Birthday Cake

Today is my Pop's 57th birthday.
Like every year, we had dinner together, chatted, and then ate cake.
However, this year we all took it up a notch and had some wine with our dinner (I HATE wine). I also learned something new about Dad: He never had a birthday cake until he married Mom. She made one for him their first year of marriage, and has done so ever since.
Me: Awwww! Daddy! Not even as a little baby?!
Dad: Never. I didn't even know what a birthday cake looked like.
Me: Daddyyyy!! :(
This made me frown, damn near cry (maybe it was the wine?), and I squeezed daddy's face, then kissed his forehead.

It's easy for me to lose my patience with Dad, call him a troglodyte in the middle of an argument... because I forget about his rough childhood.
His entire neighborhood was poor... so no one there ever had a birthday party... and Dad never hung out with kids from other parts of town, so he never got to see a birthday cake (after telling me all this, he went back to telling me his bicycle story and how he never got one/rode one, all sad. Little Dad really wanted a bicycle as a child... proof being he still remembers that shit on his 57th birthday).
How heartbreaking is that? Makes me feel like shit for taking stuff like that for granted.

So, after getting sad and having my heart break a little more for my pops, I just hugged him violently and bit his cheek... 'cause that's how I do.

I love my dad.


Totally off-topic, but still worth mentioning:
This afternoon, as I drove home from gym-time, I saw a text from Mooney:
MGH!!!!!
Me: What he do?
(I rolled my eyes, expecting to hear some embarrassing shenanigan of his or rude comment from him or something. This kid is unpredictable)
Mooney: He's single
(I almost crashed the car on the Warm Springs' bridge... thanks Mooney! jk)
Me: NO WAY!
Mooney: Yep

I'm crossing my fingers I don't get a message from him soon, 'cause I'm done with that shit... although I help him out at the drop of a dime the moment he needs anything.
I'm a sucker like that.
But I'll only help in making him laugh. None of this flirting shit.

2011, you're being a fuckhead right now.

Apologize to who?

Jesus Christ. 

I officially give up on SPEAKING... or communicating, more like it.

I can't say one fucking thing without someone getting their panties in a knot and causing drama.

This time I have this whole zodiac brouhaha to thank.

Me, being the sarcastic girl I am, posted it on Facebook (the root of my motherfucking problems)... "freaking out." It was OOZING sarcasm. Of course, since too many people don't bother to understand that about me... because all they get is the quiet AnoMALIE who sits at family get-togethers, staring at her phone... or the fucking table cloth of the table I'm forced to sit at for these godforsaken parties. They don't understand that half of what I say is drenched in sarcasm, thanks to the twenty-whatever years I've been forced into being an observer rather than a participant in their tiny little world. I see things, and I exaggerate. 

Yes, I am "entertained" by astrology... but come on. It gives me adjectives I often lack in my repertoire.

I came home tonight to a load of pretentious updates and comments (that I deleted, of course) about how stupid/ignorant people (and I) are for liking astrology (one of these coming from a pizza delivery guy. Which probably pissed me off MOST. This guy thinks he's SO smart, yet his dumbass never had the drive, determination, or dedication to finish a motherfucking semester of community college. Get the fuck out of here trying to scold me, you fucking quitter) and blah blah blah.

Wow really? People are really worried about their zodiac signs changing? First of all it didn't change and second of all there are other major worries in this world! 'Come on maaaaan!

-THANKKK YOUUUUU! Holy fuck! There r more important things in life!

Pause.

We're gonna play this? You suuuuuure?

Ok. 

First, I DO care about other shit in this world. I DO read the news. I DO post about it. But guess what? People DON'T want to hear it. I get the whole "That's toooooo depressing" bullshit. So how the fuck can anyone try to be "worldly" and talk about the horrific floods in Australia (just today I read the story about that boy who gave up his life for his little brother. That made me cry), the incessant narco wars in Mexico (today, I read about this horrible situation that went down on the 28 of December near Hometown, where 60 masked gunmen terrorized an entire town, killed a man, and torched the homes/cars of the townspeople. The people were forced to retreat to the fucking mountains to be saved from the mayhem. News of this didn't break until yesterday. Did you know that, oh Mighty Erudite?), or the tragedy in Arizona (I read about that as well), if too many fucking pansies don't want to be made aware of the misery in the world?

Two: I AM A FUCKING SCIENTIST. The degree hanging in my living room says so. I was subjugated to countless science classes since middle school. I breathed science for way too many years of my life. Don't YOU (pizza maker. Wannabe hustler. Sneaker head. Wannabe-lawyer. Stay-at-home-dad. Strip club bartender) try to patronize/chastise me and talk about "real" science, because I will school the SHIT out of you. Suck. My. Dick.

Three: I AM SARCASTIC! SARCASM! You know who complains about sarcasm? Assholes who are too stupid to understand it... or don't know how to pick up context clues (like the overuse of punctuation marks or eeeeeeeelooooongaaaateeeeedddd words, or preposterous scenarios: "You'd eat babies?!" No, you FUCK! It's called satire! Don't read too deeply into it).

The bomb exploded once I took to my twitter page. 

Me: I love the ppl trying to talk down to me bc of my zodiac post. 1. I have a BIOLOGY degree. 2. I'm sarcastic. Go condescend someone else.

Him: If you even dream of beating me you'd better wake up and apologize.

OH. HELL. NO.

People know how I feel about apologies.

I don't take those shits lightly.

And to demand one form me?

OHHHHHH NOHHHH (there I go with the elongated words. This time I'm not being sarcastic, just furious and loud). NO. NO. NO.

Not gonna happen, son (I've taken on his tone of voice. This is his speak, just FYI).

This guy turns everything into a competition. His entire family does. We've been made aware of various occasions of some of their shit-talking (like: his dad went around telling everybody the only reason my brother joined the army was so that his college tuition could get paid... because we could never afford it on our own. That entire family talked shit about my bro over how "Stupid" he was for joining the military. This guy's brother tried snaking Alo from my brother one summer... and talked mad shit about him to her "Rafa's... so immature. He acts like a boy, not a man." And now with their new house, someone commented on their marble floors, being the opposite color of ours--they have white, we have black-- and he quickly mentioned that ours was laid shitty/shitty condition. Someone once mentioned how Shittalker Dad had a similar truck to MY dad. He quickly dismissed Dad's as shitty because it "made too much noise". It's a diesel engine, you fuck, of course it makes noise. I could go on, but I'm only inciting my own anger now). They turn everything into the one-upping game... even when we AREN'T TRYING. We're just living our life, so we just shrug it off.

SO, I was NEVER trying to "beat" you. I was just saying it like it is: Boy, if you're going to try to talk down to me for "freaking out" over a fucking zodiac change, don't waste your breath. I was joking... and I don't let this shit rule me... I FOLLOW REAL SCIENCE, and if you were in the least informed about me, YOU'D PROBABLY KNOW THAT.

Now shut the fuck up and-- if you're standing-- find yourself a nice place to sit as you wait for my "apology," 'cause that shit ain't EVER COMING. 

ESPECIALLY when you take photos like this: 

What's wrong? WHERE DO I START?!

P.S. My dog is infinitely times cuter/more badass than yours. Uh-oh... did I just agree to this competition? Oooooooh! I think I just did!

Despues de mis 26

A couple of days ago, I was in the process of feeding the dog when Mom came outside to accompany me.
I thought she was going to grill meat or something, but instead, she just told me
Shakira broke up with her boyfriend!
Me: The dude she was dating for so long? Son of Ex-Argentinian President? Weren't they engaged or something?
Mom: Yep. They broke up.
(Moment of silence where we just stare at each other)
Me: ... ok?
Mom: Yep.
Me: ... bummer?
Mom: Yep.

I think she brought it up because recently, I've really taken to signing along to Shakira's "No," especially the part where she says "Espero que no esperes que te espere después de mis 26," which translates to "I hope you don't hope that I wait for you until I'm 26" (but since Spanish is SO much cooler than English, the wordplay doesn't translate). Anyway, each time this song goes on the radio, I sing that part and then frown.
Me: THAT'S ME IN A COUPLE OF MONTHS!
Family member unlucky enough to be riding with me: Ha-ha!!
However, Shakira was waiting on a real person... I'm just reminded of Boyfriends Past who've fucked me up... and I'm GETTING TO THAT FUCKING AGE! I think of it and I feel suffocated. How gross!

Off topic, and on to Rafa:
Lately, I've really taken to texting back and forth with Rafa. It's weird... it's like we actually act like siblings now.
Anyway, we've been talking about his relationship with girls. One girl in particular captures his attention. And from what he tells me, this girl really digs him. Today, he texted me a photo of some brownies she baked for him.
Me: Ask her out, for fucks sake!
Rafa: Be all lame and stupid and say "hey, do you wanna be my girlfriend?" Hell nah!
Me: No need to be so lame. But let her know you like her.
Me: But don't tackle her or anything.
(Back when he first started showing his crush on Alo, we were all around 12-15, and we'd still play tag. One day, when he was "it," and Alo was running for base to be "safe," he lunged at her and tackled her. She took a nasty fall on the not-so-soft sand. She fell on her knees, and she was wearing shorts. She started to bleed, which made her cry. We were all like "YOU FUCKING ANIMAL!" and he felt like shit for a couple of days)
Rafa: I'm trying to find the right time.
Me: Does she at least know you have a thing for her, or are you being all naco like Dad?
Rafa: You want me to gush over her brownies or something?
Me: You're grabbing that girl in a headlock and giving her nuggies, aren't you?
Rafa: YEEEEEEEEE niggaaaa!
Me: Don't be a pussy. She's going to find herself another guy who's uglier and dumber than you. Try to feel good after that.
Rafa: I just have to be sure.

I don't understand that shit. This girl goes out of her way to let him know she likes him (who the fuck bakes a guy brownies out of the blue all because she hears him talk about his elementary school addiction to the damn things?!), she's doing everything in her power to catch his attention, all she needs to say is "YO! RAFA! I like YOU! ASK ME OUT!!!!" AND STILL he hesitates.
I understand the trepidation if he wouldn't like the chick, but he does. Yes, he's still recovering form the Alo-marriage-heartbreak thing, but come on... when the opportunity to move on presents itself, why not take it? She likes you, you like her, what the hell, yo?
That shit drives me bananas (I'm one to talk... I turn into a mute when in the presence of a dude I dig... but then again, if I know he likes me, I'm cool with being straightforward... so I don't understand why Rafa is being so freakin' lame and wrecking his chances like that. Idiot).

To end on a happy note:
What doesn't bug me about boys? Their sense of humor kills me.

"... oh, he's coming."

:)
... and I used to think honey bears were cute.

Twelve elevens

I've decided I'm going to wish every eleventh day of the month this year.

Have I mentioned that I LOVE my city? Courtesy of Sister

Perfection right there.
I've always been a fan of 12:34 AM/PM, but I guess I can switch it up for this year, and this year only, to be like every other girl out there who wishes on that 11:11 thing.

Anyway, this gives me 12 wishes for the year.
My most massive wish will be done in November, obviously, so for now I'll go off and wish for stuff like... wait, today IS pretty cool, with the 1/11/11 thing going on... so I guess I have to make it sort of ambitious, right?
Is it OK if I share the wishes each time? Will it be like the birthday wishes when blowing out candles that don't come true if you mention them to anyone?
No, right?
Right.

Here we go, wish numero uno (dos, technically, since I wished on the first of the month):
I wish...
oh gosh... the pressure to make a good wish is intense...
I wish... please, please, please get into one of the schools I'm applying to... please? And since we're going ambitious, please make it on the west coast... 'cause New York is classy and all, but the weather sucks dick... and the cost of living is a nightmare. I don't want to resort to hustling in order to make ends meet while I'm out there.

So yeah... that's my wish.
Make it happen, 1/11/11.

Refused to answer

I have a friend who makes me go paralyzed with fear each time she calls. Is that normal?

She's a writer for the local news... on a channel named after an animal... that one.
Each time she contacts me, I nearly piss my pants from the anxiety.
No, not because she has such an "important" job... not because she's married to the "celebrity" that is the weatherman of said local news (last time I hung out with her, she said this, verbatim: I'm going to ask *weathermanhusband* if he's OK with meeting you guys first before bringing him around. Relax, homie... he's not Jake Gyllenhaal... I'm not going to hyperventilate because I met a fucking weatherman. I'm not that enthused by meteorologists... take it down a notch, please)... but because she's batshit crazy.

Now, people might say AnoMALIE, what way is that to express yourself about a "friend?" 
To which I say Dude...  no... this girl... she's hella cool one second, then the next she's threatening to strangle you to death.
I've known her since my middle school years, so I know how rad this girl can be. She's hilarious, she beats me in the sarcasm department, and she's freakin' gorgeous (hey, not that I swing that way, but I call it how I see it. This girl is that type of pretty where she's stunning even without makeup).
I didn't know she was crazy until we were in college and she called my house to chew us (Sis and me) out over us supposedly telling everyone (by "everyone" I mean "her boyfriend") her father was a druglord (yeah, it's that girl). Once we asked around (we had to go to every person involved. And each one gave the same account: THE BITCH IS CRAZY! SHE was the one to say "Oh! It was AnoMALIE and Sister! They've always hated me!" Her boyfriend doesn't even know you guys!), that's when I was made aware of the degree of this girl's mental instability. She's insane.

Anyway, last night I went out without my phone. Once I returned, I saw I had a missed call from InsanePrettyGirl, and worse yet... voicemail from her.
Fuck... what did I do now?
I won't lie, I panicked. I felt as if someone had placed a gun against my back.
I listened to her message, pretty much holding my breath while closing my eyes.
"Hello AnoMALIE, it's InsanePrettyGirl. I'm calling you from my house number, so that must be why this number is unfamiliar to you, and refused to answer. I have a couple of questions to ask you, so I would appreciate it if you could call me back as soon as possible. You can reach me at my house number, *number* or my cell phone number, which is *number*. Thank you."
I leave people messages like "yo, it's AnoMALIE. Hit me up as soon as you get this. K?" and here this girl's sounding like my fucking elementary school principal asking for a parent-teacher conference to discuss my obscene responses to English assignments.

I have her phone numbers... so... the fact that she gave me both was a little intimidating, not to mention the whole "you refusing to answer" thing... she called me ONCE... what the fuck?
Shit must be serious. Oh my God... is she going to sue me for slander or something?

After a couple of deep breaths (and making the sign of the cross a couple of times) I called back.
She wanted information on grad school.

Girl scares me so much, she damn near gives me diabetes.
::shudder::

Anyway, totally off-topic, and to end things on a positive note (that's still sort of... "meh" because regardless, I still detest Argentina): BIG, BIG day for team Barça today :)
Yesssss sirrrrr!
If only Messi were... Mexican or something... shit, even Salvadorian. But alas, gotta take the good with the bad.
Ok, no more soccer talk. I can get annoying with it, just like with my poker talk.
I might as well be a dude sometimes.

Chart me

Since I suck at explaining who I am, I'll let this Natal Chart thing-a-ma-bob speak for me (some side commentary if I feel like it). It's kind of right... which is SCARY.

-She is compassionate and sentimental. She likes isolated occupations: administration, archives, history. Spirit of self-sacrifice. (Yes. I like ISOLATION. And I'm self-sacrificing to a RETARDED degree)
-Influenced by the family, especially the mother. Proud, self-confident, she has faith in her future and is ambitious. (if you met my mother, you'd understand)
-She is intelligent and knows what she wants. Is a good organizer, she likes moving, travel. She likes literature. (I like literature as much as I like toothaches)
-She is aware of the goal to be achieved. She is strong, and always picks herself up after a setback. (I may grovel for a second, but I get over it. As for my strength, I was pretty much built to be able to wrestle water buffalo with my bare hands... although... water buffalo aren't indigenous to Mexico. I can also stiff arm like Marshawn Lynch)
-She is likable and sociable. Very sensitive to environmental conditions and surroundings. She likes home, habits, comfort and her little world. (I AM NOT sociable OR likable. Strangers have a tendency to dislike me for NO reason)
-Weaknesses: subject to family circle, indolence, inertia. She is impressionable and too sensitive.
-She has a tendency to bad dreams. Is interested in the occult. (and I subject anyone who will listen to my horrific dreams)
-She lacks firmness, she is weak and lazy. She likes to live in a dream, in the imaginary. (YOUR MOM is weak and lazy, biiiitch!)
-She wavers between a rich and successful love life and social success. She has difficulty in succeeding in both. (BINGO!)
-Weaknesses: melancholy, gullibility. Tendency to illusions, fears and apprehensiveness. (I am the QUEEN of gullibility)
-Brief passions. Bursts of friendship or embracing of causes that cannot be justified or which turn out not to be what they promised at the start. Becomes drunk with love or passion.  ("Becomes drunk with love or passion?" HAHAHAHA! Riiight.)
-Independent in love. Her love life is rich, but with passing love affairs. She tires quickly and is scared of losing her liberty. If she marries, she will regret it. She has that little something that attracts the opposite sex: she likes amorous adventures, she is romantic. She is the eternal lover and, of course, is unfaithful if she has a serious relationship. She likes art, anything new. (WTF?! I'm unfaithful? Who the fuck wrote this? They're getting stabbed)
-She is aggressive, offensive, impulsive, provoking. She is bold and adventurous. (In case my previous stabbing comment didn't convey this enough)
-Weaknesses: aggressiveness, boldness that can lead to violence, or to an accident, but certainly leads to problems. (kickboxing story, anyone? I blame being raised with such a violent older brother and Mom's very physical approach to parenting for this. But I will say this: I never instigate the violence)
-Spontaneous nature. She likes games, sometimes even violent sports. (ok, ok, I'm violent. Quit harping on that shit)
-Ambivalent feelings, generous, philanthropic. She is tolerant and indulgent.
-She has good judgement, a sense of values, an open and optimistic mind, a good education and high moral standards. She likes studying. Her professional work is a vocation and plays a great part in her life.
-She is methodical, patient, distrustful, polite. She speaks little and does not waste energy unnecessarily. She has a good memory and sense of organization, likes to do things well. She is never slapdash and has a sense of responsibility. (MONEY! Spot on)
-Observant, self-controlled, unforgiving, tough, methodical, a researcher, an investigator. Lots of courage, self-assurance and can keep her cool. (I forgive, but I don't forget. And I do keep my cool... until someone hits me for the fourth time and I just have to strike back)
-She is serious, sober, thoughtful, pays attention to detail. She likes to be with older people. (I don't mind older company. They have a tendency to dig me, and I dig right back)
-She is shy, delicate but proud, bold and lively. (initially shy and all that junk, then after a bit I get all annoying and whatnot)
-She is discerning, wise and sensible. (eh... I guess)
-Nothing is left to chance, everything is calculated, dissected slowly and methodically, twice rather than once, in peace and quiet by herself. She is introverted, and doesn't speak about her plans until they are underway. (Could not have said it better myself. Ever since elementary school, one of my biggest pet peeves is getting asked about my future plans-- those stupid assignments asking me what I planned on doing over break would always exasperate me and lead me to ask "What's it to you? It's none of your business." I'd rather get pistol whipped than go on about my plans. I keep those babies under lock and key... or on my blog)
-With lofty feelings, she is full of tenderness, sentimentality. Things do not always go her way. (hence why I detest talking about my plans with others. I hate being pitied when things don't go how I plan. Nothing feels worse than the pity of others. Nothing.)
-A meeting with a person who is either not free (WHAAAAT?!), too young or from a different family or social background means that living together will be done in the utmost secrecy while waiting for the chance to legalize the situation quietly, without any trouble. This state of affairs will make her melancholy (no shit?). A lovely little family will result from this union. (What. The. Fuck? I'm going to be a... home-wrecker? A pedophile? What the hell?!)
-Marries for love but also well financially. A peaceful union even if exchange of ideas isn't always smooth. (i.e. I will call my husband a "motherfucker" at least ONCE in our relationship. That's a given.)
-If she is a writer, a painter or involved in another of the Arts, and if fame doesn't come when living, then it will come posthumously. (well... that's comforting... NOT)
-Take care of the lungs - if a smoker, then it is advisable to stop. (I've ALWAYS been paranoid about my lungs... one of the reasons I chew out people who smoke around me)
-All the leadership qualities are there: authority, sense of organization, initiative, intelligence, but also thanks to outside help. She is a fighter. (Christina Aguilera told me so)
-Discussing ideas is not her cup of tea. Her knowledge is the result of study but also of the down-to-earth nature that characterizes her. (Yep)
-Marriage doesn't bring luck, honors come as she imagined they might. (What the fuck does this mean?)

They should have just summed it all up like this:
You're emotional, sensitive, and VIOLENT. Oh yeah, you TOTALLY shouldn't get married... avoid that shit... it'll fuck you up.

Sitting down

If you're going to call me at 12:45 AM, and open with "AnoMALIE... are you sitting down?" one of two things:
1. Someone better be dead.
2. Someone better have caught my boyfriend banging some slut.
Being that I'm guy-less, I was expecting answer number one.

I was sore as hell last night, all I wanted to do was rest and forget about my aching body (I'm getting old... fuck).
I was in bed, watching the first half-hour of Jimmy Fallon, when I heard my phone go off.
Jesus Christ... who's dead?!
I scrambled to get to my phone, my heart racing, and Pacemaker's voice greeted me with that stupid line once I answered.
Me: Yes... why? Are you crying?!
Pacemaker: Girl. Do we have some news for you!
I was being conference-called by Pacemaker and Lau... to gossip... about their extended family.
... and I care because... ?
They went on for an hour, talking about the shit they had to deal with over the week.
Their grandma is very ill, in her final days now, but that wasn't the point. Their family is going through some he-said-she-said bullshit... and somehow, MY name was thrown into the mess. Why? Because their family drama originated at my grandfather's funeral... which was exactly two years ago today. I'm supposedly a witness.
Dude... it was my grandfather's funeral. If anything, I tried REALLY hard to forget everything that happened that day. I was fucked up. My eyes were so puffy I couldn't really see... all I could think about was the fact that those were going to be the last hours I was going to spend seeing and touching a man who made me laugh my entire life... and somehow I was supposed to catch you guys bickering and care about it? Wow.
Supposedly I'm getting a call from Pacemaker and Lau's aunt (the bitch who won't let shit go) sometime this week to "verify" Lau's story. What a hassle.

A story about my backstabbing, whore-humping boyfriend would have been so much better.
I think I'll get one just to have that base covered for the next time I get a late night phone call asking me what position I'm in.