

(also... why do people need so many fucking trashcans? I counted a total of six for both places she's registered. Really? Four $16 trashcans and two $30 trashcans? Why? But I won't complain... one of my cousins not too long ago asked for a 90 dollar trashcan... which REALLY worked me up at the store, I still have that piece of paper somewhere, to show everyone "This motherfucker wanted a 90 dollar trashcan! Can you believe that? Who the hell does he think he is? Jay-Z?!")

But last night it was more pronounced...
Fuck! This is for real! She's really gonna do this!
So yeah, I wrapped the gift, tried getting the glitter off me... then went to bed.

Most of my nightmares consisted of me running away (although, one I clearly remember having to do with my brother getting a hold of my two hand-written diaries with the help of TravelinDin. I go off on both of them, demanding how far they read, almost maiming the shit out of them in my fit of rage. I woke up thinking "Oh man! I need to burn those diaries!"). One of the times I woke up, I was lying with my legs hanging off the side of the bed, since I'd made a 90 degree turn on the bed.
Another time I could almost swear I woke up saying "No!" and panting... I was definitely sweating, but I blame that on the weather.

I don't know if I just loathe the idea of getting married... or the idea of growing up... or the idea that I'm doing neither.

Here we go... I'm ready (no I'm not) for the fucking annoying questions older women are going to be throwing at me during this thing (I freaking KNOW Hairdresser/Cousin/Childhood Bestfriend is going to be on her A-game... she's always on when there's a crowd... fuck).
"So, AnoMALIE, when are you getting married?"
"Hey, AnoMALIE, why haven't we ever seen you with a boyfriend?"
"So, what do you do AnoMALIE?"

Never. I don't need one. Nothing!!!

It's moments like these where I hate being Mexican.