Here's to very long titles in almost everything you do

I think I listened to too much Panic! at the Disco and
Fall Out Boy in my time away from home (I think that had a lot to do with the TINY amount of home-sickness I felt over there towards the end of my stay)...
Why? Because I made the title to this (Made-in-Spain, after I looked through a Bridal magazine and found a dress I liked better than the one I'm supposed to wear in June) sketch Not SO Stupid dress I COULD be excited about... :)

... Yeah... I'll quit doing that shit from now on.

(Totally off-topic: I'm so sad it's May!!)

Employment

Me: I got a job offer today...
Dad: Really?!
Me: Yeah... and it's biology-related, too.
Dad: That's great!
Me: Yeah... and I didn't even apply for it... the guy just called me up and said he was giving me an "over-the-phone" interview because he got my information from... I think he said this one lady that came to the job fair two months ago... but I never gave her my number... they must really want me.
Dad: Oh, wow...
Me: But... the job's in Salt Lake City.
(Moment of silence)
Dad: Look... I'l pay you not to take the job.

AHAHAHAHA!
My Dad's hatred for SLC amuses the shit out of me.
I mean, the job offer story is totally true (Chase gave them my info)... and while I'm not really interested (well, if this offer would have been made in September, I'd probably be game just to see what it's like, but not now, when I have a wedding to attend and my godkid's high school graduation in June... and of course, my Mexico trip as well. I'm not giving that up for anything in the world) I just told Dad the story because I knew he'd flip (I just didn't do it as he was eating, but rather, as he was peeling prickly pears).

Dad should really chill out.... it's not like it's FRANCE or anything.

As long as it's free...

Yesterday afternoon, as I stood around waiting for my friend to come by and meet me for the Tina Fey movie we both wanted to watch because "I love her writing!!", some woman approached me about a free movie screening coming up this Thursday.
I accepted... of course... especially since movies nowadays cost 10 bucks after 6 PM and this bitch is gonna be at 7... and I got four free tickets.

However, I almost didn't accept.
What made me accept?
Not knowing which movie I'm going to watch.

"I can't tell you which movie it's going to be, all I'm at liberty to say is that it's going to be one of the summer blockbusters this year. Still interested?"

Hell fucking yeah, I am, now that it's a coin toss!

I HATE blockbusters... like... hate with a passion.
It's usually one of the number one reasons I'm glad to be in Mexico for most of the summer.
(I AM guilty of watching Transformers last year, however... and War of the Worlds back in '05... but they all have reasonable explanations)

BUT! The other day, that I once again went to the movies (fuck, I'm picking up the habit again!), I saw something that made me feel, well, bad:

The new Hulk Movie... plus Edward Norton... equals Edward Norton as THE HULK.

Jigga wha.... how the... you're telling me... Edward Norton actually agreed to do this?
WTF? What happened to America while I was gone?
You know I gotta see this now, right?

So... when this lady approached me about "a summer blockbuster" I quickly weighed the pros and cons of the situation
Well... I AM going to Mexico an entire month earlier than last year... and... Edward Norton made THE HULK... and I'm NOT giving them any money... ok... let's do it.

Nothing about my agreement bothered me, because I kept thinking about other possibilities, and none bugged me too bad.
Hancock? Ok... Will Smith is cool.
That one movie Mooney wants to watch... something about Twilight or whatever? Whatever... if she digs it, I don't see a problem... as long as it's not J.K. Rowling related... cause I hate that pompous bitch.

Then last night it came to me like... a... really bad nightmare:
Iron Man.

I'm screwed.
It's gonna be Iron Man.... 'cause, with my luck, that kind of shit only happens to me.

Mushy stuff

Last night turned out to be a mushy love-fest.

Instead of going straight to the "Bridal Shower" (how decent) at 5 in the afternoon, I hung out with Chase for a while.
I then went to church...
Hung around in the church parking lot...
Anything to avoid going straight to the shower.

Well... once I ran out of excuses, I headed to the place.

That's when the love-fest began.
I was oddly... kind to everyone. I went through the trouble of greeting everyone (which weren't too many folks, they were in the process of leaving when I showed up at 8:30), and I even hugged a good percentage of them.
(Shocker!! I know!)

That's when the bride-to-be aka my childhood best friend came over to hug me... and it was one of those hugs where the people sway from side to side all excited... like they haven't seen each other in age (She actually said "I haven't seen you in ages!! Look at your hair!").
She then told me how glad she was to see me because:

I was upset thinking my best friend wasn't going to show up! But you did!!

....
....
O...K...
Thanks...
Thanks for making me feel like a douche for avoiding your party for a second there...
Fuck, I'm a terrible person.

So, after that mushy exchange, she told me to grab some food and take a seat to watch her open the gifts.
I ate as fast as possible, then gave her my undivided attention.
She opened about 10, then she reached my gift.

She grabbed the card I had written:
(giggled) Oh! Listen to this!! Haha!
"It was just yesterday when you were the little girl who taught me how to cross the street. Now you're taking that giant step to becoming a bona fide adult."
(Her voice breaks)
"Wish you all the luck in the world, and the happiest marriage a woman can have..."
(Hard core crying now)
"Nadie se lo merece mas que tu!" (no one is more deserving than you)
(Now I'm crying... everyone else is looking at us with pity... "Awwing" all over the place)
"Love you! Tus Primas, TravelinDin y AnoMALIE"

This was all recorded... and it was terrible, because I guess Bride-to-Be thought it was going to be a funny card... because obviously I don't know how to write anything heart-warming and touching... then BAM! It backfired and I had her made into a river of tears and sobs... and she brought me down right along with her.

Damn AnoMALIE... not knowing the strength of your own writing... dumb ass.

However, I didn't think she was going to be saddened by what I wrote because I wrote it two minutes before running out my front door to meet up with Chase.

Anyway, the party ran until 9:30 PM... and everyone there was pretty freakin' nice. Not a single person asked me about my relationship status... I did get a couple "So, AnoMALIE, how've you been? Missing TravelinDin much?"
To which I'd retort
"Nah, I just came back from spending a month with her all over Europe... I'm cool."

Come on now, I have to be a snot to people sometimes.
(Why does everyone think I'll crumble when away from my siblings? Sheesh, people, I'm no wanker)

Then I headed on over to my aunt's house to do some serious "catching-up" about... so many topics... I laughed at her place until around 12 AM, when I started falling alseep on her floor (she has a new puppy I like playing around with... it's this sort of tea-cup labrador thing... I get on the floor to play with the little creature... and since I'm now an old lady after my return from Spain, my body gets tired around 10 PM, and 12 AM is really pushing it).

Ah, yes... family life... how mushy.

Cue: Nightmares

I found myself thrashing all over the place last night.
It's been one of the most uncomfortable nights as of recently (even more uncomfortable than the sleep I had in Bilbao... where I'd sleep on the floor on some sort-of-a-futon-but-not-really-a-futon thing... with mosquitos flying rampant and getting me real good on the arms... and that stupid kid always running upstairs at ungodly hours as his parents blast "oldies" starting at six in the morning on weekends).

I blame it on the fact that I spent most of last night wrapping my hairdresser/cousin/childhood bestfriend's gift for her bachelorette party that's going to be held later on today.
I procrastinate... we all know that... and this gift I've had in the office since Tuesday afternoon... but I decided to wrap it last night with gift wrap I first thought to be the most adorbale thing ever created because it had glittery wedding dresses, flowers, cakes, bells, and tuxedos drawn... only to find out how much glitter fucking sucks and gets in the most unexpected places.
I required the aid of my mother before the glitter got in my eye and blinded me.

Anyway, as I wrapped that ten pound (felt like 50) box of non-stick pans, I felt unbelievably sad.
It hit me: One of my best friends is getting married.... how sick.

Sure, the realization also hit me hard as Mom and I shopped for my buddy's wedding present. As I looked through the 19 pages of Sears products... I started feeling sad.

Fuck! She thought of everything! She even thought of a hamper! A hamper! Now I want a hamper...

(also... why do people need so many fucking trashcans? I counted a total of six for both places she's registered. Really? Four $16 trashcans and two $30 trashcans? Why? But I won't complain... one of my cousins not too long ago asked for a 90 dollar trashcan... which REALLY worked me up at the store, I still have that piece of paper somewhere, to show everyone "This motherfucker wanted a 90 dollar trashcan! Can you believe that? Who the hell does he think he is? Jay-Z?!")

But last night it was more pronounced...
Fuck! This is for real! She's really gonna do this!
So yeah, I wrapped the gift, tried getting the glitter off me... then went to bed.

Most of my nightmares consisted of me running away (although, one I clearly remember having to do with my brother getting a hold of my two hand-written diaries with the help of TravelinDin. I go off on both of them, demanding how far they read, almost maiming the shit out of them in my fit of rage. I woke up thinking "Oh man! I need to burn those diaries!"). One of the times I woke up, I was lying with my legs hanging off the side of the bed, since I'd made a 90 degree turn on the bed.
Another time I could almost swear I woke up saying "No!" and panting... I was definitely sweating, but I blame that on the weather.

I don't know if I just loathe the idea of getting married... or the idea of growing up... or the idea that I'm doing neither.

Here we go... I'm ready (no I'm not) for the fucking annoying questions older women are going to be throwing at me during this thing (I freaking KNOW Hairdresser/Cousin/Childhood Bestfriend is going to be on her A-game... she's always on when there's a crowd... fuck).
"So, AnoMALIE, when are you getting married?"
"Hey, AnoMALIE, why haven't we ever seen you with a boyfriend?"
"So, what do you do AnoMALIE?"

Never. I don't need one. Nothing!!!

It's moments like these where I hate being Mexican.

... and it continues!!

MORE weird shit just happened!!

Some dumb motherfucker almost knocked down the front door knocking like a fucking maniac!!
(Dad told me this as I stepped in the house from the gym. I saw the people leaving, saw some of the cement that surrounds the door freshly removed and on the floor, and asked what was up)

Dad answered the door with a knife in his hand (he was cooking at the time the pounding began, he didn't think to put it down).
It was this regular, middle-aged white dude, red with rage, huffing and puffing, as his Asian wife tried looking tough/mean behind him... scowling.
That changed to slight worry once they saw a white/sort of tall Mexican answer the door... holding a knife.

Man: WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM?! YOUR CAR ALMOST RAN MY WIFE OFF THE ROAD!!!!!
Dad: Which car?
Man: THAT BLUE ONE IN YOUR DRIVEWAY!!
Dad: When?
Man: JUST NOWWWW!!
Dad: Who said this?
Man: MY WIFE!!!
Wife: Yes!! A young guy was dirving that car fast down the road and wanted to drive me off the road just now!!
Dad: Well... that's weird... because, one: No young man lives here. Two: I drive that white truck you see out there, three: No one else is home... so no one has driven that car in over a day...
(Man stares angrily at his retard for a wife)
Man: You said it was this car!
Wife: Well... a car that... looked like that...
Dad: And finally- NO ONE comes to MY HOUSE and knocks like that.
Man: I'm sorry...
(Dad slams the door in his face)

I say, if you're going to be such a fucking macho man, you better make sure your cunt whore of an imbecile for a wife gets her shit straight.
How the fuck can you confuse my sister's Jetta for another one... when she has her Jetta decked out in Notre Dame stuff???
If you're going to bust down someone's front door with your bare hands, that's a pretty fucking big committment, so I assume you're ready to die, Leonidas.
That type of fucking shit gets you killed if you fuck with the wrong people...

Disrespect my dad at his house? Fuck you! Why don't you hop in your stupid car and REALLY get rammed off the road... near an icy ditch, dumb motherfuckers.

And teach your dumb cunt how to differentiate between cars next time, asshole... teach her how to get a licence plate number next time someone endangers her very "precious" life... you know... those little rectangles at the rear, often front, of an automobile.


People... WHAT. THE. FUCK?
Bajenle a sus huevos, pendejos.

This isn't (Eerie) Indiana

So, once again, something strange happened yesterday.

First off, the dead guy turned out to be from around Hometown, just not exactly Hometown. I don't know him, but my dad does. The guy's family was contacted, and that was the end of that bizarre incident.

On to strange incident number two:
Yesterday afternoon, we received a phone call asking for my brother (they said his full name).
Mom said he wasn't in the country, then the lady on the other end said
"Well, can I talk to Ivana Dos Santos*?"
Mom: I think you have the wrong number...
Lady: Is she not in?
Mom: No... no Ivana lives here...
Lady: But this is the number I was given...
Mom: No Ivana lives here... my son's name is Brother*, but there's no Ivana living here.
Lady: Well, this is the number I get for the address they left...

So the lady gets my mom to tell her our address (so dumb... well, at least, I think it's dumb to do so over the phone).
The lady agrees that it's not the address given to her.
She then tells Mom about Ivana and Brother's* three month old son that has undergone medical tests and how one of them came out suspicious, so they need to bring the boy back for further testing.
Mom: Well, that sucks... but I don't know who you're talking about... you have the wrong person.

So we leave it at that.
Later on in the afternoon, however, we get the mail.
One of the letters came from a doctor's office... psychiatry department, I think.
It was intended for:
The Parents of Baby Boy Dos Santos*
Ivana and Brother* Dos Santos*

???

While I know mistakes happen quite fucking often...
This is really pissing me off....
Brother better not have gone off and had some random ass kid without us knowing...
(I'm kidding, I'm not THAT paranoid... but shit, they need to quit calling... and what kind of fucking parents give the wrong personal information at a hospital?!? And what parent hasn't given their 3 month old child a name?!)

* Not actual name, obviously

P.S. In happier, more normal news: I'm now the very happy owner of the first season of Flight of the Conchords.
Meeeeeeeeeeemorieeeeeeeeeees! (Hey, since all I got myself from London was a stupid keychain--I take that back, it's not stupid, since it's Manchester United's crest-- I can at least remember those couple of hours I spent at my brother's flat, where I kept zoning in and out of consciousness only to laugh at some of those songs that Bret and Jemaine would bust in to)