Fishy Valentine

How's this for a DWEEB:

(Valtentine's day, eating breakfast)
MGH: So... what should we do today... ?
Me: THE MONTEREY AQUARIUM!!!!
MGH: ... o... k...

Once I was at the aquarium, and saw him walking around BORED out of his fucking mind, I realized "AHHHH! It's Valentine's Day!.... and I'm making him stare at fish all day... How fucking stupid can I get?"

Whatever... I had fun.
(Then Karma got me back while bowling later that night. Stupid ass bowling ball with a jagged thumb hole... it cut the shit out of my thumb and broke my nail... piece of shit)

Mensisima

Saturday morning was miserable.
Sure, I love rainy days... but mostly when I'm in the comfort of some sort of heated building.
That being said, here's how STUPID I can be:

My sis purchased Kat Von D's book when it came out in January... two of them, actually.
Since she was born a twin (ok, she wasn't... but we strongly feel she has Vanishing Twin Syndrome, especially since Mom was originally told she was carrying twins during her pregnancy with TravelinDin), she can't do a lot of things by herself... she NEEDS someone by her side.

TravelinDin: Umm... would you mind coming with me to get Katrina's book signed?
Me: Oh, that's who the second book is for?
TravelinDin: Yeah... and the book-signing rules say I can only get one personalized thing from Kat.
Me: .... hmmm... surrrrre....
TravelinDin: Thanks!
Me: But... just watch that day be shitty and rainy... that would suck...

[I should know by now that I should keep my stupid mouth shut... I should get paid for jinxing myself so much]

So here comes Saturday, and its raining buckets outside.
We leave for the 2 PM book signing a little past 12:20 PM with nothing to protect us from the rain but our hoodies.
When we got to the bookstore, we saw the line went all around the building, with not a damn thing to protect us from the elements... but oh, we got to be right in front of the door where Kat Von D was going to be entering the building! Lucky us...

To kill it, there were dumb short females behind me, holding their stupid umbrellas that would pour a waterfall on my sweater... or poke me in the head every three minutes.
I don't know how I managed to be calm and composed for so long... when I really wanted to gouge their eyes out with those bastard umbrellas.

So... we stood in the rain... umbrella-less... with pendejas constantly getting us wet as they chatted away about fucking dumb shit like "OMG... like, I'm training for a marathon... and you would never guess how hard it is!"
Shut the fuck up and keep of me, dumb fuck.

Anyway, at 3 PM I finally get inside the damn building and try to... dry off somehow.
I would grab any part of my sweater and squeeze water out...
My hands were freezing... even purple in parts...
The ass part of my pants was completely soaked (see: dumb cunts with the umbrellas pouring waterfalls onto yours truly)...
and I was shivering, almost uncontrollably.

But FINALLY! I see Kat and Jeff (his name slips my mind... but he's this awesome, eccentric dude that's traveling with Kat, signing the book as well, since he has a part dedicated to him).
I hand my book with the post-it note that reads "Katrina" to the dude standing next to Kat as my sis is getting her book signed.
Kat's apologizing to my sis for 1. making us stand in the rain for so long, and 2. Taking a tiny break in the middle of jotting her name down because she just saw her dad standing next to me (He was saying "That's so cool, Kat... that's so awesome Kat" in a cute little Spanish accent. I turned around to see him because I thought "Dude, what's the deal with this guy?" Only to see Kat look up and scream "YOU GUYS! THIS IS MY DADDY!").
Anyway, after that exchange of love, I was up next.
I stood in front of her, amazed by Jeff's hot-pink eyebrows... and only noticed Kat stretching her hand to shake mine after Jeff's eyebrows moved.

Me: (internally) Wow! those are a shitload of tattooooo..wow!shehassomeverysofthands!!
Kat: Hehe... wow, cool! Do a lot of people call you Kat?
Me: (internally) what?... oh.. umm... fuck... umm... should I say the tru(spoken)... yeah!
Kat: Awesome! That is so cool!
Me: (internally, at Jeff) those are some fucking awesome eyebrows... I love your eyebrows, Jeff... you have beautiful eyebrows!
Kat: There you go, Kat, thanks!
Me: thank you.

....
I.am.a.dick.

I walked out of there totally confused... not even noticing the lady waving the temporary star tattoo in my face... compliments of Kat Von D for Sephora.

So... to sum it all up:
-I stood in the rain for hours, getting completely soaked by dipshit females behind me and their stupid, ugly umbrellas.
-The book I got signed WAS NOT for me.
-I was called by a different name... and acted like it really was mine.
-I didn't talk much to the coolest female alive--aside from Gwen Stefani, of course-- Kat von D, only uttering monosyllabic words.
-I looked like a wet dog when meeting the coolest female alive... and the man with the coolest eyebrows.

I practically get pneumonia in order to do all this... I have a flight to catch on Thursday (oh yeah, I'm doing the bay again from Thursday until Tuesday... I have a problem, I know)...
and...
and this is how I know that:
I AM AN IDIOT.

Stipulations...

Just because I swore off guys for 2009 doesn't mean I can't ogle my hot new trainer... and I can definitely still flirt... right?

(Why the fuck does this shit happen when I swear something off? MAN!)

Resolution

I'm going to be happy starting....
...
.....
......

NOW.
:]

(well, I had actually thought that yesterday, but something happened at the end of the day, and well, it ruined the vibe. But it's all good now)

In Mexico

Today has gone on forever...

I woke up at 6 in the morning.

I still have the cold from hell...

my eyes have been puffballs since... Saturday night.

I haven't seen the gym in 3 fucking weeks! THREE WEEKS!

Yesterday was.. I guess it's called the "wake" in English.

I sat in the front row of the chapel for the majority of the 6 hours my grandpa's body was up there.

I have no clue how many people were there... I know it was too many to count... I saw some of them, but I usually kept my head down whenever I left the chapel thingy for the bathroom. My eyes were a mess, I had no glasses, and my nose was often disgusting, so why look the entire Hometown in the face when I look like that? More than half of those people have never seen adult-ish AnoMALIE without an ounce of eye makeup... less than 5 percent have seen AnoMALIE cry. I wanted to keep it that way.

I did a relatively good job not crying. I only cried three times:

When I first saw my grandpa in our private little "close family" viewing, close to the end when some lady (whose voice I've always claimed to hate) sang a song, then at the very end when I said goodbye for the day.

I cried during the song the hardest.

There was a line about "I'll know it's you when I see the roses... I'll know it's you when I feel the breeze..." and I broke the hell down.

My grandpa loved roses... he planted the ones outside my house in Mexico... they thrived most when they were in his care. God, how he loved those rosebushes. 

So when I heard that, I freaked out and cried... and the breeze line... well... I doubt there's a person out there who doesn't like a slight breeze once in a while.

Today we had an extra hour at the mortuary with Gramps from 8:30 AM until we had to take him to church.

I was cool... up until it came time to see him one last time.

From that moment on I cried... even sobbed when they closed the casket.

Not fun.

Then came mass...

ha.

Our family totally dissed TravelinDin and I. We sat behind the front row we were all supposed to take up. *certain* people wouldn't scoot over.

From that moment on... I wanted to die.

No, not because they made me feel bad... they made me feel furious, but I had to shut the fuck up because I was in church.

The ire made me get so sick, I got those same cramps I would get in college before exams... the ones I get when I'm too anxious.

Well, I tried my best to hold it in (gag reflex is not something I know of... those years with the eating disorer helped with that), but once the service was over, I ran to the bathroom.

I guess everyone noted my absence, and they were furious... waiting for me.

The ride back to the cemetery, and once there, I had everyone pissed at me...

I got the cold shoulder BIG time from everybody.

??

Yeah... that's nice... do that to someone at a funeral, where everyone has their damn feelings shot to fucking hell and the slightest thing can trigger a sobbing attack.

I had to come home early because the pain was unbearable.

I would rush to the bathroom to vomit... then sleep when I wasn't puking... then gave up on sleeping and just played on-line games.

At one point... I do think I said "Oh God... I think I'm gonna die..."

but I'm better.

and I still can't admit my gramps is... you know... it makes me cry.

He's in Mexico... tending the flowers... with my grandma...

atypical wake

Things on the home front have been... weird.

I've seen a little bit of crying...

I only cried Sunday... all the time.

We go to my Dad's youngest sister's house and get together every day. Thats where people have been dropping by to give their condolences.

Typically, we'd be praying and whatnot, but not this time.

My aunts are taken aback by how "skinny" I am... which... clearly they're delusional. They keep asking what my "secret" is.

"Gym, Tia, that's all... also... I've been sick as hell... I usually just eat once a day, if I eat at all... that might have something to do with it."

They also hug me a lot, while saying "look!" as they wrap their arms around me, "Look how I can grab you! Look! My arms wrap completely around you and then some!" All that while others watch...

I've made it my mission to have a cupcake in hand at all times since then.

We're also laughing a lot.

?

We crack jokes, remember funny things  from the past, watch Youtube videos, get buzzed from all the tequila they have in the garage... we even play Guitar Hero.

It makes some sense to act this way, though, since most of us D's (last name) got our sense of humor from this grandpa who just passed away.

He was a freakin' riot in his earlier years. He was a mix of banter and physical comedy... he was sarcastic as well.

Now that he's gone, I'm assuming we're all putting on our best Johnny Carson's and just... making everyone else laugh.

This, of course, throws the visitors off... mainly the "traditional' ones who expect us to all be dressed in All-Black, crying, screaming, praying... looking miserable.

But they see the only screaming being done in the house is by one of us kids going 'FUCK YOUUUUUUUUUU!" when we win/lose on Guitar Hero.

I've also been sick as a dog these last few days. I'm at the stage where I sound like an old lady in the mornings, and a transvestite in the evenings.

Just lovely for when I greet the guests.

My nose is running as well...

I haven't worn an ounce of makeup since Saturday night...

I look like hell... why lie?

And who cares.

Tomorrow's gonna be a very long day...

stop iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!

No matter how much I said I was ready, I wasn't.

I had been told this was going to happen since last month...

an still... I cried... I AM still crying.

My grandfather... the one with the crazy stories about my mom trying to kill him... just died.

I was out... trying to forget he was even sick...

How fucked up is that?

CAN I GET A FUCKING BREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAK?!?!?

FUCK, MAN... I'm tired of this shiiiiiiiiiitt!