Stipulations...

Just because I swore off guys for 2009 doesn't mean I can't ogle my hot new trainer... and I can definitely still flirt... right?

(Why the fuck does this shit happen when I swear something off? MAN!)

Resolution

I'm going to be happy starting....
...
.....
......

NOW.
:]

(well, I had actually thought that yesterday, but something happened at the end of the day, and well, it ruined the vibe. But it's all good now)

In Mexico

Today has gone on forever...

I woke up at 6 in the morning.

I still have the cold from hell...

my eyes have been puffballs since... Saturday night.

I haven't seen the gym in 3 fucking weeks! THREE WEEKS!

Yesterday was.. I guess it's called the "wake" in English.

I sat in the front row of the chapel for the majority of the 6 hours my grandpa's body was up there.

I have no clue how many people were there... I know it was too many to count... I saw some of them, but I usually kept my head down whenever I left the chapel thingy for the bathroom. My eyes were a mess, I had no glasses, and my nose was often disgusting, so why look the entire Hometown in the face when I look like that? More than half of those people have never seen adult-ish AnoMALIE without an ounce of eye makeup... less than 5 percent have seen AnoMALIE cry. I wanted to keep it that way.

I did a relatively good job not crying. I only cried three times:

When I first saw my grandpa in our private little "close family" viewing, close to the end when some lady (whose voice I've always claimed to hate) sang a song, then at the very end when I said goodbye for the day.

I cried during the song the hardest.

There was a line about "I'll know it's you when I see the roses... I'll know it's you when I feel the breeze..." and I broke the hell down.

My grandpa loved roses... he planted the ones outside my house in Mexico... they thrived most when they were in his care. God, how he loved those rosebushes. 

So when I heard that, I freaked out and cried... and the breeze line... well... I doubt there's a person out there who doesn't like a slight breeze once in a while.

Today we had an extra hour at the mortuary with Gramps from 8:30 AM until we had to take him to church.

I was cool... up until it came time to see him one last time.

From that moment on I cried... even sobbed when they closed the casket.

Not fun.

Then came mass...

ha.

Our family totally dissed TravelinDin and I. We sat behind the front row we were all supposed to take up. *certain* people wouldn't scoot over.

From that moment on... I wanted to die.

No, not because they made me feel bad... they made me feel furious, but I had to shut the fuck up because I was in church.

The ire made me get so sick, I got those same cramps I would get in college before exams... the ones I get when I'm too anxious.

Well, I tried my best to hold it in (gag reflex is not something I know of... those years with the eating disorer helped with that), but once the service was over, I ran to the bathroom.

I guess everyone noted my absence, and they were furious... waiting for me.

The ride back to the cemetery, and once there, I had everyone pissed at me...

I got the cold shoulder BIG time from everybody.

??

Yeah... that's nice... do that to someone at a funeral, where everyone has their damn feelings shot to fucking hell and the slightest thing can trigger a sobbing attack.

I had to come home early because the pain was unbearable.

I would rush to the bathroom to vomit... then sleep when I wasn't puking... then gave up on sleeping and just played on-line games.

At one point... I do think I said "Oh God... I think I'm gonna die..."

but I'm better.

and I still can't admit my gramps is... you know... it makes me cry.

He's in Mexico... tending the flowers... with my grandma...

atypical wake

Things on the home front have been... weird.

I've seen a little bit of crying...

I only cried Sunday... all the time.

We go to my Dad's youngest sister's house and get together every day. Thats where people have been dropping by to give their condolences.

Typically, we'd be praying and whatnot, but not this time.

My aunts are taken aback by how "skinny" I am... which... clearly they're delusional. They keep asking what my "secret" is.

"Gym, Tia, that's all... also... I've been sick as hell... I usually just eat once a day, if I eat at all... that might have something to do with it."

They also hug me a lot, while saying "look!" as they wrap their arms around me, "Look how I can grab you! Look! My arms wrap completely around you and then some!" All that while others watch...

I've made it my mission to have a cupcake in hand at all times since then.

We're also laughing a lot.

?

We crack jokes, remember funny things  from the past, watch Youtube videos, get buzzed from all the tequila they have in the garage... we even play Guitar Hero.

It makes some sense to act this way, though, since most of us D's (last name) got our sense of humor from this grandpa who just passed away.

He was a freakin' riot in his earlier years. He was a mix of banter and physical comedy... he was sarcastic as well.

Now that he's gone, I'm assuming we're all putting on our best Johnny Carson's and just... making everyone else laugh.

This, of course, throws the visitors off... mainly the "traditional' ones who expect us to all be dressed in All-Black, crying, screaming, praying... looking miserable.

But they see the only screaming being done in the house is by one of us kids going 'FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUU!" when we win/lose on Guitar Hero.

I've also been sick as a dog these last few days. I'm at the stage where I sound like an old lady in the mornings, and a transvestite in the evenings.

Just lovely for when I greet the guests.

My nose is running as well...

I haven't worn an ounce of makeup since Saturday night...

I look like hell... why lie?

And who cares.

Tomorrow's gonna be a very long day...

stop iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!

No matter how much I said I was ready, I wasn't.

I had been told this was going to happen since last month...

an still... I cried... I AM still crying.

My grandfather... the one with the crazy stories about my mom trying to kill him... just died.

I was out... trying to forget he was even sick...

How fucked up is that?

CAN I GET A FUCKING BREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK?!?!?

FUCK, MAN... I'm tired of this shiiiiiiiiiitt!

Sign of things to come?

Hooray for insomnia!

...

Actually... I pretty much spent the day sort of sleeping today.

New Year's Eve was CRAZY.

Think of the craziest thing you can imagine happening to a REAL person... multiply it by three... and you have my new years.

Fights...

getting barred from a certain casino for life...

being lost in the sea of people with nothing on me but my cell phone...

Being in the same small room as Denise Richards... Having her feel so... awkward that she waves, smiles, and says hello to my group as if we're the celebrities...

Having one of your friends diss the hell out of Denise Richards in front of her face, her managers, her bodyguards, her camera crew... just... sweet God... why? She was so nice to us!

Noticing I have bigger ta-ta's than Denise Richards...

Noticing Denise Richards has a bigger ass than I do...

Did I mention cops and security guards and nasty racial slurs? No? Oh... ok... that.

All you can drink bar...

Getting pinched repeatedly by random guys while walking down the strip (is this the new thing to do? WTF?)...

weed, weed, EVERYWHERE!!

puke...

getting chewed out...

chewing people out...

hour-long wait to get out of a fucking parking garage...

20 year olds grinding on me like... dogs in heat...

frowning...

random kisses...

pictures of getting kissed...

continuously being referred to as "YO, BITCH!!" by... a friend...

having my heart broken by... the effects of alcohol...

gaining a sister :] (I LOVE YOU MOONEY!!!)

15 cops...

bathroom brawls...

embarrassment beyond compare...

europeans... everywhere! :]

"AUSSIE! AUSSIE! AUSSIE!!" "OI, OI, OI!"

crying...

Man... so much more... but I just... don't want to admit it all.

It sucked.

It was mostly bad.

I came home with the shakes, a sore throat, and I slept 2 hours...

Yeah.

I had sushi for breakfast...

I went to mass at 6PM and slept through it all... including the parts where I'd be standing (busting a "horse," where I'd be woken by the feel of my body swaying)... this only irritated the priest, who gave me the evil eye the entire evening (I was sitting in the 3rd row... so yeah...).

I went to my aunt's house, slept on her kitchen table... her reclining sofa... then her fancy sofa. Each time, her annoying little dog was all over me... biting my nose, hair, fingers, sweater... humping my arm, licking my mouth (errgghh), etc. I was too sleepy to defend myself from that little bitch... just giving up and waking up with dog slobber all over my face, dog hair all over my lovely sweater... wondering why the hell nobody got that damn dog off me as I slept like a narcoleptic all over the house.

Came home and talked to the Bay Area Crew... totally lost any sense of tiredness thanks to their goofy asses making me laugh.

... so now I can't sleep...

again.