Tumblin' Dice

Since I was such a fucking ray of sunshine in my last post, AND I'm missing a post thanks to yesterday's technical difficulties (and also because it goes along with today's date, Friday the 13th. OoOooO!), I'll add another short entry:

My phone isn't too fancy.
Yes, I can get on-line and comment on people's FB pages, but I can't upload photos or watch videos.
I get notifications and all that junk, too.
But the only things it's really good for is Tweeting (and boy, do I abuse the privilege).
I can get apps... but it costs me a pretty penny.
I can get games... but that costs me an even more ridiculous amount of pennies (obviously my feelings towards this is "Fuck you, I ain't getting any games then, assholes! I'll just... play catch with my fucking phone whenever conversations suck or some other awkward situation arises").

My phone DID come with one game.
No, not solitaire, or other form of card game.
No, not some sort of "Bounce Out"-styled game.
Nope... not even a fucking updated version of "snake."
My phone came with a game called "Tumbling Dice."
What's that? Two 3D dice I can make tumble around--as if they're trapped in my phone-- and watch as they come to a stop.

Rafa: What the hell is this? Some App for an impromptu game of Craps?
Me: I don't know... how the hell do you play Craps?

Rafa tried showing me how to play Craps, but my attention span sucks... especially when a boring ass game that only crack addicts play in the street corners of Detroit is involved (yeah, too much Chappelle's Show).
I've been playing a different game with it which, if you ask me, is akin to a bastard Ouija Board... ok, more like the Magic 8 Ball.
Whenever I'm bored, I'll bust out my phone and I'll ask yes or no questions. If the final number is six or less, the answer is "no." The closer the number is to two, the bigger "HELL NO!" that it is.
Numbers seven to twelve mean "yes." Twelve is "YES, it's fucking OBVIOUS! Why'd you even ask that stupid question?" while seven is a "Meh... I guess you could consider it a 'yes'" (in my head, my possessions are always mean to me).
The reason I associate it with a ouija board instead of a regular M8B, is because of the creepy freakin' nature of the responses.
The phone's like Lassie... you know, that whole "What is it girl? Timmy? Timmy's stuck in the well? TIMMY'S STUCK IN THE WELL?!" thing. It eggs me on to ask more elaborate questions.

The answers it has given me have been... about 98 percent correct.
I'll start off with lame questions... then it'll get all intense. If I then ask a question that concerns the future... I get freaked out, 'cause I don't want that shit to happen.
Gah! Imbecile! Why'd you even ask that if you didn't want to hear the answer? The phone has spoken. It's final. Resistance is futile!

Anyway, I hadn't played that game in over six months... no, more. I last played it in Chicago, where everything the phone responded came out to be true.

So I put that power away... until today.
This time around, I started with asking questions concerning the past. It asserted every time.
I then proceeded to ask questions about the future... and I didn't like most of the answers. I asked the questions that bugged me the most a couple of times, at random times, and I'd get the same response (of course, varying in degree... except for two questions, those came out with the same intensity... which made me stop playing, because I'm a chicken).

Point of this post? To say I have a creepy-ass application that must be possessed or something.
AT&T... is this how you keep people on your network? Black magic?
I'm getting a new phone as soon as October rolls around... and I'm definitely leaving that bastard app alone until then (I can't erase it off my phone. WHAT KIND OF JOKE IS THIS?!).

The ALMOST-excommunication of AnoMALIE

Goodness, it had been a while I didn't hang out with my Dad's side of the family.
Yesterday I realized why:
No other large group of people ignores me so well.

Shit… not even when I'm at a concert do I get ignored by masses of people like I do when I make the huge mistake of attending a Dos Santos* family gathering.

Maybe the fact that I was already upset by the time I reached the party had a lot to do with it.
This is why:

I thought that maybe after getting church over with by going to Saturday evening's mass, I'd be able to enjoy my cousin's twentieth birthday party a lot better... instead of having to leave early because I'd have to get up early Sunday morning for church.

I asked Dad to give me a lift to church, and told him that if he did that, I'd let him take my car to the party as a thank you.
Dad's more anal about being on time to things than I am, so he dropped me off at church at 6:20 PM.
Mass begins at 7 PM.

I had 40 minutes to kill… so I went inside the church, took a seat, and began to check my e-mail on my phone.
There were maybe, at most, fifteen other people in the building (the lights weren't even turned on in there!)… when this jackass (who I could tell was part of the orderlies because of the stupid little blue suit and tie he was wearing) approached me from behind.
I moved my legs to the right, since I was sitting at the left-most part of the bench and I thought he was trying to come in through my side to take a seat.
Next thing I know, the bitch gets in my face and says:

You can't talk in here.
Me: I'm talking? (I always knew I secretly suffered from Tourette's Syndrome!)
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: No cell phone use is allowed in here.
(points at my phone while looking me menacingly, dead in the eye)
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: Turn. That. Off.
(begins to walk away)
Me: But mass hasn't even started yet!

The idiot leaves out the front doors like he owns the place.

The bastard was probably five foot three (and he was wearing so much cologne that I even "ate" some when I spoke to him. Fucking gross)… yet here he was getting in my face while I sat quietly on the church's shoddy bench reading my e-mail… trying to kill 40 freaking minutes before mass. I was being silent the entire time… the bench made more noise than I did… yet this motherfucker had the balls to give me shit (no wonder people are leaving St. Anne in hoards... they have pricks like this motherfucker getting in your face as you sit quietly on a bench checking some e-mail).

So what did I do?
I switched over to the games on my phone and began playing Bounce Out (but I still kept my phone on silent).

Fuck you, asshole, if you think you're going to boss me around and chastise me like I'm some fucking little child. Bitch, I have more seniority in this parish than your dumb ass does. Fuck you, you little trick. This is what I think about you bossing me around, motherfucker.

It was 6:30 when the asshole comes again, and this time he raises his voice at me.

Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: I told you to turn that off!
Me: (Biiiiiiiiiiiiitch! What the fuck is your problem?!) Am I bothering anyone?
(I look around and see the four people sitting in other benches far, far away from me)
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: You can't talk to people while you're in here.
Me: I'm talking to people?? Has mass started?
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: What?
Me: Has mass even started?
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: No, but this is the house of the lord! You need to respect it!
Me: (moron, is this how you treat girls? Maybe that's why you're fucking 40 and still single, you fucking plug of a man) I know that… I'm a catechism teacher. I'm not disrespecting anything!
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: Turn. That. Off.
(He reaches for my phone)
Me: ( Oh helllllllllllllll no, bitch! Touch my phone and I'll rip your balls off right here, right now!) Am I making any noise? Am I interfering with anyone's meditation? AM I MAKING ANY NOISE?!
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: What are you doing???
(He starts covering the screen on my phone)
Me: Passing the time! It's 6:30, I'm alone, and this place is empty! It's still dark in here for crying out loud!
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: If you think it's so necessary to do that, take it outside!
(He grabs my elbow and pulls. I pull back my elbow as hard as possible--boy, did I thank Body Pump for this-- and I glare at him while holding back the urge to spit in his face like a camel. People are now staring at us... some still kneeling with rosaries in their hand, but none come to my aid)
Me: (Are you kicking me out?! Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck. You!) No! It's cold outside, and I want to sit Right. Here.
Jackassmidgetmotherfucker: Turn. That. Off!!
(He sort of smirks... which kind of irks me... Why do you smirk in the middle of an argument when a chick almost twice your size is ready to wring your neck?)
Me: I’LL DO THAT WHEN I WANT TO!
(I glare until he looks away. I then go back to playing the game on my phone)

At this point, my eyes are watery and my voice is shaking because I'm so livid (come on now, I'm not that much of a badass. I do get pretty upset when I argue with people. I'm a Pisces, I cry!).
He once again makes a grab for my phone, I pull it away, glare at him again (did this guy just want to make eye contact with me?), and scream "Later!"

I was throwing a bona fide tantrum... but I was also kind of fearing for my safety.
It worked for me though, because the asshole walked away… smiling.

The whole time I was wondering if the shit was a joke… or if he though this was a great way to pick up chicks… because he made this attack on me as I sat alone on my bench with the nearest person to me being three benches away!
No way would he have done this to me had I been sitting with at least one other person near me.
Anyway… this little exchange had me furious throughout mass. Various times I found myself biting my bottom lip because it'd quiver each time I thought about this asshole screaming at me (but also I'd get all sentimental thinking about how the other jerks in church didn't do shit when they saw this jackass trying to boss me around. One lady in particular made me sad, because she knows me, yet she sat there and just watched as this bitch screamed at me).

I hate getting scolded, and especially when it's unwarranted.
I'm twenty-two freaking years old. 22!! Why are people still screaming at me like I'm 3? What gives anyone the right to scream at another person as if they're the damn rulers of the universe?

So this had me angry for the rest of the day.
I told Mom the story. She said:

You and your sister have a vocabulary... it sends chills down people's spine, it's so scary! You just look like a trouble maker…

And here I thought I always looked like a scared idiot.

I ask myself:
Why did he pick on me?
Was it my hotpink, kick ass, nailpolish?
Was it my low-cut shirt (don't stare, the Virgin of Guadalupe will not be too happy)?
Was it my magnificent pair of earrings?
Yes... had to be the earrings.

Anyway, I'll just end this by saying the bastard better watch his back next time he sees me... boy, does he have a nasty lecture/punch to the face pending.



*Obviously not my real last name.

However will I slouch?

This damned injury is still there... making it difficult for me to sit. By difficult, I mean I can't slouch as usual. I must keep an upright position and walk like a stuffy jerk. Good for my posture, not my "cool" status.

Somehow this weekend has spiraled into a crappy one. I thought it'd be a good weekend... packed with fun studying. By fun I mean "useful" and "any" studying.
Instead, by body's had none of that. I've sat at home, gotten my butt massaged, played some dumb game on my cell phone (Chainz in case anyone was wondering... level 27), and gotten hot towel treatments on my lower back... with the occasional burn on the ass (how Bam endured all that branding on his ass for Jackass I haven't a clue).
I also received some "bad" news from my folks. I feel uncomfortable disclosing it... but I'll just leave it at the news being of a somewhat frivolous nature, but still capable of bumming us all out. Stupid city of Las Vegas... and Real Estate agents.

Then came the conversation from hell with an aunt. She made the huge mistake of asking me what I was planning on doing with my Biology degree.
What can you do with that?
I sat in silence for a couple of seconds... trying to come up with the correct terms in Spanish to explain it all. After sitting in silence for a while (not being able to solve the really difficult cell phone game I was playing at the time added to this long pause), and having my 19-year-old cousin get away from her dish washing duty to chime in with a:
Yeah, what are you gonna do?
I shrugged my shoulders and said:
I don't know.
My aunt then added:
Well, I mean, besides teaching, what can you do?
I love this lady, she's great, but when you get into school issues with me, I tend to become rude and bitchy.
I'd never be a teacher. I hate kids, I have no patience with them, and they drive me insane. School drives me insane. I'm dying for it to be over.
Well then, what can you do with a Biology degree?
(Become a circus clown in Colombia that gets shot and killed by a rival gang, then have my death reported on sensationalized Spanish new shows like Primer Impacto... I DON'T KNOW!)
I can...
(Shit... what's the word for research?)
go to medical school-- but I don't want to do that anymore-- become a teacher like you said, I can... I don't know. There's lots of things I can do. I just want to get out right now and then figure it out. I don't know.
(I can be a lame-o who writes Bio textbooks with typos every other word. I can become a "flavorologist" in the Greater Manchester area in England. I can be at the beck and call of someone smarter than me who's doing research on desert tortoises. I can recite to you the different steps involved in the Calvin Cycle... WITH structures. I can travel with the National Geographic channel and help deliver bottled water to the smart geologists. I can do a lot of things, damn it! How do I say it in Spanish! I can help develop dish-washing soap for Palmolive, for Pete's sake!)
My aunt looked at me... my cousin "eh"ed (and continued washing the dishes), and I rolled my eyes and went back to the difficult picture game on my cell phone.
While rolling my eyes at Mom merits a slap on the shoulder from her, I got nothing for doing it to my lovely aunt... just the horrible guilt of knowing I pulled a move "tweens" are best known for.

So yeah... aside from the nice game on my cell phone... I think this blog is what keeps me from bursting out into tears while screaming "My life sucks right now!"
I blame my upcoming twenty-second birthday on the emotional wreckage I am right now.