Well, now that Christmas 2011 is a thing of the past, looks like we have to move on with New Years.
I'm debating what I'd like to do.
Month by month recap?
Quarterly recap?
No recap?
A survey?
The possibilities are endless.
Since I went ahead and dug up last years "resolution" entry, I'll go ahead and assess my... failure?
First, the part of last year's entry that mentioned some sort of resolution:
The relationship thing.
I might as well have sworn off relationships this year. This year has definitely, without a doubt, been the... emptiest of my life.
It's not because of a lack of boys... this year was full of strange dudes coming into my life. I can't act like that shit wasn't fun... because it was (often times, I find myself bringing up that DC memory of me walking down the rainy sidewalk with T. It was... pretty fucking sweet. And the Berkley Math Major is... he's tight. I like that kid... he calls me "cute" and I mean... no one has called me "cute" since I was in 5th grade. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside).
I just... couldn't connect. My head and heart would refuse to accept anyone.
Part of it was due to my Darcy block, but this time around it was largely due to school, actually... because I was "too focused" on what was going on with that shit.
My heart had zero interest in finding a guy after my world had been blown to smithereens by the March rejection letters. So... I kinda followed through with that first part of my resolution... in the worst possible way.
AnoMALIE: 1 World: 0
"Be More of a Girl" thing.
Not really... though I do wear more colors now... and I paint my nails often. I also hell of follow through with my nightly face-washing routine. I have that shit on lock.
But I definitely have to step up my game when it comes to wearing dresses... and lipstick... and enjoying "girl time." I guess this is a half-fail.
AnoMALIE: 1.5 World: 0.5
"Talk to Darcy about something other than Cristiano Ronaldo being a dick" etc. thing.
This is... I guess I'll consider it a fail. I don't really talk to him at all now. Well, more like... he doesn't really talk to me, at least not how he used to.
Since I hate being that girl, I'll say something, and if he doesn't respond (which is probable) I try not to harp, much less dwell on it (easier said than done). I don't want to be that annoying pest who never shuts the fuck up. All I can ever think of is that saying in spanish "al buen entendedor pocas palabras" which is basically saying you need to use few words with those who "understand." As in, your actions speak louder than words. You can't force someone to like you... this ain't no "Misery" shit... no bricks and sledgehammers needed.
It just sucks to note how you're like that attention starved mutt at the pound, trying to get adopted, only to see the humans go for the cuter breeds with some rad pedigree (fuck you, Yorkies!).
I always have to remind myself to shut the fuck up and back down whenever I happen to direct something at him... which I won't lie, bums me out... it feels like when I was a kid playing in the backyard and our ball would fall into the grumpy next-door-neighbor's yard. The moment the ball made its way over the fence, we all knew that shit was a goner, so we just had to suck it up and go find something else to do with our time.
He may or may not get irritated by me... he may or may not be (ah, who the fuck am I kidding, he is) indifferent to me... but... my heart still flutters at the mere sight of his name. He's still the motherfucking shit. He'll always be Darcy.
He did show sweet sympathy the day my world collapsed. After reading what he wrote, it did make me stop crying for about ten seconds... then I proceeded to cry even harder because I felt like an even bigger fucking stupid idiot.
GREAT! Now Darcy knows what a fucking loser you are! Congratulations, AnoMALIE, you fucking stupid idiot!
So there's that. I guess it's what keeps this resolution from being a terrible failure.
AnoMALie: 1.5 World: 1.5
And finally...
The physical aspect.
I've stayed away from this subject... though I have various drafts saved up in this bitch. I just don't have the heart to post them... because they embarrass the shit out of me. I avoid the subject because I feel shame and disgust and sadness... with some pride and joy.... it's all a fucking wide array of feelings that generally mess me up.
Like I've stated before, I wasn't thinking about my resolution the moment I decided to embark on this trip. I was thinking of DYING. I no longer had any will... desire... to live. I did not care to see another day.
Then my body changed. I started to get curious about the possibilities... gave me another reason to see a few more days... you know, just to see what could happen... and to try and get accustomed to the changes (it wasn't until recently that I stopped bumping into walls because my brain couldn't properly gauge the size of my frame).
I gained some muscle once I started to love what I saw... but that took time... enough time to find a reason to live. No, seriously. I found purpose to wake up in the morning thanks to the gym. Had that shit not been available... I don't know if I'd still be breathing today.
In the words of Daft Punk, I'm harder, better, faster, stronger...
with a ton of room for improvement, which actually excites the shit out of me.
I definitely improved from last year. Last night, we were all sitting down watching the video from Coconut's September 2010 Quinceañera.
At first we were all giggling, cramping up from laughing so hard... then D and I ended up crying. Sis thinks SHE looked bad... but I was three times worse. I had to look away after about ten minutes of watching myself... because it was painful. Painfully embarrassing. D and I were so upset, we got emotional and started to cry.
Imagine... this was me exactly a year ago... even with me lifting heavy and hitting the gym four to five times a week, religiously:
It embarrasses me SO bad... so fucking bad. Just check out how that old yarn bracelet fit me back then:
It was starting to cut off my circulation, where I'd have to place it on my ballerina wrist so that it wouldn't hurt me (I could balloon to 400 pounds and my wrists would still be useless skinny pieces of shit that would simply break under the tremendous pressure. How the hell such skinny stupid wrists made it evolutionarily-speaking is fucking beyond me. That trait should not have propagated that successfully... but I guess they do look classy while playing the violin... I give them that... those stupid dainty wrists).
Today, that same bracelet nearly wriggles off my much bonier ballerina wrist:
So, physically, I've never been better, seriously, NEVER... unless you consider me at like... toddlerhood to third grade... back in my jump-roping, tag-playing days.
My skin is also far better than it has ever been (although I do have the occasional puffy eyes from crying like the pussy that I am. I'll also have dark circles under my eyes from time to time).
So physically, 2011 was my fucking year. I spanked that ass.
Sentimentally/emotionally, I've never been worse. I've never reached such terrifying lows.
I've never been physically paralyzed by sadness as I have this year. I always thought that was a fucking lie. Fucking impossible. Made up for the movies.
I felt things I never thought were possible... dark, evil... terrible things.
I thought things I never... that I never wanted to ever think.
I am FUCKED. UP.
Sentimentally/emotionally, 2011 fucked me up... fucked me up real good... placed-me-in-a-coma type good.
According to my calculations, how'd I fare for 2011?
AnoMALIE: 2.5
World: 1.5
It sure didn't feel like that. Not. At. All.
I'm debating what I'd like to do.
Month by month recap?
Quarterly recap?
No recap?
A survey?
The possibilities are endless.
Since I went ahead and dug up last years "resolution" entry, I'll go ahead and assess my... failure?
First, the part of last year's entry that mentioned some sort of resolution:
During the dinner, we all started talking about resolutions, and more than half of us were of the "FUCK LOVE!" crew. I even blurted out "Fuck it, I'm getting married to the first fucker that asks this year! I'm done!" but I blamed that shit on the Agavero. Marriage... pshhhhhhhh! In all reality, I haven't even thought of resolutions. I never really follow through... like that one year I swore boys off (not that I was going to start seeing girls. I just meant no relationships), I broke that one off within days and I paid DEARLY for it. So... no resolutions so far. Maybe just... less thinking about boys and more thinking about school. Simple enough, right? Blaaaaaah. I also resolve to be more of a girl. This tomboy shit is starting to bug me. And maybe I'll talk to Darcy about something other than Cristiano Ronaldo being a dick... and I'll quit being so sarcastic and full of "HA-HA!"s when writing back... I don't know why I do that. On the physical aspect... I guess I can gun for a 150 bench-press (here I go talking shit no one wants to read). I've been meandering in the 100's like a chump for too long (last week one of my friends accompanied me, and when she saw what I was lifting, she gave me that "Ughh... muscles on girls are so gross" talk. I just laughed... 'cause this was coming form a girl whose high school sport was bowling... get out of here)... and I'll work on keeping my thighs under control, 'cause I'll be the first to admit that with those bitches, along with my ass, I could have saved all 87 members of the Donner Party that tragic winter of 1800-whatever.Umm... where to start? The first part of the entry would be good, I suppose. Brace yourselves, this is gonna be a long one.
The relationship thing.
I might as well have sworn off relationships this year. This year has definitely, without a doubt, been the... emptiest of my life.
It's not because of a lack of boys... this year was full of strange dudes coming into my life. I can't act like that shit wasn't fun... because it was (often times, I find myself bringing up that DC memory of me walking down the rainy sidewalk with T. It was... pretty fucking sweet. And the Berkley Math Major is... he's tight. I like that kid... he calls me "cute" and I mean... no one has called me "cute" since I was in 5th grade. It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside).
I just... couldn't connect. My head and heart would refuse to accept anyone.
Part of it was due to my Darcy block, but this time around it was largely due to school, actually... because I was "too focused" on what was going on with that shit.
My heart had zero interest in finding a guy after my world had been blown to smithereens by the March rejection letters. So... I kinda followed through with that first part of my resolution... in the worst possible way.
AnoMALIE: 1 World: 0
"Be More of a Girl" thing.
Not really... though I do wear more colors now... and I paint my nails often. I also hell of follow through with my nightly face-washing routine. I have that shit on lock.
But I definitely have to step up my game when it comes to wearing dresses... and lipstick... and enjoying "girl time." I guess this is a half-fail.
AnoMALIE: 1.5 World: 0.5
"Talk to Darcy about something other than Cristiano Ronaldo being a dick" etc. thing.
This is... I guess I'll consider it a fail. I don't really talk to him at all now. Well, more like... he doesn't really talk to me, at least not how he used to.
Since I hate being that girl, I'll say something, and if he doesn't respond (which is probable) I try not to harp, much less dwell on it (easier said than done). I don't want to be that annoying pest who never shuts the fuck up. All I can ever think of is that saying in spanish "al buen entendedor pocas palabras" which is basically saying you need to use few words with those who "understand." As in, your actions speak louder than words. You can't force someone to like you... this ain't no "Misery" shit... no bricks and sledgehammers needed.
It just sucks to note how you're like that attention starved mutt at the pound, trying to get adopted, only to see the humans go for the cuter breeds with some rad pedigree (fuck you, Yorkies!).
I always have to remind myself to shut the fuck up and back down whenever I happen to direct something at him... which I won't lie, bums me out... it feels like when I was a kid playing in the backyard and our ball would fall into the grumpy next-door-neighbor's yard. The moment the ball made its way over the fence, we all knew that shit was a goner, so we just had to suck it up and go find something else to do with our time.
He may or may not get irritated by me... he may or may not be (ah, who the fuck am I kidding, he is) indifferent to me... but... my heart still flutters at the mere sight of his name. He's still the motherfucking shit. He'll always be Darcy.
He did show sweet sympathy the day my world collapsed. After reading what he wrote, it did make me stop crying for about ten seconds... then I proceeded to cry even harder because I felt like an even bigger fucking stupid idiot.
GREAT! Now Darcy knows what a fucking loser you are! Congratulations, AnoMALIE, you fucking stupid idiot!
So there's that. I guess it's what keeps this resolution from being a terrible failure.
AnoMALie: 1.5 World: 1.5
And finally...
The physical aspect.
I've stayed away from this subject... though I have various drafts saved up in this bitch. I just don't have the heart to post them... because they embarrass the shit out of me. I avoid the subject because I feel shame and disgust and sadness... with some pride and joy.... it's all a fucking wide array of feelings that generally mess me up.
Like I've stated before, I wasn't thinking about my resolution the moment I decided to embark on this trip. I was thinking of DYING. I no longer had any will... desire... to live. I did not care to see another day.
Then my body changed. I started to get curious about the possibilities... gave me another reason to see a few more days... you know, just to see what could happen... and to try and get accustomed to the changes (it wasn't until recently that I stopped bumping into walls because my brain couldn't properly gauge the size of my frame).
I gained some muscle once I started to love what I saw... but that took time... enough time to find a reason to live. No, seriously. I found purpose to wake up in the morning thanks to the gym. Had that shit not been available... I don't know if I'd still be breathing today.
In the words of Daft Punk, I'm harder, better, faster, stronger...
 |
| It's cold as fuck outside, but I still roam around the house in a wife beater... because I like to flaunt my trap and delts... like some dude. |
I definitely improved from last year. Last night, we were all sitting down watching the video from Coconut's September 2010 Quinceañera.
At first we were all giggling, cramping up from laughing so hard... then D and I ended up crying. Sis thinks SHE looked bad... but I was three times worse. I had to look away after about ten minutes of watching myself... because it was painful. Painfully embarrassing. D and I were so upset, we got emotional and started to cry.
Imagine... this was me exactly a year ago... even with me lifting heavy and hitting the gym four to five times a week, religiously:
 |
| I will beat the fucking shit out of anyone who mocks this. |
 |
| Christ. This is so embarrassing. And to top it off, an ant just bit me as I wrote this. |
Today, that same bracelet nearly wriggles off my much bonier ballerina wrist:
 |
| Oh man! And that wonderful watch, while I adore it, gave me the most atrocious bruise on Friday! It definitely wasn't made for clapping hands. I walked out of the basketball game with a bruised hand from where the watch would bang up against my skin/vein each time I'd go crazy with a play. |
My skin is also far better than it has ever been (although I do have the occasional puffy eyes from crying like the pussy that I am. I'll also have dark circles under my eyes from time to time).
So physically, 2011 was my fucking year. I spanked that ass.
Sentimentally/emotionally, I've never been worse. I've never reached such terrifying lows.
I've never been physically paralyzed by sadness as I have this year. I always thought that was a fucking lie. Fucking impossible. Made up for the movies.
I felt things I never thought were possible... dark, evil... terrible things.
I thought things I never... that I never wanted to ever think.
I am FUCKED. UP.
Sentimentally/emotionally, 2011 fucked me up... fucked me up real good... placed-me-in-a-coma type good.
According to my calculations, how'd I fare for 2011?
AnoMALIE: 2.5
World: 1.5
It sure didn't feel like that. Not. At. All.
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