Chi-Cha-NOHHHH!

There are some days when I just know, from the moment I wake up, that my day's going to suck.
Today was such an example.

I was very kindly woken up at 5:20 in the morning by the nice smell of minced garlic.

Mom has become addicted to hiking at 6AM... and since I'm all for her getting healthy, I accompany her.
Today, she woke up, prepared her marinade for the afternoon's carne asada, and THEN she decided to wake me up.
It was quite pleasant... like getting rear-ended by a garbage truck.

Anyway, the day continued to be weird, mostly me fighting the sandman who was trying to force me back to sleep. At some point I even got in an argument over chilaquiles... Why? I'm not sure. I think I was upset over the tortillas that were being used. Typical shit grouchy people complain about when they lack an adequate amount of sleep.

But the show stopper came at 4:45PM... right before I drove away to the gym (a little flash flood warning doesn't scare me! ... actually, I was too sleepy to give a fuck. My judgement was clouded), I received a notification from FB, so I decided to check it out on my phone before pulling out of my driveway.
What was the first thing I saw?

... haunted me the rest of the day.

What the... WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!
In case you can't tell, that's my sister... with a motherfucking Mexican national hero.
CHICHARITO! CHICHARITO!

I tell you... she meets Nas, Michael Jordan... even Shaq the other day... now this guy, the sweetest, most charismatic player I've had the joy of watching... the guy who has put Mexico's name up there.
And who have I met?
Just these two:

I actually recognized the husband before the actual celebrity, Lorena Herrera.
Oops.

How the fuck?
Actually, my entire family has had brushes with cool famous people... I'm the only luckless fool who has yet to meet anyone remarkable.

Anyway, I was SO fucked up over the fact that D had met only the most adorable soccer player on the planet/best goal scorer of the season... that I fucked up my left leg while kickboxing (all I could think about was Chicharito and my sister. It ultimately ended in me kicking like a jackass one too many times and pulling something in my hamstring/groin area).

I've been hobbling around the house... trying to stretch my hamstring/quad and groin area... all the while lamenting over my crappy luck.
Oh well.

(There's this creepy aspect to all of this--besides my freak out over a younger boy-- in that not five minutes before D posted the photo, I was compelled to visit Chicharito's "official" FB page. I have NO clue why I did it, I just clicked on the link, and I was immediately drawn to one of his photos in particular:

Am I weird for melting at the sight of this?

It's creepy to me, because I've been dealing with some religious issues for a while now--I won't bore you with detail-- and I caught myself admiring Chicharito's devotion. I know mine isn't that strong... I mean... he does this before EVERY. SINGLE. MATCH. I don't even feel comfortable making the sign of the cross in public sometimes. I find his dedication admirable... sweet, and admirable. Anyway, I saw this, and caught myself wondering how someone could be so devoted... and I also wondered if his devotion was responsible for his success. Then I saw D's post and freaked out. Just creepy coincidences that happen sometimes)