No longer irrational

I have numerous "irrational" fears, many of which I've talked about here.
I say they're "irrational" because I'm sure many people will think I'm dumb for the things I fear... but in my head, I can totally reason them all out.
Like my fear of knives. It's not... like I run out of a room the moment I see a knife. I mean, I DO cook... especially meat, so I have to mess with them. I don't freak at the sight of knives, or the sight of others using knives as they're intended. I only freak out the moment I see someone "playing" near knives. My brain immediately screams "HEY! You can seriously hurt yourselves or others if you fuck around with those things! Get away from the knives!"
Very rational.

Then there's my fear which tends to baffle others: balloons.
Again, I don't piss my pants at the sight of balloons, I don't cry or any of that sort of shit either. I just get very uncomfortable and irritated. I hate the sound they make when they're popped, and when kids play with them, I think of them biting the balloon and getting some of the latex stuck in their throats.
Who knows, maybe in a past life I died after munching on a balloon or some shit. Point is, I DON'T like balloons, and whenever I'm near them, I tense the fuck up.

Then comes the fear I always thought of as irrational, but sadly, is now plausible.
My social anxiety has a lot to do with the fear. Whenever I'm in a crowded room, or... a large room, the first thing I do is look for my nearest exit.
Ever since I was about... maybe five, I always wondered what I'd do if some crazy shit happened whenever I'd be in a large group of people. I swear. I have no clue where this stems from, but that's how I've been since childhood.
The thought always crosses my mind, whether I'm at church, at a basketball game, a concert, a movie.
I always think "Dude, if some fucking crazy person just walked in here and started shooting at people... would I duck for cover... or would I run?" and so I sit there and analyze this sort of shit.
I blame the ghetto.
I seriously do this at the movies all the time. The thought has crossed my mind and all I really think is "Fuck, that would suck. It'd be like shooting fish in a barrel..."
Imagine my horror after seeing the mayhem that took place last night in Colorado.
My worst fucking nightmare come true.

Not gonne lie: I got teary-eyed as I read the reports and watched the footage. So fucked up, everything that happened... and HOW it happened.
Total bummer.

The thing that pisses me off is the fucking shooter.
Way to make us naturally quiet/timid people look like fucking psychopaths.

And the whole med school related stress thing... ahhhhhh!
See, the moment I realized the med school path was making me more miserable than happy was the moment I dropped that shit (well, I went on for two more years, but only because I didn't want to leave shit unfinished... because I'm stubborn).
Once the pain became too much to bear... and I could no longer control my body from convulsing each time I had a stressful exam approaching, I dropped that shit... I didn't go out on some fucking rampage against innocent people. What fault did they have? Sure, I didn't like the majority of my clique-y peers, but instead of taking it out on them, I decided to just get away from them for good. Just separate myself from the shit that makes me miserable. Cut your losses and move the fuck on.

Christ.
Well, there goes my chance at becoming any more likable. People are probably going to fear me/suspect of me now... and it's not like I'll be able to blame them.

Goddamn psychopaths... I wish they'd be a little more obnoxiously loud, and not brooding quiet types.

Sentada

This is why I hate being angry at people for too long. This story has been killing me for the last week, it wasn't until today that I finally got cleared to talk about it. Here I go:

While at Chicago, I spent the majority of the time there pissed at my godson's mom, i.e. my first cousin (I'll refer to her as NC) I see as an aunt or older sister.
Many of her choices aggravated me (like her love for falcon talons for fake nails. Motherfucking atrocious), and her conversation wouldn't help (she's not the sharpest tool in the shed, so to speak).
On our last day in town, I didn't even want to say goodbye to her because she had decided to spend the entire morning and afternoon at the mall. I gave her a weak hug before getting in the car to go off to the airport, and once in the car, I told my sister "Well, at least she made it easy for me not to miss her ass. I'm not going to be seeing that idiot in a long minute."

Well... since we're talking about me, it's obvious Life was going to be like "Oh, really, AnoMALIE? You wanna be resentful? Well, check this out, bitch."

Hmm... I don't know how to start this part. It's serious. And frightening. I still haven't fully wrapped my head around it.
So... let me mention how we couldn't get a hold of them (NC and her mom--my aunt) when we called Mexico to see how their bus trip from Chicago to DGO went. This was odd, since we're always one of the first to hear from them.
They were supposed to arrive on Tuesday the 5th of this month, but we still hadn't heard from either one. However, that Friday, NC's mother-in-law called my cell. This lady is also MGH's grandma (I know, it's a weird web. Totally typical of Mexicans, sorry), so I didn't think it was too weird (she's my number one fan and calls me on occasion to chat).
However, she had a weird message for me. She asked me if we had been in the bay sometime that week. I said no, and thought nothing of it. She then goes
That's what I thought... but when I came home today, this is the message that was on my answering machine.
She played the message.
*MGH'sGrandma*, it's *MyMom*, I'm calling because I'm going to drop by.
Jesus Christ... that's my mom!
Isn't that weird? I came home and that was the only new message.

My mom doesn't have MGH'sGrandma's number, she has never called her house.
But there was her voice, loud and clear, on the answering machine.
She sounded upset... kind of like how she sounded when she called to tell us her dad had died back in 2007.
I laughed, and asked her if she wanted to talk to my mom and see what was up. Once mom heard the message, she freaked out. Then she became quiet... and left the room, only answering monosyllabically to MGH'sGrandma.
What was going on? No idea how the message got on the answering machine. Mom never called, but it was, indeed her voice. This led to MGH'sGrandma to tell Mom of a creepy coincidence that was currently going on. Turns out two men on the bus had attempted to kidnap NC and my aunt.
MGH'sGrandma thought Mom had called to talk about that. She hadn't, but thanks for the information?

Ok, so there ends that creepy story. The entire week was spent trying to figure out what had gone wrong... why these people had tried to kidnap NC. We theorized that these men must have known who she was, and hence, tried to carry out some sort of vendetta against her (see, her husband used to be... his brother was at one point the most powerful... "leader").

Well, we finally got a hold of both my aunt and NC today, and they both told us what occurred.
It made my blood run cold.
Turns out NC was being her usual, not-so-bright self when she walked in the bus. She looked around, trying to see if she recognized anyone. She says she didn't, so she just went to take her seat.
It was then when she noticed the guys sitting in front of her say " Do you think she recognized you?" But she thought nothing of it.
A little further into the ride, in the middle of her praying (she prays A LOT. She always has a rosary in her hand... and I mean, I've accused her on multiple occasions of being fanatical) she began to hear what was really going on... those two men were planning her death.
Look, we'll get them off at (tiny town where the bus makes a stop that is about four hours away from Hometown. It's up in the mountains, highly inaccessible for the most part). We'll get those six down.
But the Mom will start screaming and call too much attention.
We'll get her off too. We won't kill her, though. We'll just take away all of her belonging and abandon her and that other older lady and drive away. We'll kill the first five and those old hags will just be abandoned in the middle of nowhere. 
NC says they were picking people at random, except for her.
That bitch has been praying the entire ride. Should we make her kneel, like the rest of them, when we kill her?
No. She's going to die sitting down.

I can only imagine the anguish she was in, listening to these beasts whisper.
The malice in these people... astonishes me. How can someone "human" think like this? Go about committing shit like this out of the fucking blue, just because they can? It sickens me.

Anyway, she had to sit there... and listen some more. They were constantly on their cell phones, and when they reached Dallas, two other couples joined the ride (the two original men had entered the bus with their wives). They were a total of eight accomplices... on a full bus... a total of 56 people.

Once they reached the stop (on Mexico's side) where they were supposed to carry out the plan, NC forced my aunt to stay on the bus.
If you want to live, you're going to stay on this fucking bus. Piss your pants if you must.
My aunt was confused, but she listened to NC.
Only NC, my aunt, and an old man sitting in front of the bad guys stayed on the bus. The old man was quivering... he too had been listening to the conversations these men were having.

Everyone boarded the bus and they continued on their way.
Suddenly, about ten minutes later, they were stopped. A random military checkpoint blocked their way.
The bus driver allowed the people to get off the bus, and this is when NC made her move.
NC went to the bathroom, and went in a stall with my aunt. She told her what was going on.
They're going to kill me. Now, you're going to have to be brave, Mom... we're going to have to walk as inconspicuously as possible towards the soldiers. If these guys are going to kill me, I'd rather have it happen to me out in the open, as I try to make my way to safety... and not in some abandoned house where they said they keep all the victims sequestered.
And so, holding hands, they walked toward the soldiers without looking towards the bus.
NC told the soldiers what was going on.
The soldiers made all the men get off the bus (since apparently women are off-limits... ?!?!!!) and searched them. None had weapons (bad guys gave the guns to their girls, obviously), soldiers had no other choice but to allow them back on the bus.
The only person they suspected was the poor old man who sat there quivering... poor man.
NC and my aunt refused to get back on the bus, and the soldiers kept them safe. They made up some lie about my aunt feeling deathly ill and not being able to travel any further.
The bus left. NC finally broke down into uncontrollable sobs and bewildered screams.

NC and my aunt were then escorted all the way home (four hours after being left by the bus) by a soldier dressed as a civilian. On their way home, they heard a breaking news story: the bus heading to Hometown had been held up. Two were dead, two were missing.

... now... I... don't know what to say.
I don't like action flicks... and to think it can happen in real life... ??? I never thought my family would ever have to experience anything like that. It's not fun, or funny... or entertaining.
I do know first-hand how horrible the conditions are in Mexico, I mean, I did see a dead man in the middle of the road this summer as I sat in the front of the bus.
I've had an AK47 pointed at my face.
I've seen Zetas patrol the streets of my once peaceful town.
I know guys involved in the drug war... but... I just... this is all so senseless. And think such evil exists... baffles me... it scares me... like NOTHING else has EVER done.

I always laughed at NC for all the praying she does. When we were in Chicago, I criticized her for kneeling so much to the point where she now has an extreme case or arthritis on her knees... we all laughed at her for it.
This bitch is CRAZY! Quit being SO fanatical! Where does all this praying get you?
To think someone would be so perverse to think... to kill her depriving her of... kneeling? Like... someone that evil really exists?

Before hanging up, she said one last thing:
Tia, when I sat there on the bus... trying to stay cool... to stay calm... thinking I was going to die... all I could think was... I really love you guys. I love my kids. I love my parents. I love my family. I really love you... I really love AnoMALIE and LittleSister. I just... I wanted one more chance to hug my kids... to hug you guys. I... really love you guys.

Jesus Christ.
I'm at a loss for words.
So much guilt. So much fear. So much awe.
No se que decir... solo... Dios es grande.

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.

Butterflies, my ass!!

With my trip a little over 24 hours away, I find myself:

-Constantly thinking twice about my duffle bag selection (white Burberry duffle bag). Why? Because Ryan was kind enough to introduce me to the term "Chav" (and "Chavette"). Now I constantly wonder... "Will this make me appear too Chavvy when I'm off running around in London? I don't want to befriend Chavs... or be mistaken for one..." Thanks Ryan... thank you very much.

- Worrying about getting question about the copious amounts of junk food in my luggage (You guys, I kid you not, I have about 10 pounds worth.... it makes me think of all those fat camp episodes/movies... and how there's that one little bastard who takes mounds of junk food to sell to the other fat kids... it's so annoying! I feel like damn Cartman right now...)

- Worried about getting mugged by Gypsy kids... I hear they're a major pest.

- paranoid over my recently outted gum that I have stashed in my carry-on, that I also plan on offering to people in case of bad breath (I'm joking).

- worried about dying...

Yeah...
OK...
I should be excited, right?

Then why the fuck am I so... nervous right now?
I'm such a fucking baby.

This just in...

I DON'T WANT TO GROW UP
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(And handing me giant chocolate coins will only strengthen my resistance...)

Uneasy

This makes me uneasy:
Notice they neglect to mention whether or not the pepperoni is "real."
Yeah...
I love those tiny pepperoni cubes...
It's the only way I'll eat pepperoni.
How disappointing.

You know what else makes me uneasy?
I'm turning 23 in exactly one month.
Oi... I'm old....
:(

I need my Mommy.

Shit.
I didn't know the extent to which 1408 freaked me out until this morning.

Apparently it reached the level of "freaked the fuck out" because last night I had horrible nightmares that looked very similar to what went on in that movie (just add my dead grandpa crying my name out in pain and there you go). That's the first time I experience something like that since... Chucky (you know, where the kid's running around in the toy factory. That shit freaked me out to no end when I was a kid. I guarantee you will never get me to go inside any factory... ever).

Yeah... next time it's I Love My Sister Day, I'll make sure to force Little Sister to watch a "sweet" movie.
(No, I won't. I'm always on the look out for truly creepy movies. Glad I found one that messed enough with my head to make me cry in my sleep. Yessss!)

Anyway, I told Mom about the nightmare... bummed her out.
So what did I do to cheer her up?
Well, she has a thing for the circus. Something about it reminds her of her childhood.
Dad shares this love for the circus (well, he did grow up in the same town as Mom).
I, on the other hand, kind of sort of hate it. Zoos and circuses make me sad (say what you will, but those caged animals don't look like they're having the time of their lives), but since both parents love this thing, I found them some tickets for the circus.

This cheered Mom up... a lot, actually.
If she wouldn't have been so glad, I never would have let this escape from my mouth right as Mom and Dad were getting out the door:

Mom: Ok, Mija, we're leaving to the circus!
Me: Alright Mommy, I hope they don't keep you!

Sure, it made Mom swat at me... but there's no way I would have let an opportunity like that slip (unless, of course, she was pissed and anything with the possibility of becoming a projectile were in sight).

Come one, come all! It's the incredibly small woman, with super-human strength, and the ability to make her daughter piss her pants with just one glare!

Damn, dude, I'd definitely have to charge people to see that.

Dolls and Dummies, they're all crummy.

Man, I give up on horror movies. I was really looking forward to Dead Silence. It had all the elements needed to freak me out for at least a week:
1) A ventriloquist dummy that comes to life (that Goosebumps book, Night of the Living Dummy, fucked me up pretty good back in 5th grade).
2) Bitter, (dead) old ladies seeking revenge on an entire town.

Last time I checked out a scary movie at a theater (not counting Zodiac because I was too mesmerized by Jake Gyllenhaal to pay attention to the scary stuff) was back in 2005 for Saw II. I didn't have much of a problem with that movie, I was entertained, but never scared. Prior to that, the scary movie was Darkness Falls in 2003... that one was horrible. I found myself laughing out loud for various parts of the movie as couples would only look up at me like "WTF is her problem?"

I was a little apprehensive about going to the movie because I knew that I'd come out either very disappointed or very paranoid. I was shooting for the latter (although I have friends that would attest to me already being sufficiently paranoid). I thought, since I'm a sucker for the Saw movies (they don't scare me... they just make me "Ah! That must suck," all the time) and the people making this Silence movie are the same ones, that I'd love the thing... and maybe.... possibly... be scared at some point.

Sadly, it didn't deliver. I must say there was only one part of the movie where I had to cover my mouth because of a "No, you dumb ass!" moment, and another where I was shaking my head "Don't do it, man." Other than that, I was either laughing or rolling my eyes. Still, it wasn't BAD like Darkness Falls, so I'm not complaining too much (the ending was ok, I suppose).

If they wanted to know scary, they should have gone to my mom's cousin's house in California the day of her funeral. Now that was scary.
Dolls to my left and right.Dolls on the floor next to the bed.
Dolls when I walked out of the room and headed towards the bathroom.

That was the deceased lady's room... which I was "lucky" enough to sleep in all alone. The things I saw and heard that night still send chills down my spine.

Learn from that, "professionals!" (I kid, I kid. I figure I'm just not a chick meant to watch "scary" flicks because I overanalyze... unless they're dealing with the end of the world. Those manage to scare me to the point where I become unbelievably irrational. Too bad they don't make too many movies about that).