Bull fight

Listening to both sides of a story is a fucking headache.
I understand when someone chooses to be a judge or whatever the fuck... but dragging me into a heated argument? No, bro, I'm too busy over here trying to recover from the worst case of depression I've experienced in over ten years to be concerned with your fucking petty argument.

Back in August of '08 I documented the worst argument in my history. The bomb that exploded a huge part of my childhood took place that year. This was the fucking argument that cause the irreparable damage to my brother's relationship with our childhood best friend he was willing to one day make his wife.
This argument made me even less trusting of others, and much less inclined to befriend females... it bumped me to probably 85% anti-female.

The two girls, who are cousins (with one another, no relation to me), responsible for causing the drama and spreading the hateful MISinformation are at one another's throat now.
The moment I found out things were getting rocky between the two, I made it clear I lamented their falling out, but refused to take a part. Shit, I did everything in my power to stay AWAY from both girls, even avoiding their texts and calls.
But of course, they both have found a way to get a hold of me... and listening to their stories makes me both scoff and... feel shitty.
The way one girl words her shit to me varies greatly with the way the other one does. Of course, in both sides, the girl talking to me is the innocent dove who is being mistreated.
Do I think one party is guiltier than the other? Nope. They both have done things that are shitty and not very well played. They have both said some nasty shit about the other (though one did cross a line I never would have). They both have made vary valid claims against the other. They both are arguing about THE STUPIDEST SHIT.

"I KNEW she did this sort of shit... I just never thought she'd do this... to ME."
"They always told me to watch myself with her!"
"They always told me not to trust her!"
"She has always been so fake!"
They've both uttered similar sentences, and each time I sit quietly on the other side of the phone in complete silence, shaking my head in amazement.
These two girls banded together one summer and used similar tactics to destroy a lifelong friendship of mine which to this day we (me sister and me) struggle to maintain cordial. These girls knew my lifelong friends for a month, and found it acceptable to inject their venom to wreck everything.
And now these same girls are using their tactics against one another.
Fucking astonishing.
It's like watching two bulls go at one another... and you're trying your best to find some sort of cover and not get trampled, shooing them away with a ten foot pole when one starts creeping closer to you. It's not that you went LOOKING for the bull fight... it just somehow found a way to your front door.
Nah, Holmes, you stay the fuck over there! FUCK! Is this contagious?!
And yes, that behavior is contagious... especially when it has been used against you.

So, I'm sitting here struggling to find purpose in living... and simultaneously trying to dodge this giant snowball headed in my direction.
Good shit.

Oh hell no

I am going to BEAT A BITCH'S FACE IN.

FUCK!

And now she's sleeping in the living room, not speaking to any of us.

I am fucking FURIOUS.

GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! COME ON!

This behavior drives me motherfucking INSANE.
It may work in YOUR fucking house, but not here.
We don't deal with that behavior.
CALM YOUR FUCKING TITS.

YOU'RE GETTING FED FOR FREE, DRIVEN AROUND TOWN FOR FREE, AND HOUSED FOR FREE
IN ATHENS!

ACT RIGHT, FOR CHRIST'S SAKE!

GOD.DAMN.

Pouting bullshit

Chatty Cathy up in here.

Frustration does that to me.
I have buttons you don't push... someone getting manipulative on me--acting irritated because they're not getting things done their way-- is a button you don't push.

This whole people observing I do, it gets me irritated when I realize I'm in the company of someone who is neither appreciative or... honest. An ingrate.
I am noticing an increase in hostility from my behalf as far as Pacemaker is concerned. I notice I'm getting pretty rude towards her because I'm finally fed up with her behavior-- that constant need of hers to brag, to act like she is SO important. I'm now openly rolling my eyes at her... I no longer give a fuck if she catches me doing it.
"Oh, I'm just ready to hit Champs-Elysees and shop til I drop at the end of the month!"
Shop til you drop? Where? McDonalds? Not even there, fucking shit is expensive as all hell out there.
You've spent FIVE MOTHERFUCKING EUROS OUT HERE! FIVE! FUCKING FIVE MOTHERFUCKING EUROS IN A WEEK!
FIVE. MOTHERFUCKING. EUROS.
She comes to the store with me, and says "Oh, I got it," takes five fucking hours to bust out her goddamn stupid brand-name purse (I don't care about brands. Fucking shit can be a Louis or a fucking Prada... I wouldn't know and more importantly, I WOULDN'T CARE.) until I eventually just pull out my fucking bills out of my ripped up pant pocket, and pay for EVERYTHING.
I comment about staying in the sky lounge for Airfrance in Paris' airport (how I almost missed my flight due to fucking around in there for too long), and of course, she has to comment how she "needs to check it out" when she heads out to Paris after leaving Athens later this month (I saw her itinerary-- she's flying Economy).
... You do know you have to be flying first-class to enter the room, right?

I HATE that shit. I HATE the fronting. HATE IT.
She wants to rub elbows with "rich" people, constantly name drops... but she doesn't pay for shit.
She just sits there, pouting because we don't do what she wants to do.
Homie, I already saw the Acropolis, I drove out to Poseidon's temple... I don't need to see that. Wait for my sister to come to town so you guys can all pool your money for a taxi to go see those sights if that's what you want to do.

I'm here to relax, make my brother's life easier-- 'cause he sure as fuck is not having a good time right now-- not harass him into taking me out after his long day at work.
It's winter... I'm fine just chilling in the city of Athens, seeing sights whenever my brother has time... and chilling at home-- RELAXING. It's why I took the MONTH off. You only have two weeks? Well, then YOU look for tours to fit YOUR schedule. I did my part by convincing my brother to let you stay in his house and eat his food for free for the duration of your trip.

I don't know if this makes sense... or if I'm being irrational... or just highly sensitive.
I just know I am irked out of my mind by someone trying to live beyond her means, putting up the front of being "bougie" and giving me fucking attitude because I'm not catering ENOUGH to her fucking desires.
WHY do you try to make others think you can afford the life of an heiress, when you're just an average person?
Add to that the fact that I see this person constantly reporting back to her siblings and a certain cousin about her stay here... as she fucking pouts, staring at her stupid phone (iphone 6 PLUS, naturally. Of fucking course).... and it all makes me fucking foam at the mouth with rage (dawg, I had legitimate chest pains this morning from the fury I was fighting).
Not happy with your stay? THEN GET THE FUCK OUT AND PAY FOR YOUR MOTHERFUCKING ROOM IN A HOTEL RIGHT UNDER THE MOTHERFUCKING ACROPOLIS AND SHUT THE FUCK UP! Just SHUT. THE FUCK. UP.

I'm here to relax. My life is about RELAXING. That's it. That's fucking IT.
I don't care to impress ANYONE. Not a damn single motherfucking SOUL in this world. Not one. I want to disconnect. Not talk to anyone. Be alone. With my thoughts. Just observing. Just listening. Just... breathing. I don't care to see you pout because things aren't being done your way.
That clashes with your wishes? Well, FUCK, get up and leave. Shit. Go out and put up the front of swimming in money and rubbing elbows with high society... see how long that lasts you, or how much joy you get out of it. It's an insipid, wildly vapid world... this world you aspire to live in. But cool, dude, what the fuck ever. Just quit pissing me off and take that pissy attitude elsewhere.

I hate getting this worked up... it's just so unbelievable to me to come across people who are so demanding and such ingrates. Delusions of grandeur freak me out.
I also grow upset with myself for believing others will have the same value system I do, the same code of conduct... and then seeing that they really don't. "You should have known better, AnoMALIE."

I'm sure I'll feel better once I stop seeing this chick's pout all over my house... or maybe once I sleep the rage off... or maybe once I go eat dinner later tonight.

Bummer I have so many pissy entries so far, I swear this trip had been rad up until like... three days ago. And I'm sure spirits will pickup soon.

Ha-ha! I beat you!

Yesterday at the Quince, I was seated next to my youngest male (first) cousin.
I still remember when he was born, and I especially remember when we went to go visit him for the first time after he and his mom were discharged from the hospital.
This was 1993.
During his baby stage, and toddlerhood, I was his favorite person aside from his mom. I could make that baby laugh with almost anything, and I could also make him stop crying almost immediately.
Then he went to school... and he became withdrawn.
He's very thin, and regardless of what he does, he just can't gain weight. This has made him the target of much bullying and ridicule, even from his own family.
Like many bullied kids, he was forced to gain a personality... a sense of humor.
Hmm... sounds familiar...
My humor comes from my dad. My cousin's humor comes from his dad. Our dads are siblings.
SO, guess who rebuilt their tight bond...

For a good three hours, my 20 year old cousin and I caught up on life... about 15 years of it.
I learned he took French in high school... which made me realize he went to MY high school.
WAIT?! At MY high school?! Since when?! God, I'm a horrible cousin!
I learned he hated high school.
Please tell me you love college...
I learned he loves college, since it's a huge difference from the high school bullshit.

I tried giving him advice. I told him not to be in a rush to get things done, to instead be sure he loves what he is doing. I told him to explore. I told him my biggest regret about college was not traveling... not seeing the world... and majoring in something I did not love.

I loved seeing his little eyes twinkle when I'd say something that surprised him, in a good way. Apparently he thought I was a total shy wallflower with no personality... which is fair enough, since he hardly ever hear me speak after he was about five year old. Can't blame him for suspecting I'm that quiet girl who is only quiet because she can't form any type of opinion.
I felt sad thinking this poor kid knew so very little about me (he actually refuses to get a Facebook. I told him I have crazy respect for those who have cut ties with social networks), and that I knew so little about him... when our relationship started off running, practically from the moment he exited the womb.

There was ONE story which upset me... in the sense that it pissed me off.
He told me about the day our mutual cousin, C, announced her pregnancy back on Christmas last year.
I told him how D and I had to hear the story from my brother, on FB messenger, because D and I were in Mexico for a wedding.
"I heard that my dad was frozen in disbelief... and that the rest of you had no idea what was going on until Vickie (our littlest cousin who is 17) screamed out 'OH MY GOD! YOU'RE PREGNANT!" I said.
"Ha. Oh yeah... she did say that. All I really remember is that I was in a different room from where the action was happening. I was there with my mom and your mom... and I just remember my aunt (my dad's IDIOT youngest sister... the idiot who asked for a house a few weeks ago... A HOUSE!) going up to your mom and saying (while pointing at Mom's face) 'HA-HA! I BEAT YOU AT BEING A GRANDMA!'" he said.
I felt my blood boil.
"Oh yeah! I remember Rafa told me! I didn't know she made it that public, though..." I said.
"Yeah, it was THE FIRST thing out of her mouth. It was... odd," my cousin said that last part while raising his eyebrows and opening his eyes as large as possible.

Our conversation changed to a different topic, but I held on to that anger that I felt brewing inside me.
It ruined my night (well, you know, besides my whole crazy low self-esteem/social anxiety/depression issues. This shit added "rage" to the mix).

The fact that my cousin only remembers my aunt saying this shit to my mother tells me this is something his family must have discussed at his house... and not in a good way. No, I don't think they talked shit about my mom, but quite the contrary... they must have talked about what a crazy idiot sister my dad and his dad must have... to be more concerned about BEATING my mom at something rather than the fact that she was going to BE A FUCKING GRANDMOTHER.
Maaaaaaybe they might have laughed a little.

My mother must have been fuming about the whole issue when it happened.
I brought it up to her today, and she looked... sad. She did not look angry or annoyed... just SAD.
So, I did what I do best: I turn snobby and cunt-astic.
"Next time we see her, I want you to point in her face, laugh, and say 'HA-HA! ALL THREE OF MY CHILDREN ARE COLLEGE GRADUATES!' or 'HA-HA! MY HUSBAND IS NOT AN UNEMPLOYED LAZY ALCOHOLIC!' or 'HA-HA! NONE OF MY CHILDREN ARE DIVORCED!' I give you permission, Mom, I'll back you up. I'm done being nice."
She only smiled.
:(

I hate bitches publicly mocking my momma, making her feel bad. Poor lady.
Cry all the way to the bank, Momma, all the way to the fucking bank.

L'orange

While a couple of weeks ago I had to force myself to take a break from the gym, this week it's not the same story.
Sunday... let's not talk about Sunday, that shit was a mess.
Monday, I forced myself to get off my ass and go to the gym. Once there, a dude in a bright orange shirt set up right next to me, and my hour of weight-lifting was spent fighting back tears. 

Is that you, you diving son of a bitch?!

I came home, showered, and watched the Germany game.
I haven't showered since.
I haven't left the house since.
It's a pathetic sight, really. My hair is in a bun, my left eye is a watery mess (I swear it's some sort of allergy. The pressure in that eye is off, I just know it), not a single ounce of makeup is on my face.
I've also been force-feeding myself. I'm dealing with that thing that happens to me when I'm severely upset-- angry or sad-- where I lose my appetite. I swear my esophagus closes up and any attempt to eat is practically impossible. However, I'm fully aware I MUST eat, so I sit at the kitchen table and stare at my food-- at some point I pick at it enough times to clean the plate.

But I swear it's back to reality tomorrow. I have a nice little story making me laugh, and therefore, forgetting how badly this whole World Cup shit has upset me.
What's the story? I've been invited to the bachelorette party of a girl who legitimately hates me... and this party is a small party of EIGHT (myself included)... where THREE of the attendees dislike me. Is it a set-up? Hell of reminiscent of mean-girl slumber parties where they invite the ONE girl they're going to torment all night... sorry for being paranoid, girl-power chicks, but that shit happens, and it happens often.
Fun, fun, fun.

Mains ripping out Manes

Ahhhh, Valentine's Day aftermath.
I don't know about you guys, but I had a decent day... except that my "aftermath" sucked: woke up at 3:30 AM to vomit my chocolate cake overindulgence. I now can't think of chocolate without feeling my stomach kick the shit out of me... even typing the word produces an involuntary gag reflex.

But enough of that, I'm trying to keep my food in.
I noticed a lot of hate, as expected, but also an unnaturally high number of girls posting "side chick" related shit. Apparently there are a lot of "side chicks" out there, and everyone's a "main bitch."
OK.
My take is this: if you're such a "main" why the fuck are you so concerned about the "sides" and more importantly, why the fuck are you always complaining about your guy and how guys are so fucking useless etc. etc. Wouldn't a dude who considered you his "main" refuse to treat you like shit AS OFTEN as you post all your angry, man-hating rants?

I am no one's "main", (ok! this is a question regarding grammar! You see what I just did there with the comma? I was taught to place the comma INSIDE the parenthesis... yet recently, I've seen people from all walks of academia place it WITHIN the parenthesis... this drives me batshit crazy. I need answers! I haven't been in school in seven years... rules can change in that amount of time, right? I hate this shit) much less their "side" so I don't really mention this or care about it. It's only when I see seven fucking girls on my FB and IG timeline bring up the Main VS Side Chick shit that I'm sort of forced to form an opinion.
My opinion? DUMB. If you suspect your man of having a side chick, dump the fucker. If you suspect you're a side chick, dump the motherfucker. If the guy lacks respect and refuses to make time for you, why the fuck are YOU wasting YOUR time on him? Are you that scared of being alone? Being alone is actually pretty fun... unless you're boring as fuck and can't entertain yourself... which... if you can't entertain yourself, how the fuck can you believe you can entertain others?

Ugh... too much shit talking going on from me, so I think I'll shut up.

In summation:
Don't be a side chick.
Don't settle for being a "main" chick.
You deserve to be THE ONLY chick (unless you're down with swinging or open relationships, then by all means, fuck as many folks as you both agree are cool).

Girls, I swear.

Don't promise

I've always been fearful of catching someone being unfaithful to their spouse.

It has ALWAYS been a fear of mine. I understand that love wanes and all that shit, but once you've been with someone for over two decades... what the fuck possesses you to go "look" elsewhere? You're old now... and this spouse has seen you through thick and thin. He/she was there when you did that very fucking stupid thing with your money... when you did that very fucking stupid thing with your friends... when your family started dying off... when new members started sprouting all over the place... etc.

And above all, you PROMISED you'd make it work. You PROMISED fidelity.

If you didn't want to be faithful, then why the fuck get married? Just live together, where the expectation to stay forever isn't there... where people know that any day, you might not be there, but instead seeking fortune elsewhere.

I feel sick.

Why I should never answer the phone

I'm making my max effort at being pleasant and forgiving.
I'm trying so very hard to NOT talk shit and just get over the drama.
The trashtalking homegirls have really gotten under my skin, but a few weeks ago, I decided to clean the slate. I made the resolution to let it go.
This past weekend, with the death of my uncle, I've spent time with my dad's side of the family... the ladies who are selling those magical pills I was accused of using. After seeing them, I finally understood why so many people have made the assumption that I did the same thing as these ladies.
This has only facilitated my resolution of forgiving and moving the fuck on.

Today, I was quick to answer my phone after seeing it was an unknown number. I thought it was someone asking for a reference, so I didn't think twice about answering.
"Hello! This is *trashtalkingchick*!"
Yeah... it was THE girl. The girl I was getting ready to throw down with this May.
Fuck.... FUCK! What the... fuck!
Me: Hey! How are you?!
And we talked.
She was inviting me to the bachelorette party... since she was put in charge. Of course.
Afterward, she asked me for Mooney's number, which I refused to give out, since I personally loathe people giving away my number so free. I told her I'd let Mooney know, since I see her regularly.
She then grumbled "And Lau... if YOU want to."
If I want to? THE FUCK? She's YOUR cousin... you have her number... call HER. Grow up. Shit... you have a mouth-- a BIG one... use it.
I just giggled and agreed.

She stayed on the line, not wanting to hang up. She asked me how I was doing THREE times. She then asked me if I had any questions. Then she said it was good to hear I was good.
I was just standing completely frozen in my hallway, quietly wondering what her problem was.
I tried ending the conversation twice, but she didn't want to kill it.

I don't feel she wanted to fight or argue... but the opposite. I think she wanted to clear the air, which honestly, she doesn't need to... I probably do, if anything. I should probably just let her know that I heard some of the claims she was making, which admittedly might have become distorted as they made their way down the grapevine, so I hold no grudge. I WAS angry, very angry, but I let it go. And that I apologize for purposely making her feel bad... because I know I DID actively seek to piss her off and offend her.
But I didn't say anything. I just answered her questions as nicely, as friendly as possible, and promised to forward her message.

HOWEVER this truce, this desire to be civil, is being threatened, since Lau isn't as forgiving. She HATES this girl.
I love Lau, she's my homie... but I can't join her in this hatred... this unforgiving hate. She might be able to handle it, but not I. Hate really is toxic to me... and it makes me a horrible person, and it... it overpowers me. MY "horrible person" is a truly HORRIBLE person... I have too many places to draw from, and I'm sure few people know that-- because apparently I've done a great job at making my life seem like an enchanted fairytale. When I set my mind to verbally/physically hurt someone, I don't just hurt, I obliterate. Once I turn this version on, it becomes nearly impossible to turn it off until I dismantle my target.
Some folk think it's amusing, but the entire time, my fucking soul is hurting... because I don't WANT to be terrible, I just AM.
I don't like that version of AnoMALIE. At all. It embarrasses me. It drains me.
I don't know if everyone has this problem, but due to this, I always try to mediate.
My mediating doesn't always work... often I just gain two enemies with a mutual hatred of ME.

In this instance, I'm trying not to partake in the trashtalking... but I also don't want Lau to feel like an outcast. I just want her to move on... to forget about everything... or just be apathetic to this cousin of hers.
We'll never again be a group of happy friends, but we can all at least be civil to one another.

I hate this. 

Not today, bitch!

So... I heard Justin Bieber had a shitty birthday...

Me? It was wonderful.
This entire weekend was strangely amazing... I even won a raffle today (I only purchased one ticket). Do you know how many times I've "won" a raffle in my life? ZERO... well, one starting today.

There were only two snags:
1. I rolled my ankle Friday afternoon while doing some jumping jacks. I was riding such a high from the amazing day I was having, I didn't feel the pain. The pain didn't intensify until Saturday afternoon, when I did my usual morning jog accompanied by some HIIT. I then woke up this morning with the stiffest freakin' left ankle imaginable. I've spent the rest of the day trying to rest the damn foot.

2. Drama with my goddaughter. It's stupid. It was the ONLY negative blip the entire weekend. She tried being a little shithead, by not wishing me a happy birthday (though she "liked" a post I was tagged in... but what the fuck does that mean? NOTHING. She also had lunch with my sister... and my sister mentioned it was my birthday... so....), I reacted, and things got awkward.

I KNOW I say I don't give a shit about people wishing me a happy birthday... but I guess it's more of a case-by-case basis:
*I will slit my wrists the birthday my mom or sister forget.
*My brother I'm more lax on, because he is busy as all fucking hell... and he really isn't very observant... so, I don't get upset when it's 9PM the night of my birthday and I haven't heard from Mr. Rafa.
*My dad? HA! I'm SHOCKED when he REMEMBERS. I sort of panic, actually. This year he was consistent in wishing me a happy birthday the day AFTER (mind you, I had a frozen custard date with both my parents at work, immediately after leaving the gym. Dad was clueless, enjoying the banana split I bought him, as expected. I happily savored my blueberry frozen custard cone as I smiled at Daddy with my "You're a silly man... you adorable caveman" expression plastered across my face).

Aside from that, I usually base other's wishes on the way THEY treat birthdays. If they're chill and not very festive, I'm the same way. If they make fucking noise about their birthday for MONTHS in advance, I figure "Hey, maybe that fucking day is very fucking important to him/her."
My goddaughter? Fucking kid harps about her fucking birthday almost every day of the year... seriously. And when people forget? She flips, of course. So... I proceed to assume that acknowledging people's birthday is of upmost importance to her-- if she doesn't wish you a happy birthday, it's her biggest way of flipping you the bird.

She's spoiled, was born with a silver spoon, and everyone caters to her fucking "needs."
I don't.
I set her ass straight when she's being petulant, disrespectful, arrogant, self-centered, inconsiderate, and all those negative "attributes" spoiled kids tend to have. I'll be blunt and immediately let her know when she needs to start acting right.
She does not like this... and I had been doing this quite mercilessly these last few weeks... because she has been a total weasel.
Her typical, high-schooler response was to ignore me.

On my birthday, she was active on FB all day, as well as IG and Twitter... MULTIPLE times tweeting a couple of minutes after I had.
This. Pissed. Me. Off. (I'm human! This shit got under my skin after a few hours)
It was the ONLY thing to piss me off. It was that goddamn pebble in my shoe all weekend.
So I gave my sister a job: Next time you see Goddaughter, please do me the favor of letting her know she's dead to me. You will make my life if you put it like that-- "dead to me."
Want to act like I'm invisible? Dude! Well, no problem there! I'm HELL OF invisible! I mastered that shit in KINDERGARTEN. I can disappear form your radar for life, if that's what you'd like. Problem is, the person who makes ME invisible, I register as "dead" in my head, so I'm not tempted to talk to them or contact them in any way. So, please think this one through, badass.

This afternoon D sends me a text telling me she told the goddaughter, word for word, what I said, and that "she almost cried."
Good. Maybe that'll knock some fucking sense into her head and teach her she can't be such a cunt to people.
About an hour later I get a text from Goddaughter:

Notice how grammar is on point? That's thanks to me.
You're welcome, America.

... yo, someone needs to tell this kid how invisibility works...

Can anyone else pick up on the ridiculous sense of entitlement this girl has? The audacity? It also seems like she does this a lot-- apologize.
Can't take the heat? Get the fuck out the kitchen.
Can't own up to your behavior when called out? Then don't play fucking little games, bro... especially with someone who has been handling it for over two decades.
You have to learn actions have consequences... and some people out there will have no problem rubbing your nose in your shit.
Man.

S-OHHHHH!
I DID have an incredible weekend. My birthday was beautifully pleasant. I laughed, I smiled, I danced, I ran, I got injured, I played with numerous animals, I WON A RAFFLE, I ate delicious food, I hugged people, I kissed people, I drove fast, I listened to loud music, I skyped people... dude! I fucking SMILED! I even booked a flight to the bay for St. Patrick's Day weekend. I was on cloud nine. Shit, JC even reverted to his old ways and woke me up with a phone call where he sang "Happy Birthday" to me. It was like old times...
Some day I'll make things PERFECT.
This year, the goal came very freakishly close.

Slow and steady-- it's what I do.

AND the trashtalk CONTINUES!
I'm so fed up... so, so, SO fed up.
I HATE perpetuating stereotypes and being trite... but sweet baby elephants (I once again gave up cussing for Lent. Sorry guys!), I'm dealing with some incredibly stubborn haters.
Here I was stupid and naive, thinking that maybe with time, the garbage would end.
I'm sure after a couple of months of seeing me NOT rebound, they'll believe me when I say I did things LEGITIMATELY, and not with drugs or surgery...
But instead, the hate has grown more vicious... and from THE SAME BROADS!
They say it with SUCH CONVICTION, people believe them... and I'm left SPEECHLESS.
How can... how can anyone propagate lies like that... so shamelessly?! WHAT DID I DO TO YOU TO DESERVE THAT TREATMENT?! I'm a MOUSE! I mind my own business! I sleep, eat, hit the gym, shower, shop, draw, paint, write, watch some cooking shows... and sleep some more! I hardly see ANYONE, let alone speak to anyone. COME ON!

I try to be calm... and very rational. But it's so strange to see that even after I come out and "clear up" the situation, I still hear the SAME lies.
If pills really CAN build muscle... then... why in the hell have YOU not tried them? I mean, wouldn't you rather have muscles than that amorphous blob you call a body? Why are people still freakin' fat if such a damn magic pill exists?!

I know celebrities get hate on a regular basis... most public figures deal with this garbage. I'm baffled and bewildered because I'm such a private NORMAL person, and I've always been that way... the reason why anyone would want to talk about me confuses me. I'm practically invisible.
I've seen girls hate on each other due to jealousy... but I had never been on the receiving end (well, maybe they hated on me once or twice for my financial situation... I've heard plenty of people deprecate my travels as well as my vehicles. "Why does SHE get to do that?" I dunno, homie... because... I won some sort of lottery by being born to the parents I was born to. They love me. I'm sorry you didn't run such luck? You can always hitch a ride with me, if that's what you'd like. You can even travel with me, as long as you pay for your ticket. I'll pay for your meals, if that'll make you happy. I've done it before), since I've never been a "threat." I don't flirt... I don't date... I DON'T TALK! I just mind my business and carry on living... ALONE. Come on now. Why mess with me?

Friends have suggested I take it as a compliment... and I try... but it's just not me. I don't possess that trait.
I just live confused and then angry. And uncomfortable.
What do I do when angry, confused, and uncomfortable? I return the favor (you know, after I'm done crying from the frustration). I give the people what they want.
It's only fair. I'm considerate like that.
Because I'm a sweet, lovely girl.

Like I said, I'm a pro at slow-roasting...
I live to shark-- I work MAGIC in that department.

You want to hate me? Oh girl, why didn't you tell me earlier? I would have saved you the trouble of trying to be clever with your "sarcastic" "witty" and "indirect" remarks.
Sit back, relax, and watch me burn you. It'll be fun. And DELIBERATE.
Promise :)

Step one: I call you out.
Let's make this badboy PUBLIC. Let's get it out in the open, shall we? I'm feeling a little suffocated.

Holy cow... my tits look huge now that I see this on my laptop....
Too bad everyone already saw them on IG.
Welp... there they are, ladies and gents... my boobs.

Pill popping and plastic surgery? I'll show you whatever body part you want to see... but only if I can do the same to you. Most you'll see on me are my tiger stripes I very idiotically acquired from allowing myself to get so large. However, I have never been under the knife... I haven't even had my wisdom teeth extracted... so... good luck finding any of those scars. Can YOU say the same?
Let's also play a game: punch me ONCE, as hard as you'd like, right in my abdomen (never the face. My big nose is sensitive. Hitting me in the face only means you're ready to kiss a sidewalk)... but you must agree I get to do the same to you. It'll only hurt if your core isn't too strong... but considering you've ONLY hit the gym for YOUR weight-loss, I don't think you'll have a problem. Don't worry about me, though I've NEVER checked in at the gym like you have, I promise that place has been my shrine for two years. My core is a-ok.

Let the games begin.

(Hours after posting that photo on IG on Friday, I inadvertently became the personal trainer to three of my friends. I was answering nutrition questions as well as lifting questions. If only my haters would be as trusting. I'd answer their questions, TRUTHFULLY, if they'd just bother to ask me personally... instead of assuming things to pass off as facts. Who knows, maybe we'd even become close friends... gym buddies, minimum. I LOVE helping people out. I wish these jerks would understand that)

Of Girls and Beasts

For the last few days, I've tried SO VERY HARD to stay mum.
I've bitten my tongue... and taken deep breaths... trying my best to ignore.

There's this fucking broad that is trying to get under my skin, and shit, why lie? She has fucking succeeded.
I'm often seconds from getting into my car, driving to her house, dragging her out into the middle of the street by her hair, and proceeding to elbow the fucking shit out of her SURGICALLY (POORLY) ENHANCED FACE.
I've almost called her out, by full name, on my FB...
but I'm a pressure cooker.

I've decided I'm going to let this simmer.
I like my beef so soft, it falls apart at the bone.
Come May, I'm tearing this bitch up! We're going to be bridemaids in the same wedding... and shit is going to get real... SO REAL on that fucking plastic heifer.
I'm building my appetite for now, and sharpening my teeth... as furious as her accusations make me... and how fucking obnoxious she's being right now... I'll hold off. I'll be the quiet, patient girl I've always been.
I know better... I build my case against whatever fucking brute continuously throws pebbles down my throat... and when the time's right, I let him or her have what he/she has worked SO FUCKING DILIGENTLY at acquiring: my motherfucking wrath.
Go ahead, think you've gotten away with shit, you fucking weasel... you're just making it easier for me to lose all fucking pity and mercy I'd have on you when the time comes to unmask you in front of the fucking society you think you're so superior to... I will feel no remorse about the ridicule and shame I'm about to bring your way. HAVE FUN!

I'll never understand why people constantly pick on a quiet, passive peer... the one who can CLEARLY kick your fucking ass, but opts to mind his or her own business.
Just because they allow you to throw your occasional stick or stone, you suddenly overestimate your abilities, and eventually push the monster to finally pound the living shit out of you.
WHY are people so goddamn stubborn and push limits like that? Why do they WANT to see quiet, peaceful people at their worst? What twisted logic is that?
My god.

H-h-h-hate

Aaaaand it begins.
Again.
Oh, Shaman! I need that fucking limpia.
Aren't people supposed to be famous in order to have haters?
Fantastic.

And I made myself so easy to love...

Luckily I can put this stress to good use and fucking PUSH.

You haters, how can I gain your favor?
I need to know, 'cause I care.
I need you to love me, I swear. Look here.

I'll just keep acting like I don't know anything is going on... and mind my own business.

I need you, stay there.
I breathe you, like air.

Oh, HOVA, why you so smart? 
The man gets me.

No benefit

I hate myself for giving others the benefit of the doubt. I fucking HATE it.

I claim to be a badass and mean and heartless...
but shiiiiit, I trust people NOT to assholes TOO OFTEN.

I also claim I'm going to be an adult in my conduct with others...
but that too is a fucking mistake, and I immediately resort to kindergarten behavior.

I need to pull someone's hair... and kick in their teeth... and scratch out their eyes.
Fuck, I'm immature... and angry.

Chill out

I have a tendency to forget not ALL girls are like me.
I'm not saying I'm awesome or anything... but I WILL say I'm pretty fucking chill. I'm laid back, and quiet, and respect other's opinions... and I like to laugh... and I'm sarcastic... and I'm NOT fucking uptight (only with certain topics... which rarely get mentioned anyway). I know how to laugh at myself-- trust me, if I didn't y'all would be commemorating my death for over a decade by now.

Since I do this, I start believing that every girl is like this... I'm fucking delusional like that.
The moment they freak out on me, I get upset... mainly because I forget most of these bitches won't bite their tongue to insult me, chastise me, or patronize me... which they do without fail.
I'm not ten years old... but I still get choked up when a girl I THOUGHT was laid back like me freaks the fuck out on me.

Maybe I have a higher tolerance when it comes to insults... mainly because I've pretty much heard them all. I also don't get on my goddamn high horse and act like I'm motherfucking perfect.

I just wish people gave me as much leeway as I give them.
But of course, that's too much to ask, so I normally end up upset and scolded... like some fucking five-year-old in time-out after she accidentally screamed "fuck!" upon realizing she colored outside the lines (what? That never happened to you?).
And then I'm too nice to get in their face and let them know they've upset ME... so I just stay quiet and disappointed... and proceed to rant about it on-line.

And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why I fucking hate girls and MUCH RATHER chill with guys... who only tell you ONCE to shut the fuck up and then change the subject and laugh with you some more.

Fuck, I hate girls.

Fans.

Scuffles are fun... especially when the scuffle's between me and a delusional football "wife." (She IS dating a professional fooballer, but they're not married)

It's a trip to see how "fame" makes a person's personality, their good charisma, go to hell.
He isn't Cristiano Ronaldo... chill the fuck out.

I hope my friends never become "famous." Stay normal, down-to-earth people, ok?

I'm pissed.

Lazy wetwhatwho?!

It's baaaaack!
My terrible, terrible lifetime partner is BACK.

YOU SON OF A BIIIIIIIITCH!
and yes... that's a Germany-inspired mani.
I'm torn between making a portugal-inspired one next... or sticking to Spain. It hurts my heart.

Yeah.
I had been doing an awesome job at controlling it, especially since I've gotten the hang of when I break out.
What makes me break out?
Being extremely nervous...
Or being extremely flustered/angry.
Any of these two things happen, and that's when the stupid coldsore from HELL decides to accompany me for a few days/weeks.
What triggered this outbreak?
A moment of pure IRE, which I encountered Saturday night.

I know I come off as quite the grouchy, mean bitch on here... but I swear to god I'm patient as fuck. I'm quiet, and extremely patient in person. I'm a timid mouse.
I will sit there, usually with a shy smile on my face, and listen to bullshit for fucking HOURS. People can toss insults at me for hours... they can even get physically offensive with me a couple of times, and I will STILL quietly put up with it... because I know the moment I go off, I will MAIM a motherfucker.
The amount of self-restraint I practice is... pretty unheard of, hence my usual rants on here-- it's the only time I allow myself to blow-up.
The rage I hold within is years in the making-- decades of much physical/psychological/emotional/verbal abuse.
I'm a fucking volcano... and I continuously need to tell myself to calm the fuck down.
I need:
1. Gym Time... with lots and lots of weight-training and kickboxing in order to relieve MUCH of the stress/angst/hatred I harbor.
2. Church time. I'm a big girl-- a science-oriented, science-educated girl-- while I identify Catholic, I have my own beliefs... and hearing people patronize me for it REEEEEALLY pisses me the fuck off. To automatically assume I'm a dumb shit for going to church will automatically get you on my shit-list, my will-beat-the-shit-out-of-you shit-list. Church time is my meditation time... my cool down time... my counselor time. It soothes me, so get the fuck off my back and quit treating me like a retard for needing a place to hear calming words that will keep me from smothering you to death. K? Cool.
Normally, I have plenty of these two things in my life... so I'm pretty good in person... and it's thanks to this that last night I didn't seriously injure anyone, and only suffered the outbreak of a stupid coldsore.

What happened?
Game Night with a racist idiot white girl happened.
Game Night with Musketeer's wife happened.
All was running quite well... it was like the reunion of the three musketeers... a very pleasant one. It was like we had traveled back to 2005... only I was the sole member who didn't bring back a soulmate... probably because I'm soul-less, but I digress.
There were plenty of giggles... and sarcastic remarks... and smiles... inside jokes... it was a pretty chill time.
Then Apples to Apples happened.
Fucking game always causes drama...
The adjective we had to try to win was... I think something along the lines of "lazy"... or "revolutionary," my ire makes my memory fail here.
Kelley's dude was the one in charge of choosing the winner. We usually plead our case to the "chooser," so that's exactly what happened.
One of the cards was "Cesar Chavez."
K'sMan: Cesar Chavez?
Musketeer: Man was a fucking HERO!
Musketeer'swife: That lazy wetback just wanted an excuse NOT to work.
....
Now... "wetback" is not a word that normally enrages me. I don't get angry when people are being "sarcastic" either... but this bitch said it seriously... like in the tone one uses when saying Hitler was a horrible man.
I was so shocked, I was at a loss for words... any sort of sound, really. My brain was nearly short-circuiting at the thought that someone would say something so racially charged... so... hateful... and fucking historically inaccurate.
Everyone else in the room gasped.
Musketeer'swife: What?
Kelley: You know... wetback's a terribly derogatory term, right?
Musketeer'swife: Oh my god! I'm so sorry! I'm from New Mexico! That's what they taught me! In New Mexico "wetback" is not a derogatory term!
And they also told you Cesar Chavez was LAZY?!
By now I could feel my face burning. My hair was standing on end... I felt like I could start shooting lightning bolts. I could have jumped at her throat and ripped her face apart... no bath salts needed.
I was also holding back tears... because I was finding myself pretty fucking hurt. I HAVE been called a wetback, numerous times... as has my father... and while I don't care when people throw it around "playfully"... when someone "means" it, I cry. I just think of the poor, terrified, desperate immigrants who cross the river... many drowning... the ordeal of it all... just to have a better life. I think of the horrible conditions many of these immigrants live under, and I seriously cry.
To hear someone mock it so hatefully gives me a knot in my throat.

So yeah, I was furious, I was sad, I was offended, I was confused... but I was holding it all in.
The girl kept apologizing, which only aggravates a situation because they're only digging a deeper hole, but I didn't want to make a scene... so I clenched my jaw (and fists) and told her to just let it go.
The night continued... but the awkwardness never left.

I went home, cried a little, then went to bed.
I woke up at six in the morning, and in the middle of my shower, I felt a hot spot on my lip.
Upon closer inspection, I saw my annoying companion.

Ah! Ignorance-- such a lovely piece of shit to deal with... it even gives me coldsores now! Hooray!
Ok, enough... I have to cry the remaining hate now. I'll be fine tomorrow.

Pantalones blancos

I shouldn't laugh...
And I'm not... it's just a light chuckle encouraged by Karma... so it never develops into a full, body-shaking laugh attack... out of fear that Karma will turn around and slap me across the face--Mom-style. It's just a quiet, controlled chuckle.

Remember the guy who gave me that "compliment" a while back? The dude who said I'd be perfect if I looked like my sister? Well... that is pretty vague, considering that's what a ton of dudes tell me.
It's the guy who told my sister she'd be perfect if she had MY personality.

Well, I've been talking to him recently... because I'm a forgiving idiot.
But it's not like it's romantic or anything. Sure, there's flirting and whatnot... but as far as me wanting to take it beyond lovely bater, no. He's a smoker. I don't touch that shit. Sure, it gives him this sexy growl to his voice, but that sexy growl eventually with age it turns to a hacking cough, and that shit is NEVER sexy. Plus, smokers have a permanent, penetrating stench that my nostrils can't tolerate (sorry, smokers, but I'm not going to lie and act like you smell good).
Also, he has this... WACK beard going on... which I don't understand, really. WHY are men purposely trying to look like some old school lumberjack? The Brawny man is sexy and all... but he's like... "dad sexy." Stubble's fine... not a fan, but it's fine... but going for the ZZTop/Zach Wilde bullshit is unacceptable.
This guy has the ZZTop shit going on. Blegh.

Anyway, we've been talking A LOT, mainly thanks to the whole Euro Cup thing. As far as sports are concerned, Los (that's what I'm going to call him) and I connect pretty strongly. The moment I accidentally bumped into him on my way to kickboxing class, his face looked like what I imagine someone would look like if he/she saw a unicorn.
Yo, man, my legs are nearly three feet long. Someone wants to teach me how to use them as a weapon? I'm game!
So, he thinks I'm cool because of this... and we'll gently tease each other about our sports favorites.
HOWEVER, in my years of knowing him, I've learned a few things:
He's a textbook Aries.
My experience with Aries is this (ahhhh, shit, here comes my astrology bullshit... but hey! You have to admit many times that shit is scary accurate): I don't get along with female Aries, but guy Aries are a different story. I get along with dude Aries because they tend to push me to do shit my otherwise cowardly-ass would never do. And they tend to defend the shit out of me because they have quicker wits than I do. And they tell me to quit my pity-party bullshit when I'm being a Negative Nancy.
They make me less of a crying pussy, basically. Everyone needs someone like that in their life. Plus, when they want to be mushy and sweet, they're fucking adorable.
They have a strong, often off-putting personality, but when they're cool, they're hella cool.
BUT don't EVER piss them off. They will chew you out, then ignore you. You DIE to them. It's insane, really.
That's Los.
I've pissed him off ONCE. I criticized his smoking and he quit speaking to me for months.
I had to do fucking backflips to get back in his good-graces.
Lesson learned: don't piss off an Aries.

Ok, so, we're friendly and flirty.
Next thing I know, he starts hitting me up last night, FURIOUS.
Luckily, I wasn't the target of his fury.
He just needed to vent.
While he likes my personality, it's clear physically there ain't shit... because he's into the more feminine look... you know, girls who are into dresses and heels and that shit. I'm 5'8", he's 5'9"... if I wear heels, he's down to my tits... well, not that short, but I'll usually be a head taller than him.
He had been talking to a chick who lives in San Diego, she has only seen photos of him which he decides to post on Twitter. She HAS heard him, though... and like I said, he has a sexy, raspy voice.
He also raps. This is how she knows him.

Well, he went down to SD for some stupid rap-olympic type bullshit (see, if he heard me calling it this, I'd once again be cut off), where he finally met up with her.
Shortly after, he called me... at around midnight. His group of dudes had left him, and he was angrily/drunkenly walking the streets of San Diego.
Los: Yo, yo, yo! Can you believe this fucking shit?
Me: Uh... hello?
Los: I meet up with this chick, right? Fuckin' first words "You wearin' WHITE pants?!" and I'm like "YEAH, I'm wearing WHITE pants. Get off my dick!"
Me: ....
Los: Follows that shit up with "You look NOTHING like I thought you would." THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!
Oh. My God. Must. Not. Laugh.
Me: Whoa...
Los: Fuck that shit. Fuckin' broads tryin'a clown. Fuck fucking stupid fucking broads!!!
Me: You ok, man?
Los: ::Drunk, incomprehensible, raspy, sound... probably lighting a cig::
::click::

Aaaaaall righty then.
I still don't know what the deal was with that phone call... though I did find it hilarious it was made on JC's birthday.
It appears I'm quite the target when it comes to drunk, angry, heartbroken men.
Just let your frustrations out on me... it's all good. I've heard it all. Blame me for the ills of my kind... you know, the girls... though I'm not very girly... only apparently when you're drunk and angry and in desperate need to vent your frustrations.

And uh, Karma?
Yup.
How does it feel, bro? I've heard that line before... I have plenty of experience with it... usually a lovely head jerk where I just know the dude is thinking "WHOA! WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Must. Get. Out!"

You'd be perfect... if you looked like your sister.

Hmm... maybe next time you'll watch what comes out of that purdy little smoking mouth of yours, homie.

Ok, I'll stop laughing and start feeling bad for my injured-ego Aries. Poor dude.

HoodAssBitch

My Facebook friends are more entertaining than yours:

seems innocent enough...

Whoa! Wait! What?

Uh-oh... shit's going down!

See, if I were in this fight, I'd use proper spelling, punctuation, grammar, etc.
But that's just me.

I giggled.

Even I felt a little offended here.
Prostitute? Homie, that's only OUT OF TOWN HOES!

Really? "Let's escalate the argument! Let's take it to THE PHONE!"
Weak.

No girl likes admitting she has an "ugly ass fk" man.
No girl.

True story.
And... is it me, or do I sense a strong case of bipolar behavior right now?

Wait... I'm confused now...

More giggles.
"Squares in me circle?"... wha?

Oh! Oh! I sense "shit's about to get real!"

Hard.

Ok, enough.
Yeah right! I kept reading!
It was like "Blood In Blood Out" being played out in real life!

... Aaaaand this is how people end up murdered over a Facebook status...

I swear not a day goes by where I don't wonder how the hell I'm still friends with some people...
P.S. The angry latina? Yeah, I fought her back in middle school. She "stole" Mario from me and shit went down.
P.S.S. I whooped her ass... then we became friends.
P.S.S.S. I think she's gonna get her ass BEAT when she meets up with this crazy broad.
P.S.S.S.S. This argument only got WORSE... talk about infanticide, and 48 "niggas" jumping "yo white ass." Hmmm... people are interesting creatures... I feel like I need to call the cops now...

PISSED OFF girl

Christ almighty, Christ almighty!!

I'm going to end up strangling someone.
I can't tweet. I can't update my status.
I have a motherfucking muzzle on.
Frustrated doesn't even cover it...
and the wedding hasn't even started.
Goddamn.
I'm going to end the night in prison.

Pacemaker's pretentious comments are driving me insane... especially her passive-aggressive shit.
I nearly lost it the moment she informed me I had a farmer's tan.
Oh, Yeah? Well, you're fat.... that shit's going to be out there for all to see as well. I'll take the farmer tan, thanks.Seriously? You're going to criticize ME... MY physical aspect? HA!

God, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Someone's getting strangled tonight.

Big Girl

Ufffff!
AnoMALIE's aggravated. REALLY aggravated....
Know what that means?
Rant-infested, super long, incoherent entry...

First:
That recent news story... the murder story. Of the chick. Who was found in the tub. In her wedding dress.
In Chicago.
I knew her. She's from my part of Mexico. Two towns over from Hometown.
The bit of news has me all... upset.
I haven't cried, I mean, I wasn't close to her at all.
I'm friends with her first cousin, that's how I know this chick.
I feel terrible for the victim and her family.
I'm furious over the murder. Like... I want this guy to get the WORST punishment possible. It makes me sick.
A sad state of affairs which has managed to mindfuck me since... Sunday night? Early Monday morning? I think it was early Monday morning. I had to keep quiet per request of her family.
Terribly difficult.

Ok, now what is SERIOUSLY aggravating me:
My sister.
More like... my sister's move to Chicago.
It's really, truly frustrating.

She's my sister, I want nothing more than for her to succeed and be happy.
Her abrupt departure to Chicago surprised me and infuriated me.

There are ways to go about things.
I'm all for people going out and seeking their fortunes or whatever.
I applaud all those who are independent and work hard for their money. That IS something to admire, always.
HOWEVER, I do not see the need for ME to go about suffering that stress if I DON'T HAVE TO.
Guess what?
I. DON'T. HAVE. TO.

So the moment someone criticizes me for not being out there putting up with other people's shit is the moment I put a halt to their train.
It's the moment I will turn into a snob, and I will shut them the fuck up.

My sister, well, she can't handle the criticism.
I've been lucky to have some amazing friends who understand this aspect of my life.
Your parents immigrated to the states, worked their asses off, and now you don't  have to worry about monetary issues? You mean your parents want to share their wealth with you because that's the reason they even began to work in the first place? Dude, I'm happy for you, AnoMALIE. That's great! Your parents rock.
I'm also lucky in the sense that they know how hard I CAN work if I ever have to. They know my strong work-ethic, discipline, and integrity because the VAST majority of my friends I acquired in school.
Not ONCE have I heard shittalk from my (real) friends.
Acquaintances have pulled my leg about the topic, and that's when my ugly, caustic bitch comes out.

My sweet, impressionable kid sister, however, has not been so lucky.
While Sis has some good friends, MANY of them are haters. Strong haters.
My sister is easily swayed. VERY easily.
SO, these haters get to her.
"Friends" will continuously patronize her every move.
Oh, Mommy and Daddy will pay for it.
That's the phrase that gets my sis.
You need to go out there and see what the REAL world is like!
Oh... you mean... those 14 years I spent in the ghetto, waking up to dead bodies on the street, drug dealers/users strung the fuck out next to my bus stop, and those prostitutes walking the streets as I *tried* playing Freeze Tag didn't count as "REAL life"... not even remotely? Those years spent as a latchkey kid, trying to be as silent as possible so as to not attract attention wasn't Real Life? How about... not knowing what owning/sleeping in my own, real bed felt like until I was a 14-year old? That doesn't count as Real Life?! For real? Oh shit! I have a lot of learning to do then!
I know what "The Real World" is like, and quite frankly, it FUCKING SUCKS. And I don't want to go back... so why are you trying to guilt-trip me into falling back into it? Fuck you.
But Sister doesn't think of this when her "friends" talk shit and make fun of her.

The quickness with which she wanted to leave us freaked me out.
The lack of a proper plan freaked me out.
WHY was she so rushed to LEAVE the good, comfortable life my parents worked so hard to get us?

For a while, I thought she left because of a dude. I can see that... because I went through that at her age... though due to life events (I thought were unfortunate at the time) the plans came tumbling down.

This question boggled my mind.
Then this morning I saw a comment on her status that was... that moment where the angels sing... you know, that moment of clarity... that epiphany. Laaaahhhhh!!

Originally, I planned on just placing the screen shot here, so you all could see it for yourselves,
HOWEVER, I waited too long and now my sister has deactivated her Facebook account (for maybe the fifth time... she's such a drama queen, I swear).
I'll have to write it out, I guess.
The status was my sister complaining about the expensive plane ticket she had purchased to come home EDC weekend.
A few of her friends had commented... asking for details etc etc... then that bitch commented.
"It's too soon to visit home. Be a big girl."
...
...
Excuse me? What did this bitch just say?
Too soon to visit home? Girl, I'm sorry if YOU have family issues, but we D's love each other. Sure, we fight like cats and dogs... often getting violent as fuck... but make no mistake, we love the HELL out of each other. We're just passionate people... we get caught up in our feelings.

Be a "Big Girl?" So... in order to be a big girl, an adult, you HAVE to suffer and be alone? I'm... sorry... but... I can't quite follow your logic here...

Those ten words made it clear for me.
BINGO! We have our brain-washer!

This girl is the ONE girl I did NOT like from the get-go. The moment my sis presented her to me, I disliked her.
No other friend of D's has rubbed me so wrongly. Not even gangly, envious little Twiggy.
This is the girl D got in that infamous fight for at the House of Blues a while back.
I lost ANY interest in giving her a shot as a friend the moment D told me her reaction to my sister helping her fight the bitches off.
Any normal friend would be grateful... appreciative... but not this bitch. Not at all.
"Never mention it again."

She was never loyal, either.
She was a slut.
She was always that sloppy drunk bitch Downtown losing her shit and picking fights.
She was... a bad influence.
She was always having issues with SOMEONE in her family.
And she was always patronizing D.

I fought the urge to reply to the bitch and start some shit on D's status... but I had to let D know how I felt.
So I went ahead and sent a text to D.
And that sent her on a downward emotional spiral.
"I guess I've just never been good at choosing friends."
No, no you haven't... and for some reason, you've ALWAYS sided with those bad influences. You've thought WE were the ones harming you.
Now you're suffering... and alone... just how they wanted you to be in the first place... because that's what they are: alone, bitter, and miserable. 
You just fell for their shit.
Now, sadly, you have the tough task of proving them wrong. Do it, dude.

And now we have this. D no longer on FB, no longer texting me... and only writing cryptic shit on twitter.
Fan-fucking-tastic!
So exasperating.

... I'm beating "the slut"s ass next time I see her... I hear she's quite the SHIT fighter. Dumb cunt.