Wednesday, January 28, 2015

My episode

And the texts have begun...

First person to notice

second person, randomly, a few hours later.

Good news: I appear BRIEFLY. Even better news: you don't even know what I sound like.

And so, this is how I made my first appearance on the small(er) screen.
Reality TV is fucking hilarious.
My favorite part is the scripting. 

Monday, January 26, 2015


Today marks my big television debut...
Hahaha... no, not television... I mean, it's on a certain streaming platform... not like people with shitty internet connection (like I do) would be able to see it.
And I'm pretty sure I'll be seen in only one episode... well, I hope that's all... no, in truth, I hope they somehow found a way to crop me out, or just deleted the scene... but no, I'm pretty fucking prominent... so... I'll more than likely show up... and I REALLY hope no one who knows me watches (hence why I won't give more information here).

I'm a little more alert now. Last night I found myself falling asleep in the middle of my typing. I finished the entry feeling like I do when I embark on a driving mission from Hometown, and we hit the horrible hell that is the area between Phoenix and Las Vegas-- that stretch of road is the worst torture of the 20+ hours of non-stop driving (your brain tells you you're almost home, and it gives you a little buzz... but the road is dark and desolate, nothing to stare at in hopes of keeping your mind busy, so your eyes begin to feel heavy as lead. It's horrible).

Anyway, the young man I wrote about last night was none other than good ol' MGH.
His cousin called me to complain about his behavior... hoping to get me to somehow fix the situation.
"AnoMALIE, he got KICKED OUT OF THE CASINO because they caught him in the bathroom with some girl doing... well, you know!" she said.
"Blow?" I asked.
"...Job... Among other things. Not drugs," she said.
"He's always had those tendencies... randomly fucking girls, regardless of his relationship status. I learned that... umm... five years ago, when I took him to Cancun," I said.
"All I could think was about how terrible I feel for *HisCurrentGirlfriend*!" she said.
"Yeah, he has always been putting me in the predicament. We'll be hanging out and I'll suddenly see him doing some shady, dirty shit with a complete stranger. I'll have to look away, because I feel guilty, but I'm not his mom to chastise him or try to correct him... so I choose not to deal with it at all and just let him fuck up his own life."

His cousin (Pacemaker) was discussing this subject with me for a good half-hour. I had to try and help her shake off the guilt.
Like I said last night, this whole situation had me thinking back to the huge explosion I had with this guy, MGH. The painful heartbreak I was in for SO fucking long. That weird-ass relationship of ours. I told that dude stuff I've never told other guys. I was closer to him than I've ever been with any guy. I was seriously moments away from moving out there for him.
I had some of the most entertaining moments of my life with that guy... and some of the most sour. I don't think I've cried so much thanks to a guy than I did with MGH. Homeboy had me fucked up.

The heartbreak I have with Darcy is SO NOT like the one with MGH-- for one, Darcy never EVER ever acknowledged me as... even a romantic POSSIBILITY. He has absolutely zero fault over my heartbreak (well... ummm... I do get upset over how I'm PREEEEEEEETTYYYYYY fucking sure he knew of my feelings for him and how he STILL tried to pin me onto a dude I repeatedly told I had ZERO interest in... but whatever. Bros before hoes, right? Trying to do his buddy a solid. Whatever. But still, all of that shit PALES in comparison to the fucking BULLSHIT stunts MGH deliberately pulled on me). It's just shit that happens when you're a shy, quiet idiot who yearns for someone she'll perpetually hold a candle for, but never actually go for... mainly because it's totally unrequited. It's what we shy folk do... because we're fucking dumb and don't know how to fix that tendency. It's the life of an emotionally fucked up introvert. Whatever.
But MGH lead me on. And used me. Shamelessly used me. He'd hold that proverbial carrot in front of me and watch as I'd faithfully follow in hopes of catching it. I was a blind moron and he used that to his advantage... just handing me crumbs the moment he'd catch me moving on, just to reel me back in.
I kept him company during the difficult time he had readjusting to life in a foreign country when he was a teen. I kept him from feeling alone... the kid's a social butterfly, "alone time" kills them. I encouraged him when he needed it, made him laugh when he had an extra shitty day, and stroked his ego when he was feeling ugly and fat (not to mention I physically massaged his back for HOURS almost every time I saw him). I'd stay up until four in the morning sometimes, video-chatting with him until one of us was completely exhausted.

I'm not going to sit here and act like I regret all that stuff... 'cause I'd be lying if I said that shit wasn't fun, or that it didn't help ME feel better... because it was fun, and those laughs/smiles are memories I'll cherish.
But man, was that shit draining... and... well, it fucked me up to watch him flirt and fuck all these girls, just random, forgettable girls... indiscriminately... and I'd have to pretty much beg for him to HUG me. Today, I hug that cat left and right, but back then? Homeboy acted like I had some contagious skin disease... or I was made of some deadly high voltage or some shit.
The years of the back and forth finally led to my angry outburst, demanding to know WHY he treated me the way he did... why he never gave me an honest decent shot, the title of his girlfriend, when he knew and SAW how much I loved him. "AM I NOT A GIRL?! I fucking love you! To me you are perfect!"
And his response is one of those sentences that is burned into my memory:
... I don't know what to say... ?

Nothing. You don't need to say anything.

And I cried. I cried for fucking months.
I couldn't stop crying because I felt so... unloveable. Here I had this guy, who had known me for the majority of our lives, and who knew things about me that no one else knew... who knew me better than any guy on the planet... and he STILL was unwilling to give ME a shot.  Still unwilling to go give me a shot knowing exactly how strongly I felt for him, and how much I was willing to do for him. The same guy I spent years watching as he hooked up with the ugliest, dumbest, sluttiest, trashiest, grossest girls... patiently waiting for him to finally call me next... was turning ME down. I was considered LESS than these LEGITIMATE whores. At least, that was my thought process at the time.
Nothing feels shittier than that. Nothing had ever made me feel so insignificant.

But eventually, I picked myself up, and chose our friendship over everything.
And I continued to watch him go back to his ways of random hook-ups... this while he was now dating a new girl. I'd see his lovey posts to her... all that corny, love-struck bullshit, only to later watch him become a dog once he was in Vegas, away from his girl.

I thought he had finally changed with this new girl... but I guess I was wrong.

So yeah... a few years back I was distraught over this rejection. My sense of self-worth was non-existent.
Now I... well, I'm glad it happened.
Painful as shit to experience, but MAN, I sure fucking dodged a giant bullet.
This was just... stubbing my toe on a corner, really.

Now I really hope his close friends don't think I'm his side-piece, because what kind of fucking idiot hangs around a guy for 22 years without ever fucking him, right?
(This idiot. This idiot who apparently wasn't a girl until about... three years ago)

Niña no fui

These last few weeks have been the fucking shittiest.
And now I'm fighting the flu... which is always fun.
The only two employees my folks had working full time quit as soon as we returned from vacation, and all hell has broken loose since then. My dad goes in and works the morning shifts every day, and my mom goes in for the afternoon-closing shift. I go and "keep Mom company" (don't want to say something that will have me lose my healthcare benefits, especially since I'm not getting paid for my time) once the sun goes down. This is every day.

Aside from the primary job of my folks, we're also working our asses off rebuilding a house we're supposed to have prepared for February 1st. That whole remodeling shit is terrible because we're working against the clock each day, since we haven't even hooked up the electricity. Each day we have until around 4pm to get as much done before we lose sunlight.
I now know more about building a fucking house than I ever thought I'd know... or would fucking care to know. Goddamn stereotypes are true as fuck... I'm fucking AMAZING at house remodeling... my perfectionism comes into play and I build/paint/sweep/cut/break/sweet/push/mend/clean like a motherfucking MASTER. It's tedious work, but I'll be fucking damned if I hand over a half-assed product. I'm polishing the FUCK out of everything. And I know it won't be returned to us in the same condition we rent it out, but there I am, still scrubbing/painting/sanding/chiseling away like motherfucking Michelangelo n shit.

Have I mentioned all this before? I don't remember, because I'm so tired and frustrated, it's hard for me to concentrate. It doesn't help that I have people on my ass, complaining and nagging about my behavior... and that just further aggravates me... it fucking rattles me. Needy folk stress the fucking shit out of me.

Yesterday I did return one of the calls I had missed earlier in the week.
I shouldn't have.
Now all I can think of is what... a jerk a certain dude can be.
It also makes me sit in awe over how the world works... how everything really does happen for a reason... as shitty as that fucking event may seem at the time.
"Why not me?! What's so wrong with ME? AM I NOT A GIRL?!" That famous meltdown of mine from like... Jesus, that was six years ago... man... Oh, anyway, yeah, that meltdown I look back on and realize that uh... that was probably the best blessing ever. Good Lord, I'm happy I wasn't a girl to him back then... fuck!

Patient. I must be patient.
And less naive. 

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

in deep

Ten years ago I knew I was done.
I was in deep.

And I still couldn't keep eye contact. I still stared at the table directly in front of me... but instead of being directly across from me, he was now directly to my left. I did everything in my power to avoid looking in that direction... because I'd feel my face go up in temperature at the mere thought. I knew I'd probably blush like a dumbass, and that was obviously the worst thing I could do.

The belt-buckle semester.

... I'm... I can't write.
Not today.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

TF You Want?

Hey, how are you feeling? See photo above.
Hey, are you ok? See photo above.
Hey, why aren't you... SEE PHOTO ABOVE.

That's my "'the fuck you want?" look/vibe... but the non-menacing kind... more of the "irritated, but still listening to you" kind... like you just MIGHT say/suggest/demand something interesting, but I definitely had more pressing matters to handle.
"What do you want, weirdo?" and "'The fuck you doin'?" could be suitable replacements.
("Weirdo" because thanks to your stupid shit, you just made me take away my attention from that candy I was trying to enjoy)

(Tangent-ish: now do y'all understand why I mostly chill with guys? That's all that surrounded me in my youngest days)

This I find appropriate only because I attended a baby's birthday party yesterday where the fucking asshole parents DENIED me a goodie-bag... only me.
Yeah, I was pissed... mainly because:
1. I love candy
2. Here I am a single, barren girl...
  A. surrounded by CLOWNS who wanted to
     i. Paint my face
     ii. Make me dance or
     iii. Make me laugh. No bitch, I don't do clowns.
  B. surrounded by ILL-BEHAVED children who were
     i. running
     ii. screaming
     iii. THROWING GANG SIGNS (kids are still into fucking cholos?! Blew my fucking mind).
     iv. throwing toys into people's plates full of food. Fuck. That.
  C. surrounded by her Mexican relatives, all of whom have procreated... and I'm just... you know... single and almost-30 (never mind the fact I was also the only person in the building with a college degree... who give a fuck about that, right? Probably why the bitch will die alone, anyway... too smart for her own good, am I right?). Good shit.

The LEAST I deserved was a fucking $2-worth of candy bag.
But no. Instead, I sat in the kitchen, watching the Disney channel... completely captivated by some movie I had never heard of ("Mirror, Mirror"... embarrassing to admit, but whatever. A fucking kid threw a Hotwheel into my plate of birria, do you think I gave a single fuck the rest of the day? Nah, man, I mentally checked out right then and there).

I go on fun tangents, don't I?
See photo above.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

sooooo bad

I lack expertise on many things... actually, I'm pretty bad with most things.
But knowing how NOT to wreck your life? I'm an expert... mainly because I've been so motherfucking GREAT at fucking shit up for myself. All you really have to do if you want to succeed at something, is do the opposite of what I did.

Knowledge on how to deal with heartbreak? Girl, I got you.

Today's relationship issue was my sister's. While we're not on the best of places in our own sisterly bond, I still don't like knowing she's out there alone in the world crying over some douchebag.

Does it get better? Meh. Maybe if you're attractive... which my sister is. For me? No, it doesn't get better. That motherfucking line is BULLLLLLSHIT for a girl like me... time has proven it. Repeatedly. I stand here, don't I? I'm nearly 30, and I'm here to say that NO, it certainly fucking doesn't get better for some people. It certainly has never gotten better for me. But my sister is of a different kind of girl... she has always been popular. I'm more of the... odd rarity-- the one poor fool who gets struck by lightning, repeatedly, but never wins something like the lotto.

Does it stop hurting? No... you just become a little numb to it... sometimes forgetting, as long as someone or something doesn't exacerbate the memory. You learn to function, even feel stuff for other people... but the hurt remains there, ready to flare up at the slightest provocation. Feelings of inadequacy will linger, probably forever. You memorize every single word he utters to you. Every single painful letter... of whatever ugly, stupid, hurtful sentence he manages to spew at you to finally dropkick the fucking shit out of your heart.
I don't know what to say?
Just another girl, nothing more, nothing less.
You'll walk past a Margaritaville, and find yourself locked in a bathroom stall five minutes later, crying your eyes out after the memories prove too tough to handle.
Or you'll be sitting in a dimly lit room, watching others drink... and you'll immediately head out in search for a brighter room, all in hopes of not bursting into sobs.
But you'll function... and many normal days will come. Shit, you'll even have some awesome days... numerous awesome days.

Do I think my sister will get better? Yep. Do I think she'll find another love? Of course, it's her. My advice to her is true, I believe in it... for her case.

At least she has that memory, that knowledge, that at some point, he felt something for her.... obviously not as strong as she did, but at least enough for him to give her the time of day... for years. She felt it. Literally.
Even if the feeling never evolved to love from his behalf, at least it wasn't apathy. At least she wasn't "just another girl." At least she had a name. At least she heard him say her name. At least she existed to him.
She has to find some solace in that.
She was something, someone, at some point. That has to count for something.

I hadn't thought about this fucking subject in a minute. Now this. Great. Fucking great.
(I lie. Last month I had a very comforting dream. Comforting, just comforting. I was sitting, facing a lake on a summer evening, watching the sun set. Pink sky. Knees hugged against my chest... crying. Then suddenly I feel him gently patting my back. Nothing romantic... nothing... romantic... just compassion. A comforting patting of my back, letting me know everything would be ok. Just that same comforting, silent company. He hadn't crossed my mind for a while until that dream... tumbled everything back to zero. I'm back to zero)

Monday, January 12, 2015

Smile, idiot

A smile really gets me places.
A smile and a good attitude.
And it's extra cool if it's a dude who handles my issue.

One of the issues responsible for ruining my weekend was swiftly taken care of after I patiently waited my turn for a nice four hours. The waiting didn't even bother me, given I had already spent a good 48 hours worrying my fucking head off (in the privacy of my home).
Before entering the queue line, I made up my mind to be nice and patient... and smile.
I kept that vibe going even after four hours of listening to kids screaming in my ear.

Once my name was called, I hustled to my door, and continued with my sunny, kind disposition as soon as I saw the cool dude handling my case.
A few key strokes here, a few key strokes there... and bam, within five minutes everything was good.

I had to fight the urge to hug and kiss the dude.

One down, three issues to go.

Sunday, January 11, 2015

more like '09

Trying to keep it together.
Another one of those episodes where everything goes wrong, even little things I always take for granted, is currently wrecking shit up.

Kind of hard to write up the stuff I had planned, since all these fuck ups preoccupy my mind.
This upcoming week promises to be challenging as fuck... and not the fun type of challenging, but the "I'm going to rip out my fucking hair and kick the shit out of this brick wall" type challenging.

2015 is looking eerily similar to 2009...
God, please no.

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Sea leggy

I really should get to talking about some of the activities enjoy last month before I go on and forget them.
I tried discussing some of the events of the last month with Mom yesterday, and caught myself slipping with the names of some of the locations (they were ports, so can you blame me? I don't really give a shit about water... so... kind of normal for me to forget).
Just so I DON'T forget, the Friday before I left, as in, the day after Christmas, we all packed up our shit and headed out on a day cruise to three little islands: Hydra, Poros, and Aegina. I think I have difficulty with the latter two because they were spelled so differently. There was the English spelling, the Greek spelling, and the Greek-phonetically-speaking-to-an-English-speaker-which-turned-out-to-sound-like-Mexican-Spanish spelling. I never knew what to go with... mostly anything other than English, because English was always wrong.

Anyway, Hydra was memorable because that's where Jackie O lived post-JFK. There were so many filthy cats and stinky donkeys... I wasn't overly joyed to be there. One thing I will say, however, was that once we left the touristy areas it was quite gorgeous... with tiny streets (no roads/cars, which was sweet because cars are quite the nuisance in the hands of some Europeans...) and steep, gorgeous hills. It was cluttered, but in a nice way, if that makes sense. Cluttered cutesy stuff.
Just that thing where you have to watch out for cat shit... and constantly staring at some dirty cat who will stare you down if you have a trace of food on you... that was the negative. Goddamn cats.

Hydra was the first stop after a couple of hours at sea on this ferry. I quickly learned I fucking hate ferries. I hated the rocking motion. I hated the fact that I had to just sit there. I WAS glad, however, that at no point was I left to stare at open seas. There was always a little island or rock formation for me to stare at... so I wouldn't have that overwhelming sense of anxiety with staring at just... ocean.
Anyway, thanks to being stuck on this ferry for so long (there was this large group of Spanish tourists who quickly grew on everyone's nerves... they just wouldn't shut the fuck up. They were the loudest, giggliest group of elitists I've met in a minute. Sure, they had some good moments, but god forbid anyone try to JOIN their jovial party-- they'd be stared down like a bunch of lepers), we eagerly stepped off the ferry and mingled with what Hydra had to offer (frustrated locals who trashtalked the tourists who dared venture off the touristic area-- my brother translated).
A group of boys tried flirting with my sister at the cafe we walked into. Sister had no interest in what the boys had to say, mainly because she really needed to go to the bathroom. I stood there somewhat uncomfortable, because I'm sure they automatically thought I too was a bitch (which, sure, because I too really had to take a piss, and all I really knew how to say in Greek was "sorry" and "thank you").
Anyway, we eventually settled outside the establishment to stare at the water/boats... and fight the urge to barf at the sight of nasty street cats eating the fur off themselves (I swear I fucking despise cats after this trip. I used to be apathetic to cats... now I straight up hate them. Keep those fucking cats away from me... dirty motherfuckers). It was an interesting scene... sipping on some delicious coffee, eating some sort of delectable honey-covered Greek pastry, laughing with the funny conversation of my group, smelling the wet donkeys nearby... and those fucking cats... jesus, those fucking cats.

We checked out Hydra for about an hour, then headed back into the boat to scope out Poros.
Poros was an hour and a half away (I think?), but I wouldn't know how long it took, because this was the part of the trip where we were fed the buffet-styled lunch.
Poros was pleasant. We were given an hour and a half to discover the sights. I think this might have been the place we roamed around the most. The buildings were the most memorable... so much white, gold, blue, and terracotta roof tops. We stepped inside a few bakeries... and ate some more baked goods, duh! I think about the baklava and still drool.

The next stop was Aegina. This place was fun. What do I remember most? PISTACHIOS. We checked out some ruins... then grabbed some pistachio ice cream (absolutely delicious), and stared at some more ruins... and Athens in the distance. We also checked out a very pretty church... St. Athanasia? Anyway, we then checked out the city a bit more, and wound up purchasing kilos-worth of pistachios... and honey.

The trip was ok... I'd say wonderful had I not acquired a mild case of sea-legs. I was fighting the urge to puke at dinner later that day (back in Athens). The mood was also a bit somber, because Clemson and Pacemaker were leaving in the morning... so we were basically having our outing together.

Will I ever go on a boat ride again? I can't say I plan on it any time soon... that shit just isn't for me. However, I'm glad I saw what I did on this trip... and tasted what I did... because they will be sights, smells and tastes I'll constantly return to (in my mind) on my bad days (well, you know, I could have done without the smell of wet donkey and dirty, nasty cats).

NAMES... I can't forget NAMES!

Sunday, January 4, 2015


I had a nice entry mapped out in my mind on Friday... nice, happy entry relating to my recent travels.
Then sad shit started happening.
I lost any and all thoughts running through my mind that were not those of concern for my friends currently hurting.

This family, my sister's best friend's family, we go back about 15 or so years.
The family is very similar to mine:
The dads have the same name.
The moms are the same age (birthdays the same week) and hail from the same part of Mexico (two towns apart).
The first born is a male, one born exactly a month before the other (my brother is the "young" one).
The middle kids are both girls with the same name.
The youngest/third kid is a girl, born on the same day, two years apart (my sister is the "older" one).
They were neighbor's/best friends with my mom's deceased, beloved brother when they lived in The Bay.

We became friends due to being in the same circle of friends when the whole Quinceañera circuit began for my brother and me (I was 13). We always bumped into each other, and I had a crush on the guy. I eventually made friends with the middle daughter, and introduced her to my little sister... the two immediately clicked.
Then my sister grew closer to the middle girl, crushed on the older brother, and I stepped aside.
The friendship/bond only grew as the years went by.

Yesterday was the 6 year anniversary of my paternal grandfather's death.
Yesterday, this family lost their maternal grandfather.

We hadn't noticed we were missing a similarity amongst the grandparents...

Coincidences make me smile... but when it's this... sad, well, it just breaks my heart.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

2015? That shit a typo?

I cringe now that I have to check in with my resolutions from last year.
I think I kept it short... but let's see.

1. Smile more often. I look like a homicidal psychopath when I'm not smiling.
2. Good vibes. Avoid negativity... especially when I am the one emitting that shit. It's not cool.
3. Muscle. I will build some nice muscle and quit being so lax on the diet. I'm old, I need to watch myself.
4. Learn to take a compliment... and more importantly, believe it when someone compliments me.
5. Make an effort to take care of my physical appearance.... there's nothing wrong with being a girly-girl. It's about time I gave a shit about facials and all that shit.

Now to dissect each one.
1. Nope. Still looking like the good ol' homicidal psychopath. I think I may have frowned more this year than previous years. Prior to Athens, I actually had some horrible scowl-lines by my mouth. Athens seriously has some rejuvenating powers, because my skin did some backwards aging out there... acne included. Ha! But seriously, my forehead looks fucking good, and I was over here thinking about Botox... pfft!
Anyway, I failed this one... especially since I can count how many times I smiled January-August using only the fingers on one hand.

2. Goddamn it... failed this one as well. While I wasn't really "absorbing" the negative vibes of others (uh... no, actually, I was... since I was able to feel SO MUCH rage from the actions of others... like the whole July babyshower fiasco etc), I was DEFINITELY in a negative space. I was mean. I angrily glared at people who got too close to me at the gym... ugh... I was odious.

3. OH GOD! NO! FUCKING THIRD ONE IN A ROW! Failure again. Jesus. My arms got buff as fuck... as did my back. I have traps that even men would envy. Everywhere else? BAHAHAHA! NO! No, wait, my abs were pretty badass around February/March. I actually had a sweet four-pack going on. My quads were behaving themselves around the start of the year as well... but uh... all bets were off around September. I INDULGED like a biiiitch. It also didn't help that I acquired a nasty, bothersome injury so early in the year. You really take your metatarsals for granted until you fuck one up and find yourself hobbling all over the place. By December, I let my sweet tooth rule my world. Rome? I ate. Barcelona? I ate. Paris? I ATE. Athens? I was a motherfucking GLUTTON. Athens does this cool thing, where they give you free drinks at the start of your meal, free dessertS (yes, MULTIPLE DESSERTS! Is it obvious why I fucking love the place now?), and then they also give you a dessert shot of liquor. I mean... FUCK! I ate my motherfucking heart out. DEEP-FRIED FETA CHEESE DRIZZLED WITH HONEY, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! JESUS! Ok, sorry, this subject is just so thrilling for me.
Anyway, yeah, failed with this one.

4. Hey! I got this one! I'm actually pretty good with compliments now! Woo! This brings me back to this recent Euro-trip. I was terrible at realizing when guys were flirting... I'd catch the drift way after leaving them. "Wait... oh! He said that because... OH! I GET IT!"
I had this moment at the Louvre, where I was cutting it close for Mass at Notre Dame (hey, don't judge me. I was in Paris for the Virgin of Guadalupe's day... she's my homegirl), so I NEEDED to leave the museum if I wanted to make it to Mass on time. I saw a dude, probably early 30's, standing near an exit sign. He was a worker, in a nice suit, with a name tag... so I approached him and asked if that was the way out.
He looked me right in the face (Parisian men have a thing for holding eye-contact which make me a little uncomfortable... it's a freakishly long time which they insist on looking you dead on in the face... examining every last detail about it. It's crazy. I bet they can give pretty accurate description to police portrait artists), smiled... said "As-salamu alaykum," then "Bonjour?" then "hello?" then "hola?" and smiled some more. I asked again, this time in French. "But why would you want to leave? Where are you going?" he asked. "I need to get to Notre Dame before 6:30," I said. The guy got closer to me, smiled, then said "Ah, yes, the exit. I can take you to it, though I'd hate to see you leave..."-- still holding eye-contact with me, looking serious. I panicked, my eyes large as hell, eyebrows up in surprise. "Oh my god! Why?! What's wrong?" I said, thinking I was in trouble for... well, I don't know, it was Paris... they do whatever the fuck they want... I could have been in trouble for wearing blue pants with my red sweater, for all I knew.
The guy's semi-smile turned to a disappointed frown, he straightened his blazer, then said "I really shouldn't be doing this, but, I'll take you through this very special exit. Come along, follow me." And ta-da! exit through the shop. "Have a great time at Notre Dame. Au revoir."
I then jetted over to Notre Dame, and it wasn't until I was in the middle of Mass that it dawned on me that the poor guy was doing all he could to flirt... but it was like flirting with a wall.
He was cute... like a younger version of the actor who plays Littlefinger on Game of Thrones (so I have a thing for that little weasel. Again, don't judge me). I'm just too slow at picking up on flirtatious conversation. "He was trying to flirt? WHY?!"
Stories like that peppered my December trip... I'll probably talk about it later, but enough for now. Point is, while I'm SLOW at noticing when a guy wants to flirt with me (well, when he's not as straightforward as the sickos who do shit like physically GRAB me or do that tongue thing when I walk by [the one where they display how talented they are with their tongue action], as though that ever works with anyone who is NOT a nymphomaniac), but I don't get all worked up when they toss me a compliment. I giggle now... like a teenager. Baby steps.

5. Ummm... this I will consider a failure. From around July until now, I have broken out worse than I ever have... not even my teen years were this bad. I blame my diet for the outbreak. I've been pretty lax about my beauty regimen, usually falling asleep with mascara still on my face and that sort of shit. I did buy retinol to prevent/ease wrinkles back in June... but I have yet to use it. I'm a TERRIBLE girl. Fucking TERRIBLE! Oh! Well, it can't be a complete failure-- I DID get a manicure last month before heading out to Athens... that was mighty girly of me (I then proceeded to remove the gel polish with my teeth two weeks later... even after hearing the nail lady lecture me on the proper removal procedure for a good ten minutes. NOT very girly of me. My nails are wrecked).

Good Lord... 2014 was a massive failure.
My bad.
I knew I should have mentioned something about traveling. I had that shit DOWN! Once again I visited a new country/city for like... my fourth year. That was rad as fuck.

I guess I'll go ahead and do some resolutions.
1. DROP THE FUCKING COOKIES, ANoMALIE! I will go back to my strict "clean" eating (I fucking hate that term). I won't be as much of a nazi about it, though. Slap me if I ever try lecturing you on the "evils" of certain foods. You like sugar/salt/tasty shit and you're happy with your image? Well, shit, that's all that matters (well, as long as you're not acquiring diabetes or any of those health problems). And please, for the love of my sanity, don't try bullying me into eating after I tell you No. Bad things happen when people don't respect my "No."
2. I WILL NOT BE A CUNT! This is what? My 20th year saying this?
3. I will take time-outs. I won't try and act like everything is OK, and allow bad shit to accumulate, only for me to have major melt-downs like I tend to do. If something bothers me or upsets me, I won't subject myself to "roughing it." To "power through." I'll straight call a time-out and just... leave. Chill time... I'll have chill time.
4. DON'T TALK SHIT. Walk away, Holmes, walk away.
5. Don't let trolls get the best of me. I learned there are a good few people in my life who actively seek to rile me up. Why they enjoy this is beyond me... makes me sad FOR THEM... because there are much more interesting things out there to do besides upsetting me... but to each their own. I'll do my best not to give them any satisfaction.
6. My most ambitious move EVER: I'll sell one of my works. I don't know what... but it'll be ANYTHING, for WHATEVER price... just not free. I've sold two photographs in the past, but everything else I've given away for free. I won't specify whether it'll be a short story, or a painting, or a photograph... just anything my two hands have created.

Should I add something relating to my sentimental life?
Nah. I've been good neglecting that aspect for the last few years. That shit always ruins my year... so I'm good just completely ignoring that part of a person's life. I don't need it. I don't use it.
Just like spirituality is something unimportant in the lives of many, "love"/"relationships" is a dead, non-existent part in my life. Period. No use acknowledging it.

2015... AAAAAHHHHH! Is this for real?!
Be good. Please.