2000

I've been back for two days... and I tell myself I'll update ASAP, but things get in the way... like photo sifting.
TWO THOUSAND FOTOS.
I'm still not done.
My brain is fried.

But I will say this:
I've never been happier.
My batteries are definitely recharged.
Did I mention I'm really happy?

I'll make a real update soon enough, a fucking shitton of things happened this past week.

Brain-purge

It happened again-- that thing where too many things happen at once and my brain wants to explode.
I really need to get that shit under control.
These last few weeks have been lacking updates not because of the monotony that controls my life, but quite the opposite.
Each day has been... different.
Too much for my fucking brain to handle.

I've been so frustrated by this sudden buzz in my life, that I've resorted to taking AUDIO MEMOS. AUDIO MEMOS! Do you know how fucking weird that is?! I feel like Joseph on Amelie... talking into his recorder as he stalks his ex... except I do it to keep my ideas in order.
There I am, sitting at a red light, holding my iphone to my mouth and talking to it... silly, really... but if I don't do it, the idea is more than likely gone forever. At 27, it appears my memory's "full," so I'm S.O.L. if I want to remember anything new.
We had a good run, brain.

Anyway, what can I say about these last few weeks?
There was a 50th wedding anniversary (topic I wanted to talk about here was "how the fuck do you put up with someone's bullshit for 50 fucking years? It's admirable... but kind of nauseating to think about. That being said, my parents BETTER FUCKING MAKE IT TO 50! They're gonna be married FOREVER, you hear me?!"),

so THIS is how you filter your nose out of a shot!
Eye-makeup: the only redeemable thing about hitting up a 50th wedding anniversary.

Birthdays galore (my fellow Pisces rock. March babies are the shit... also... why are there so many around the same days? Like... around the 7th-15th? The 10th is LOADED with birthdays... what holiday falls on the conception date for March 7th-15th babies? Memorial Day? It's-Hot-So-I-Wanna-Ride-Bareback-Weekend? Whatever it is... that day is fucking popular... no pun intended),
Leaky bedroom roof-- discovered while it poured and I was HOME ALONE (plans ruined by my inability to be a resourceful Mexican... a couple of my paintings ruined as well, which led to a rage/sadness-induced mini-meltdown... melt-down eased by hanging out with a group of dudes... and drinking whiskey on an empty stomach... because when I want to drink, I don't do pussy shit),

My room flooded today? Hmm... I can't seem... to... recall that.

One-Year Anniversary of my "Death," metaphorically speaking (Oh, that lucky 2011 St. Patrick's Day... Eat a dick, St. Patty's Day!),
March Madness (this speaks for itself. I'm a meanass wreck. So violent... kicking shit, punching shit, cussing in front of men, women, and children. I need a chill-pill...),
"Mood-stabilizers" (they work MAGIC. I think this qualifies me as... insane... right? Nah, not even... I just need help when it comes to not wanting to jump off a cliff when sadness gets a hold of me... or strangle that dumb cunt at the gym who only gives me two feet of space when I'm clean-and-pressing or kickboxing. I'm 5'8"! Get out of my way, you fucking midget!),
Body recomposition (I have some MEAN obliques going on right now... and my deltoids are kinda dreamy... I'll cop to being a tool and admiring my back as I flex in front of a mirror. My one year anniversary is coming up and I have a massive entry dedicated to this whole weight-loss/strong-girl issue of mine... hopefully I don't go all ADD on it again),

Down side to lifting like a dude for MY clumsy ass?
The random bruising that comes along with it!
I mean... have you seen what a weighted glute bridge looks like? Yeah. THAT bruise sucks.

Arm wrestling--and beating-- boys at night clubs (we M girls are fucking beasts, that's all I gotta say about that),
and SO much more.

But I'm tired as fuck right now...
so... hopefully once the pace slows down, I'll hit one or two of these subjects. I'll just make an AUDIO note of it.

Quick hits are addicting

-Tyson passed his tests with flying colors.
Vet: Tyson... just got old... finally.
:( No!! NO! My little cow is a young buck, you hear me!
My 102 pound little cow finally got old... but he'll be keeping all four of his paws.

The news had me chirpy all day yesterday.

-I finalized my travel plans for DC. I'll be starting the month of September out there... until the 6th. There's only one downer to it: I'll have to find my way to Rafa's place on my own once I arrive in DC.
Always a blast.
Woo.
Right.
I've decided I'm only taking a carry-on... adventure, guys, adventure.

-Remember that deal that was taking place back in '05-'07 and finally fell apart when the economy went to hell? My "new rules" thing? Well... it appears it's back on. Now we're all weighing the pros and cons... and the only one for it is my dad. I don't know what's going to happen, all I know is that it gives me a stomach ache when I think about it. The news pretty much flipped my world upside down... again.
Is this... really happening... AGAIN?

-I love my haircut... but it's garnering a lot of "that type" of attention... from both guys and girls.
It appears girls are attracted to me when my hair is done up... and guys are attracted to me when my hair is soaking wet.
I don't understand the phenomenon... but it's getting a little weird.
When girls holler at me... it's... weird, as usual, but they're typically really nice about it. I stutter and smile my way out of it. They don't push the subject, they just give me that "Oh, ya know, I just thought... my bad. No hard feelings, girl" shrug thing while winking.
Lesbians are always so nice.
When guys holler at me... I turn into the typical asshole I really am. This especially goes down when I'm walking out of the gym. My hair is DRENCHED when I walk out of the gym... and so, my clothes is as well. All I want to do is jog to my car and jet out of the place. I give people a wet-t shirt contest preview each time... it's embarrassing.

Take for example, yesterday, as I was walking towards my car, this really, REALLY cute black guy checked me out then made a witty remark... and I reacted in the only way I know how:
I gave him the stink eye then acted as if I was deaf.
WHY DO YOU DO THAT, ANOMALIE?!?! ARE YOU RETARDED?! You have to be... you have to be! That's the only fucking explanation I can find. Jesus Christ!
Once I got in my car, I kiiiind of chastised myself--a lot like I did just now-- as I realized I'm definitely going to die alone.

Social anxiety/awkwardness is no joke, kids.

Quick hitting

Another one of those moments where there is too much shit going on in my head, accumulated over the last couple of days... that I don't know where to start. I'm also tired from a long couple of days...
So uh... let me try to make it a quick hit.

1. Drunk texts.
They suck... when sent from a self-centered jerk.
I stayed up last night texting back and forth with MGH. He tried making me feel guilty for my trip to Chicago. He's coming down on the 20th with his girlfriend, and he had planned to stay at my place... unbeknownst to me.
He booked the flights, and nothing else, thinking he'd be good with the room to stay because he'd just crash at my place.
I told him I'd be out of town from the 16th until the 23rd, but he leaves the 22nd, so that's useless.
Try reasoning that shit out with a drunk guy who thinks he fucking owns you (because he knows he did at some point, sadly).
I tried to remain friendly... and I did apologize for being so "thoughtless," but I told him I really needed the vacation. I also said that since I had somehow managed to fuck up his girl's birthday, I owed them one for the next time... I mean, my house will always be here... with me probably living in it... until I die or whatever.
But he just started getting vicious on me... using hurtful words and whatnot... so before I started texting mean shit, I turned my phone off and went to bed.
Drunken mind speaks a sober heart, right?

2. Hair cut.
I don't care how many people freak out over the length, I. LOVE. IT.

The joy I get from knowing the haters can't read my blog and see my new haircut.
HA-HA-HA!

If I start feeling bummed, all I have to do is catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I'lll crack a smile. I smile so much, I don't even look like myself.
Good times.
Know who used to play with my long hair? MGH...

3. The Amy Winehouse thing...
It upset me to see how quick people were to joke about the death of a person.
Mooney read me a tweet form RL Stine (I LOVE THAT MAN! He and Shel Silverstein have a special place in my heart. If it weren't for them--and Judy Blume-- I wouldn't have read at all as a kid) regarding celebrity deaths. It pertained to how people tend to mock and ridicule the untimely death of a female (or just their mental instability, a la Britney Spears), however, when it's a male figure, it suddenly turns into a "tragedy" (or they get admired, a la Charlie-Tiger-Blood-Sheen). Which... yeah, it's true. No one laughed or cracked jokes when, say, Heath Ledger ODed... or DJ AM (not saying they SHOULD have), but when Anna Nicole Smith ODed, and now Amy Winehouse unfortunate death, people didn't think twice to mock.
These people had a problem... and no one seemed to be able/want to help them.
That's heartbreaking.
There isn't anything joke-worthy there.
Fuck off and find validation from your peers some other place.

4. Books.
If it weren't for Mooney, I'd be a hardcore neanderthal. I'd refuse to go out and... read a book. I'd be home eating meat, lifting heavy objects, and communicating using only a couple of distinct grunts.
Luckily, I have concerned friends and family who pull me out of the troglodyte cave and reintroduce me to society.

Since Borders is-- sadly-- going out of business, Mooney decided to drag me along to try and BUY a book... since the vast majority of books I own are textbooks which only elicit dry-heaves and some tears from me.
BIOCHEMISTRY! FUCK YOUUUUUU! Oh look! Two codons for phenylalanine!
As we browsed through the store, all I could see was Darcy.
Chuck Palahniuk, Bret Easton Ellis, Anthony Burgess... the entire Jane Austen section... the actual name "Darcy" EVERY-FUCKING-WHERE from those... what are they called, Mooney? Continuations? Those books where other authors go on and write about particular characters... which apparently Darcy is quite the dude to make spin-offs about (that's what I'm calling it, fuck it). I was going crazy.
OK, really, let's stop the madness. I'm trying to lead a normal life here... and this is like, the fucking museum of Darcy... awww... but that is kind of adorable... ok, stop with the creepiness, AnoMALIE.
It was the most massive... Mother of all DD's I've ever experienced.
Nothing like the constant reminder of a person who hardly remembers you're alive.

I did end up walking out of there with two books. It would have been more, but insanity ain't something I fuck with, so I was out pretty quick.
Book stores... sneaky motherfuckers.

5. Future series of posts.
I'm getting kind of shitty at sticking to writing every day. I'm telling myself it's just the summer slump. I'd rather be outside playing in the water with tyson... or getting a tan... or just... playing... than sitting at the lap top, trying to jot down whatever the fuck I'm thinking. Plus, the majority of the summer time, I'm honestly not thinking of a damn thing.
But I do have this series of future posts planned out (most are even typed and saved right now)... but I don't have the heart to add them just yet. It's me, 100 percent me... without joking or sarcasm or cynicisms... it's just ME. I don't think anyone enjoys being that truthful and vulnerable in front of the world... so that series might simmer in the back-burner for now... maybe never see the light of day... but... it might... maybe... make it out. Just maybe... if I'm ever not too... depressed or whatever... and if the secondary portion of it comes to fruition (Jesus Christ... "the secondary portion comes to fruition," Listen to me talk. REALAX, it's not so serious).
Being completely honest with oneself is draining as fuck... and scary.
... but exciting.
Bah!