TJ

I always complain about being the only D-Family member to NOT have met a celebrity.
Each time I'm showing the city to an out-of-towner, one of his/her first questions is always "What celebrities have you met."
None, man!!

Well, today I had the opportunity to meet a celebrity.
Personally, I don't think he's THAT much of a star, he's just the sweet/badass host of the Challenge shows on MTV. I'm talking about TJ Lavin.

I was doing my usual gym shit, early afternoon. It's my long day, where I lift for an hour, then kickbox for another hour, then finish it up with a half hour of plyos.
I'm tired as fuck by the time plyos come around. Needless to say, I'm not the nicest human by then.

The day had been going relatively smoothly, I hadn't even been hostile to anyone, and then it was time for plyos.
I was comfortably minding my own business in my corner, totally set up. The day's exercises this time around involved setting up a bench, crotch high, so I could proceed to repeatedly jump over it. Now, I'm clumsy as fuck... and jumping isn't my thing, since I've had various accidents of the painful kind when it comes to tripping and eating shit. Being required to do this exercise managed to aggravate me.
I had to do eight sets of the jumping.
As I was on set three, I noticed a chick hustle into the room, and set her shit up... as did her boyfriend.
As they hesitated to pick a spot (this is in a giant room, where there's only five other chicks doing this shit), they made me nervous, because they were standing directly behind me.
I'm like a horse: DON'T STAND BEHIND ME!
I was scared that maybe I'd end up kicking these two people... or worse, that I'd end up tripping on them and hurting myself.
So I stopped, extremely irritated, scoffed, and conveyed my feeling with my body language.
ARE YOU FUCKING GOING TO MOVE OR WHAT?!
The couple decided to set up shop to my right. The dude right next to me.

So the half hour goes by, and I'm calm by the end... because I notice the dude is being extremely nice to everyone. He's very courteous and just... kind. He had won us all over.
The entire time, I had not looked at this guy's face... since I tend to do that with people.
Once the plyos were over, and he walked over to the trainer to thank her for her time, I finally looked at him.
It was TJ.
FUCK. Me.
He then smiled at me, and held the door for me as I walked out.
The whole time, all I wanted to do was bang my head against the concrete wall.

Luckily, I apologized (via twitter... ha), and he forgave (thanks to Mooney, via twitter again).

I'm such an idiot asshole.

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)

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.

Starstruck mom

My mom met Kevin from the Backstreet Boys while she was in Cancun this past week.

She told me this when I picked her up at the airport at 8 PM... and I still can't stop laughing.

Mexicans rock his world too!

Into my 5th hour of studying Molecular Biology this afternoon, I overheard Little Sister talking to her... best friend? ex-best-friend-who-is-now-forgiven?... let's just call her the buddy I so lovingly ::scoff:: call "Twiggy."

LS: Omg... really??
(silence)
LS: So who was there?
(silence)
LS: That is so cool... girl, that is so cool. I'm jealous.

Little Sister did not sound so "jealous" to me.
When she hung up the phone, I asked what was going on.

LS: Ehh... well, Twiggy was saying how David Beckham was at the Chipotle across school like two hours ago.
Me: ?!?!?!?
LS: Yeah... some dude... I can't remember his name... he's the president of something at school... he was interviewing him or some shit.
Me: ?!?!?!?

Why the fuck am I never around when something so indescribably awesome happens around campus?
I'm there when the AC decides it wants to go on strike... or when there's been an outbreak of fruitflies in the bio building (those little guys know how to go up nostrils and eyes like nobody's business)... or when ants decide they want to take up residence on my favorite wall/sitting area... but I'm never there when someone gets runover at "suicide crosswalk" or when some soccer star is in a building that sells (faaaake!! Ok, maybe not their barbacoa... mmm) Mexican food... I know how to make Mexican food!

At least it wasn't Cristiano Ronaldo.

God... how I needed this break.
I was seeing way too much shit an associating it all with Molecular concepts.
You know that AOL logo that appears right before you're going to get connected? Ok, maybe you don't since I'm probably one of the only fucking losers left in the universe that still uses dial-up (I'm praying to God that soon we'll get cable in this fucking cave we call a home).
Well, it has this picture of three little dudes all over each other waving at you like "come right in, buddy!" and as I was staring at them eagerly waiting to get connected and read my spam, I thought "Why the hell has AOL decided to use TFIID,A,B as a graphic?"

Yes... I needed this break.

But all good things must come to an end... so now I must go back to drinking my Redbull and talking/screaming to myself and drawing and re-writing bullshit notes on a subject I will no longer use in my real life come 8PM, December 12th, 2007.

Ta-ta (boxxxxx!)!
(see, this bullshit consumes my everyday life! G-damn you, biology!)

Stupid Star Studded Event.

So all this All-Star Game hype is getting to me.
It's quite frustrating. I can't travel from point A to point B in peace. I always have to bump into giant traffic full of assholes who forcefully cut in while giving me the finger, or idiots that block the damn intersection with their gas guzzling SUVs.
I hate tourists... especially the rude ones.
My little sister's enjoying it though. She's told my mom that she's "working overtime" at the airport these passed two days. She has actually been hanging out with the eternally annoying Twiggy and some other chick that isn't that much of a bright bulb. They're going to "lounges" and the mall in hopes of scoping out the celebrities or even the really hot tourists.
Yesterday, my little sister got checked out by this one Mexican celebrity while at some lounge at Caesar's. He came up to her, but didn't say a word. Neither did my sister.
See, she may be a tiny bit of a liar, but a hoe she is not. I suppose that's reassuring... it'd be better if she wouldn't have to lie all the time though.
She saw some basketball players, and missed out on seeing Michael Jordan by 5 minutes. I told her if I would have been her, I would have been banging my head on the table until passing out. Missing out on MJ would piss me off like a mother.
I've never met a celebrity, but knowing that no one I know has bumped into Michael Jordan makes me feel a little better.

Also... we have new neighbors, I don't know if it's just for the weekend or what, but they bought the house that used to belong to a very spoiled rich girl. Who are the new inhabitants? Mac Dre's crew. No lie.
There are about 7 SUVs with the Mac Dre label on them, around 3 unmarked cars, and one giant tour bus all parked in the huge front yard.
They're not making much of a ruckus as we first suspected they would (I mean, they did start the whole hyphy movement. Which reminds me, I really giggle with that name. Why the hell would you name something after a part of a fungus?). They're quite peacefull and low key (regardless of what that giant entourage of cars and huge tour bus may say in their front yard).
And still, I have yet to actually see these celebrities (I probably have, I just don't recognize them because I haven't seen MTV since I was 14 in 1999).