More reasons to be quiet:

As incredible as this may sound, I'm a rather private person (you areeeee?? Wow. Would have never guessed with your BLOG and all).
Part of it is due to my extreme shyness (something I was born with, I suppose... because I can never remember being outgoing... except for this little stint in first grade where teachers had me parading around dancing to salsa music dressed like Chiquita Banana--I have video footage of that shit-- but that wasn't just me. There were about 7 other little girls and 8 little boys... and we'd dance for white people... yeah... inner city Latino kids dancing at important meeting to make hoighty-toighty businessmen look... tolerant of others... while us poor inner city kids felt like monkeys on a string. How horrible.), but I also keep to myself because others just love putting your shit on blast once they find something out.

Talking shit about others is like... a second job for some people in my Mexican town.
Knowing this, I opt not to let these people know jack about me.

If I went out and surveyed the people from my town about things they knew about me, this would pretty much be the list:

1) She has a younger sister that is very pretty, and an older brother that's very tall (we're talking about Mexicans here. Any guy above 5'9" is considered "tall." Eduardo Najera's a fucking anomaly there... a freaking circus freak).
2) Her brother went to Iraq and Afghanistan (which he did not but I can't get that through their heads. He went to Korea and Guam... two countries most people--where I'm from at least-- don't even know are countries).
3) She's really shy and quiet.
4) She doesn't like parties (yeah... because 98% of them are fucking Laaaaaaaaame).
5) She doesn't dance (one of my favorite misconceptions... especially when they think I don't dance because I don't know how... or I don't have rhythm... I LOVE that! Especially since they don't care to know I'm a violinist).
6) She's never had a boyfriend (They say this because I've never been involved with a boy from my part of Mexico. As rude as this may sound, with the boys from Mexico, I wouldn't even hold hands--in a romantic sense. Why get involved with a drunk/drug addict/womanizer? Fuck that. I'll die alone before I ever start taking care of a waste of a human like that).
7) Her parents are strict (Gee, I wonder what ever gave them that idea?).
8) She's a really good girl.
9) She's really studious (I suppose...).
10) She looks sad all the time (if in my shoes, wouldn't you be as well?).
11) She lives in a mansion (ha-ha-ha)
12) She's loaded (ha-ha-ha)
13) She never misses mass... although she never takes communion...
14) She likes animals (::sheepishly:: yeahhh... I do).
15) She mean-mugs people (yeahhh... I do).
16) She hates smokers and drunks (yeahhh... I do).
17) Don't ever piss her off (they've seen me get into a verbal/physical altercation with Sister/Brother/Girl-ten-years-my-senior at the park).
18) She wears dresses/skirts only to church.
19) She's tall with big tits that she tries to hide by wearing sports bras and layered shirts or sweaters.
20) She has big lips--that I bet are fake-- and big eyelashes--which I know aren't fake because I've pulled them before.

Anyway, sometimes I'm so caught up with covering my tracks and being as secretive as possible, that even my own family gets mystified by my existence.

Last night was a great example of that.

Mom and I visited her sister (my aunt's live-in daughter-in-law was there too) since we hadn't seen her since July, and the night turned into this weird... The View thing.
The hot topic of the night was marriage (yey... hooray...).

Auntie started talking about how she felt that if she had another chance at life, she would have done many things differently... especially romance-wise. Auntie began talking about her married life and how she sort of regretted some aspects of it. Her husband was her first boyfriend... first kiss. etc, etc (etc's that I'd rather not know about but she always manages to give me TMI... she's the same lady I had the condom conversation with a while back). The conversation went a little like this:

Aunt: I don't know... I mean... if I could do it all over again... I'd definitely do things a lot differently.
Mom: Why?
Aunt: I don't know... I just... now that I'm old, I wish I could have known what it's like to kiss another man... you know... taste another man.
Me (internally): Ay tia! Don't get that freaking mental image in my head!
Mom: Hmm... I don't doubt you now wish that more than ever... considering the new rules of dating!
Auntie: Especially now, knowing the new rules of dating.
Mom: Like how now people are no longer "novios de manita sudada" (literally "boyfriend/girlfriend of sweaty hand" you know... because back then all they ever did was hold hands) and they now go all the way...
Auntie: Yes!!!
Mom: (grossed out face... kind of in disbelief, too) I was kidding! Look at you! OMG!
Me (internally): Thank God my uncle's asleep right now...
Auntie: Well, you don't know what it's like! You had more than one boyfriend before you married your husband, didn't you?
Mom: ...yes...
Auntie: And you kissed more than just one guy... right?
Mom:... yes... I... had a couple of "little kisses"
Me: Ewwwwww... don't you go around talking about that.
Auntie: You had... *Guy We Still See Around And Who Is Bald As Fuck Now*, you had... *Guy Mom Traumatized By Lying To Him And Agreeing To Marry Him Once He Came Back From The States And When He Did She Was Already Married To Dad So Now This Guy Has Refused To Marry Another Woman And He Now Leads A Sad Lonely Life Caring For His Aging Mother*, you had...
Me: Yaaaaaaaaaa! No more... don't you mention those men in my presence!!
Mom: What? They were good guys!
Me: Lalalalala...
Auntie: Why?
Me: Moving onnnnnn....
Me (internally): I fucking damn the moment I sat at this table...
Auntie: I didn't have anyone! I just... held hands... held hands!!
Mom: So... at least your husband can feel proud knowing you only had eyes for him...
Auntie: But I'm not wrong in wishing I could have kissed... tasted... other men, right AnoMALIE?

(Quiet... everyone seems to wait for my answer as if I hold some PhD on this subject)

Me: Well... um... at least you never knew the pain of getting heartbroken... ???
Mom: Yeah... and then feel stupid about having kissed So-and-so.
Me: Yeah... and you never got your heart broken (AnoMALIE's a broken record, in case you've never noticed).
Cousin-in-Law: And there won't be any room for comparisons...
Auntie: No, no. AnoMALIE... imagine (I loved how she said "imagine" as if I've had 50 men in my life and it'd now be too difficult to remember "innocent days." Fantastic. Ok, Auntie, I'll try my hardest to "imagine" being innocent) how would you feel if you had to go around for the rest of your life knowing you were only going to kiss... hug... feel... this one guy... ever. No other guys in your life... ever. Just this one guy... the first guy you ever dated. The only guy who ever had the guts to ask you out on a date. After a while, wouldn't it make you wonder what other guys are like?
Me (internally): Holy cow... what the hell? Auntie... you've been hanging out with the Salvadorean ladies at work for too long.
Me: Umm... I guess... not really. I'm kind of jealous of what you and my uncle have.
Auntie: But try and imgaine you've never kissed anybody before!!!
Me (internally): Shit... my kisses are worth fucking gold! I don't just give those shits out for free in the first place.
Me: Yeah, I'm trying (I almost got the hiccups right here from holding in my laughter for so long)... I say it because... umm... well, that'd mean I was lucky enough to find my husband on my first try... so... I wouldn't be bothered knowing I never had to kiss any toads to find prince chanrming... and... he'd never be able to... recriminate me for my behavior with previous guys... so I guess it's a win-win situation...
Mom: How are you giving advice... when have you had a boyfriend or kissed a guy??
Me (internally): Fuck. This. Table.
Me: ::shrug:: uhhh... when... I... was 6... ???
Mom: Whennnnnnnnn?
Me (internally): Think fast... think fast...
Me: ::smile:: Who... said... I... I'm... only... "imagining."
Auntie: The girl's 22 years old, Comadre, you'd be a fool to think she's never kissed guys before.
Mom: She's never brought anyone home... so she's never had a boyfriend... so where'd she kiss these people?
Me: No, no, no, no... Mom... I'm...
Me (internally): Fucked...
Cousin-in-law: You've never had a boyfriend?!?!
Me (internally): Fuck. This.Table.

*Note to self*: Sometimes it's best to keep your shit to yourself. Also, watch out for Mom and Auntie... you'll end up the loser in that tag-team grilling.

New Rules: Enforcement Update.

Hear, ye! Hear ye!

Due to recent events (::cough:: some bitch ass neighbor who appealed ::cough::), my New Rules will not be in effect until Halloween of this year.

That's right, ladies and gentlemen... I have postponed my drastic change in friendship policies for another three months (maybe I can come up with a possible future-boyfriend policy within the next 3 months... but... I don't really... boyfriends just aren't in my immediate future. Trust me, I don't see any guy liking me in that sense for... hmm... years. I'm such a child.... ew, which could possibly attract pedophiles... sick).

So... if you want these new rules to not effect the way in which we go about our business, homies, you best get to steppin'. Especially since you technically have 2 months to get on my good side because I'll be out of the country for one month starting in a little over a week from now.

You might be handsomely rewarded... and you'll get to enjoy the benefits of being my friend three months from now without having to be in ownership of Rolexes, Christian Louboutin, or any other possessions mentioned in the notice. Who knows... you might end up getting some as gifts...

Just consider 07-07-07 to be your luckiest day of the year... (I kid... sort of) it sure wasn't mine.

Thank you. That is all.

Ok, no, it's not... I just had to add this because it made me laugh so hard:
Off topic: I was just made aware of the existence of a fan of mine. Yeah, I said it: fan.
I laughed even harder when I found out who it was: Twiggy (my sister's ex-best friend, not the cool top model)!
Apparently, this girl has a thing for my writing style.
"I like how your sister writes... tell her to write more often!!"
"Umm... ok? How am I supposed to tell her this without pissing her off by letting her know we read her stuff?"
"I don't know... just tell her I'm a fan!"
She became upset when I decided to privatize my Myspace because that meant she could no longer read my blogs unless I decided to add her (which I never planned on, because a human that manages to piss me off more than she I have yet to meet).
I'm glad I privatized the page, and I pray to God Twiggy never finds any other blogs of mine, because this girl has a thing for emulating/usurping other people's style, whether it be in apparel, musical tastes (which she totally ripped off me! She went to my page and looked up all my favorite bands and now she claims to be the goddess of Rock en Español), or behavior. Let's not add "writing style" to the list... because that would upset me shitless.

I could never manage to get anything better than a "C" in my 10th grade World History class essays because the (fucking nutjob) teacher hated my writing style. Then last year a professor I really liked (he makes me laugh) wouldn't give me anything better than a "C" in my essays because he didn't like my "cute-sy" style.
To have a "fan" of the "style" just makes me laugh... and to see who it is... well... that just makes me double over in pain.
I don't know whether to be proud... or ashamed at the fact that a "normal" person likes my style, but a smart educator can't stand it. ???

Ok... now that is all for today.
I have a fan (and she's one of the chicks I directed these new rules to! How sad... I dislike my own fan!)!!
AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.

Get up, you son of a bitch 'cuz AnoMALIE loves ya!

What a way to ruin an otherwise placid Cinco de Mayo.

Why couldn't my family like something like... NASCAR (ahaha... ok, ok... I kid there)? But, no, I really do wish my family would find entertainment in something less barbaric than boxing... and I wish I hadn't given my heart to Oscar de la Hoya. Curse you, Barcelona Olympics of 1992!

Yep. I participated in the typical Cinco de Mayo festivities... I studied, I ran, I cried, I had breakfast at 4 in the afternoon, I went to church, and I finished it all off with a Scotch on the rocks alongside my grieving uncle, aunt, Mom, and two male cousins while watching the De la Hoya- Mayweather fight (we probably should have been praying a rosary or something).

We're so hardcore.

However, I did turn down a Cuban cigar... so I guess that would make me a pu... wimp (or, you know, a girl).
Yes, no matter how hard I try, this Monarrez will always be the wussiest of all.
It didn't help that for most of the fight, I was reading a magazine, looking away, or shielding my eyes.

"Why... ahh... why in the hell... oh my God! Why would he do that?!"
That's all that was coming out of me. That or:
"Oh man... I can't watch! You can do it, Oscar!"

And like all the good Mexicans, I screamed:
"Oh, what the fuck?! That's bullshit!"
When the final decision was mentioned.

I could easily be complaining right now... or pointing out the good parts of Oscar's boxing... but I won't.
Whatever, we all know who the good guy is in this case.

I'll just go to bed, fuming a little... and hopefully it'll only give me more strength to study for these damn finals.

Eeeek. I'm scared (and a fucking spider just crawled all over my left arm... I fucking hate the boonies!)

The hippie within

I have a tendency to complain about hippies... sort of in the way Cartman does on South Park.
I never threaten to kill hippies, but I do become bothered by them from time to time (they flock to me like... ducks at a park do to loaves of bread carried by a toddler).
However, it has come to my attention that I possess some of these Hippie Qualities.

First off:
I love "Mother Nature."

-Why else did I become a Biology major (to be a doctor, that's why)? While, yes, I had my mind made up to become a doctor, as the years went by and the classes became increasingly boring... I figured I only enjoyed classes that involved "Earthy"-related topics (NOT plant physiology though... fuck them and their different types of chlorophyll. And plankton... man, if I hear one more thing about plankton, I'm going to... dump iron in the oceans! Which may actually proliferate plankton colonies... but whatever. Do they live in colonies? Man, I hate aquatic ecology... it gets to my head).
- I really like the outdoors, mainly because it's quiet. While I do live in a dirty city, I try my best to escape during the summer and winter... or just weekends (which is difficult as how my parents think I'm going to go out and get assassinated by the next Zodiac killer or some shit).
-I watch PBS's "Nature" series out of longing for the discovery channel (stupid Vegas boonies and their cable-less homes!).
-I've been known to hug a tree or two.

Second:
I don't litter or eat much meat.

Third:
I wear my hair down on a daily basis... this one worked a lot better when I had long hair.

Fourth:
I'm a Pisces (mannnn).

Fifth, and final:
I don't take pills.

While this last reason may be... well, not the greatest because of the fact that some hippies were best known for their love of hallucinogenic drugs... I know of many that prefer to take the "natural" route when it comes to medication.
That's all the way me. I have no clue why I fight it, but whenever I feel a headache coming on, I refuse to take Advil/Tylenol/Whateverelseisoutthere. I somehow believe "thinking positive" will make the pain go away... and the strategy works maybe one out of five times. I have no concrete reason behind aspirin rejection... maybe because I don't like foreign chemicals being ingested by my body?
Anyway, this hippie behavior really pisses me off sometimes. Particularly today.
I woke up with a mean ass headache and an accompanying sore throat. While I did get up to take some medication for the sore throat (it's a... man, I learned this in micro... but can no longer remember the type of pill that it is) at six in the morning, I decided to try and "sleep off" the head ache till 10:30 am.
I woke up at 10:30 and felt worse... like the covers were glued onto me, I really couldn't eat, and I was sounding like a transvestite (some transvestites have a better voice than mine even when I'm healthy).
I drove off to school and I swear I was seeing blue (What the fuck? I didn't take Viagra...). While I knew it couldn't be that bad, I couldn't wait to get to school and relax my head. However, once there, the headache only increased.
To make a long story short, I had the opportunity to get some Advil/Tylenol about 3 times, but I turned each one of them down.
I came home wanting to pass out and ready for nap time.
I caught myself and thought:
Well, fuck this hippie bullshit. Where's the Tylenol?

And sure enough... my headache is gone.
Thank you, acetaminophen.