TF You Want?

Hey, how are you feeling? See photo above.
Hey, are you ok? See photo above.
Hey, why aren't you... SEE PHOTO ABOVE.

That's my "'the fuck you want?" look/vibe... but the non-menacing kind... more of the "irritated, but still listening to you" kind... like you just MIGHT say/suggest/demand something interesting, but I definitely had more pressing matters to handle.
"What do you want, weirdo?" and "'The fuck you doin'?" could be suitable replacements.
("Weirdo" because thanks to your stupid shit, you just made me take away my attention from that candy I was trying to enjoy)

(Tangent-ish: now do y'all understand why I mostly chill with guys? That's all that surrounded me in my youngest days)

This I find appropriate only because I attended a baby's birthday party yesterday where the fucking asshole parents DENIED me a goodie-bag... only me.
Yeah, I was pissed... mainly because:
1. I love candy
and
2. Here I am a single, barren girl...
  A. surrounded by CLOWNS who wanted to
     i. Paint my face
     ii. Make me dance or
     iii. Make me laugh. No bitch, I don't do clowns.
  B. surrounded by ILL-BEHAVED children who were
     i. running
     ii. screaming
     iii. THROWING GANG SIGNS (kids are still into fucking cholos?! Blew my fucking mind).
     iv. throwing toys into people's plates full of food. Fuck. That.
  C. surrounded by her Mexican relatives, all of whom have procreated... and I'm just... you know... single and almost-30 (never mind the fact I was also the only person in the building with a college degree... who give a fuck about that, right? Probably why the bitch will die alone, anyway... too smart for her own good, am I right?). Good shit.

The LEAST I deserved was a fucking $2-worth of candy bag.
But no. Instead, I sat in the kitchen, watching the Disney channel... completely captivated by some movie I had never heard of ("Mirror, Mirror"... embarrassing to admit, but whatever. A fucking kid threw a Hotwheel into my plate of birria, do you think I gave a single fuck the rest of the day? Nah, man, I mentally checked out right then and there).

I go on fun tangents, don't I?
See photo above.

sooooo bad

I lack expertise on many things... actually, I'm pretty bad with most things.

But knowing how NOT to wreck your life? I'm an expert... mainly because I've been so motherfucking GREAT at fucking shit up for myself. All you really have to do if you want to succeed at something, is do the opposite of what I did.

Knowledge on how to deal with heartbreak? Girl, I got you.

Today's relationship issue was my sister's. While we're not on the best of places in our own sisterly bond, I still don't like knowing she's out there alone in the world crying over some douchebag.

Does it get better? Meh. Maybe if you're attractive... which my sister is. For me? No, it doesn't get better. That motherfucking line is BULLLLLLSHIT for a girl like me... time has proven it. Repeatedly. I stand here, don't I? I'm nearly 30, and I'm here to say that NO, it certainly fucking doesn't get better for some people. It certainly has never gotten better for me. But my sister is of a different kind of girl... she has always been popular. I'm more of the... odd rarity-- the one poor fool who gets struck by lightning, repeatedly, but never wins something like the lotto.

Does it stop hurting? No... you just become a little numb to it... sometimes forgetting, as long as someone or something doesn't exacerbate the memory. You learn to function, even feel stuff for other people... but the hurt remains there, ready to flare up at the slightest provocation. Feelings of inadequacy will linger, probably forever. You memorize every single word he utters to you. Every single painful letter... of whatever ugly, stupid, hurtful sentence he manages to spew at you to finally dropkick the fucking shit out of your heart.
I don't know what to say?
Just another girl, nothing more, nothing less.
You'll walk past a Margaritaville, and find yourself locked in a bathroom stall five minutes later, crying your eyes out after the memories prove too tough to handle.
Or you'll be sitting in a dimly lit room, watching others drink... and you'll immediately head out in search for a brighter room, all in hopes of not bursting into sobs.
But you'll function... and many normal days will come. Shit, you'll even have some awesome days... numerous awesome days.

Do I think my sister will get better? Yep. Do I think she'll find another love? Of course, it's her. My advice to her is true, I believe in it... for her case.

At least she has that memory, that knowledge, that at some point, he felt something for her.... obviously not as strong as she did, but at least enough for him to give her the time of day... for years. She felt it. Literally.
Even if the feeling never evolved to love from his behalf, at least it wasn't apathy. At least she wasn't "just another girl." At least she had a name. At least she heard him say her name. At least she existed to him.
She has to find some solace in that.
She was something, someone, at some point. That has to count for something.
***

I hadn't thought about this fucking subject in a minute. Now this. Great. Fucking great.
(I lie. Last month I had a very comforting dream. Comforting, just comforting. I was sitting, facing a lake on a summer evening, watching the sun set. Pink sky. Knees hugged against my chest... crying. Then suddenly I feel him gently patting my back. Nothing romantic... nothing... romantic... just compassion. A comforting patting of my back, letting me know everything would be ok. Just that same comforting, silent company. He hadn't crossed my mind for a while until that dream... tumbled everything back to zero. I'm back to zero)

Smile, idiot

A smile really gets me places.
A smile and a good attitude.
And it's extra cool if it's a dude who handles my issue.

One of the issues responsible for ruining my weekend was swiftly taken care of after I patiently waited my turn for a nice four hours. The waiting didn't even bother me, given I had already spent a good 48 hours worrying my fucking head off (in the privacy of my home).
Before entering the queue line, I made up my mind to be nice and patient... and smile.
I kept that vibe going even after four hours of listening to kids screaming in my ear.

Once my name was called, I hustled to my door, and continued with my sunny, kind disposition as soon as I saw the cool dude handling my case.
A few key strokes here, a few key strokes there... and bam, within five minutes everything was good.

I had to fight the urge to hug and kiss the dude.

One down, three issues to go.
Fuuuuuuuun!

more like '09

Trying to keep it together.
Another one of those episodes where everything goes wrong, even little things I always take for granted, is currently wrecking shit up.

Kind of hard to write up the stuff I had planned, since all these fuck ups preoccupy my mind.
This upcoming week promises to be challenging as fuck... and not the fun type of challenging, but the "I'm going to rip out my fucking hair and kick the shit out of this brick wall" type challenging.

2015 is looking eerily similar to 2009...
God, please no.

Sea leggy

I really should get to talking about some of the activities enjoy last month before I go on and forget them.
I tried discussing some of the events of the last month with Mom yesterday, and caught myself slipping with the names of some of the locations (they were ports, so can you blame me? I don't really give a shit about water... so... kind of normal for me to forget).
Just so I DON'T forget, the Friday before I left, as in, the day after Christmas, we all packed up our shit and headed out on a day cruise to three little islands: Hydra, Poros, and Aegina. I think I have difficulty with the latter two because they were spelled so differently. There was the English spelling, the Greek spelling, and the Greek-phonetically-speaking-to-an-English-speaker-which-turned-out-to-sound-like-Mexican-Spanish spelling. I never knew what to go with... mostly anything other than English, because English was always wrong.

Anyway, Hydra was memorable because that's where Jackie O lived post-JFK. There were so many filthy cats and stinky donkeys... I wasn't overly joyed to be there. One thing I will say, however, was that once we left the touristy areas it was quite gorgeous... with tiny streets (no roads/cars, which was sweet because cars are quite the nuisance in the hands of some Europeans...) and steep, gorgeous hills. It was cluttered, but in a nice way, if that makes sense. Cluttered cutesy stuff.
Just that thing where you have to watch out for cat shit... and constantly staring at some dirty cat who will stare you down if you have a trace of food on you... that was the negative. Goddamn cats.

Hydra was the first stop after a couple of hours at sea on this ferry. I quickly learned I fucking hate ferries. I hated the rocking motion. I hated the fact that I had to just sit there. I WAS glad, however, that at no point was I left to stare at open seas. There was always a little island or rock formation for me to stare at... so I wouldn't have that overwhelming sense of anxiety with staring at just... ocean.
Anyway, thanks to being stuck on this ferry for so long (there was this large group of Spanish tourists who quickly grew on everyone's nerves... they just wouldn't shut the fuck up. They were the loudest, giggliest group of elitists I've met in a minute. Sure, they had some good moments, but god forbid anyone try to JOIN their jovial party-- they'd be stared down like a bunch of lepers), we eagerly stepped off the ferry and mingled with what Hydra had to offer (frustrated locals who trashtalked the tourists who dared venture off the touristic area-- my brother translated).
A group of boys tried flirting with my sister at the cafe we walked into. Sister had no interest in what the boys had to say, mainly because she really needed to go to the bathroom. I stood there somewhat uncomfortable, because I'm sure they automatically thought I too was a bitch (which, sure, because I too really had to take a piss, and all I really knew how to say in Greek was "sorry" and "thank you").
Anyway, we eventually settled outside the establishment to stare at the water/boats... and fight the urge to barf at the sight of nasty street cats eating the fur off themselves (I swear I fucking despise cats after this trip. I used to be apathetic to cats... now I straight up hate them. Keep those fucking cats away from me... dirty motherfuckers). It was an interesting scene... sipping on some delicious coffee, eating some sort of delectable honey-covered Greek pastry, laughing with the funny conversation of my group, smelling the wet donkeys nearby... and those fucking cats... jesus, those fucking cats.

We checked out Hydra for about an hour, then headed back into the boat to scope out Poros.
Poros was an hour and a half away (I think?), but I wouldn't know how long it took, because this was the part of the trip where we were fed the buffet-styled lunch.
Poros was pleasant. We were given an hour and a half to discover the sights. I think this might have been the place we roamed around the most. The buildings were the most memorable... so much white, gold, blue, and terracotta roof tops. We stepped inside a few bakeries... and ate some more baked goods, duh! I think about the baklava and still drool.

The next stop was Aegina. This place was fun. What do I remember most? PISTACHIOS. We checked out some ruins... then grabbed some pistachio ice cream (absolutely delicious), and stared at some more ruins... and Athens in the distance. We also checked out a very pretty church... St. Athanasia? Anyway, we then checked out the city a bit more, and wound up purchasing kilos-worth of pistachios... and honey.

The trip was ok... I'd say wonderful had I not acquired a mild case of sea-legs. I was fighting the urge to puke at dinner later that day (back in Athens). The mood was also a bit somber, because Clemson and Pacemaker were leaving in the morning... so we were basically having our outing together.

Will I ever go on a boat ride again? I can't say I plan on it any time soon... that shit just isn't for me. However, I'm glad I saw what I did on this trip... and tasted what I did... because they will be sights, smells and tastes I'll constantly return to (in my mind) on my bad days (well, you know, I could have done without the smell of wet donkey and dirty, nasty cats).

NAMES... I can't forget NAMES!

Coincidence...

I had a nice entry mapped out in my mind on Friday... nice, happy entry relating to my recent travels.
Then sad shit started happening.
I lost any and all thoughts running through my mind that were not those of concern for my friends currently hurting.

This family, my sister's best friend's family, we go back about 15 or so years.
The family is very similar to mine:
The dads have the same name.
The moms are the same age (birthdays the same week) and hail from the same part of Mexico (two towns apart).
The first born is a male, one born exactly a month before the other (my brother is the "young" one).
The middle kids are both girls with the same name.
The youngest/third kid is a girl, born on the same day, two years apart (my sister is the "older" one).
They were neighbor's/best friends with my mom's deceased, beloved brother when they lived in The Bay.

We became friends due to being in the same circle of friends when the whole Quinceañera circuit began for my brother and me (I was 13). We always bumped into each other, and I had a crush on the guy. I eventually made friends with the middle daughter, and introduced her to my little sister... the two immediately clicked.
Then my sister grew closer to the middle girl, crushed on the older brother, and I stepped aside.
The friendship/bond only grew as the years went by.

Yesterday was the 6 year anniversary of my paternal grandfather's death.
Yesterday, this family lost their maternal grandfather.

We hadn't noticed we were missing a similarity amongst the grandparents...

Coincidences make me smile... but when it's this... sad, well, it just breaks my heart.

2015? That shit a typo?

I cringe now that I have to check in with my resolutions from last year.
I think I kept it short... but let's see.

1. Smile more often. I look like a homicidal psychopath when I'm not smiling.
2. Good vibes. Avoid negativity... especially when I am the one emitting that shit. It's not cool.
3. Muscle. I will build some nice muscle and quit being so lax on the diet. I'm old, I need to watch myself.
4. Learn to take a compliment... and more importantly, believe it when someone compliments me.
5. Make an effort to take care of my physical appearance.... there's nothing wrong with being a girly-girl. It's about time I gave a shit about facials and all that shit.

Now to dissect each one.
1. Nope. Still looking like the good ol' homicidal psychopath. I think I may have frowned more this year than previous years. Prior to Athens, I actually had some horrible scowl-lines by my mouth. Athens seriously has some rejuvenating powers, because my skin did some backwards aging out there... acne included. Ha! But seriously, my forehead looks fucking good, and I was over here thinking about Botox... pfft!
Anyway, I failed this one... especially since I can count how many times I smiled January-August using only the fingers on one hand.
Fuck.

2. Goddamn it... failed this one as well. While I wasn't really "absorbing" the negative vibes of others (uh... no, actually, I was... since I was able to feel SO MUCH rage from the actions of others... like the whole July babyshower fiasco etc), I was DEFINITELY in a negative space. I was mean. I angrily glared at people who got too close to me at the gym... ugh... I was odious.
FUCK!

3. OH GOD! NO! FUCKING THIRD ONE IN A ROW! Failure again. Jesus. My arms got buff as fuck... as did my back. I have traps that even men would envy. Everywhere else? BAHAHAHA! NO! No, wait, my abs were pretty badass around February/March. I actually had a sweet four-pack going on. My quads were behaving themselves around the start of the year as well... but uh... all bets were off around September. I INDULGED like a biiiitch. It also didn't help that I acquired a nasty, bothersome injury so early in the year. You really take your metatarsals for granted until you fuck one up and find yourself hobbling all over the place. By December, I let my sweet tooth rule my world. Rome? I ate. Barcelona? I ate. Paris? I ATE. Athens? I was a motherfucking GLUTTON. Athens does this cool thing, where they give you free drinks at the start of your meal, free dessertS (yes, MULTIPLE DESSERTS! Is it obvious why I fucking love the place now?), and then they also give you a dessert shot of liquor. I mean... FUCK! I ate my motherfucking heart out. DEEP-FRIED FETA CHEESE DRIZZLED WITH HONEY, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! JESUS! Ok, sorry, this subject is just so thrilling for me.
Anyway, yeah, failed with this one.
Blah.

4. Hey! I got this one! I'm actually pretty good with compliments now! Woo! This brings me back to this recent Euro-trip. I was terrible at realizing when guys were flirting... I'd catch the drift way after leaving them. "Wait... oh! He said that because... OH! I GET IT!"
I had this moment at the Louvre, where I was cutting it close for Mass at Notre Dame (hey, don't judge me. I was in Paris for the Virgin of Guadalupe's day... she's my homegirl), so I NEEDED to leave the museum if I wanted to make it to Mass on time. I saw a dude, probably early 30's, standing near an exit sign. He was a worker, in a nice suit, with a name tag... so I approached him and asked if that was the way out.
He looked me right in the face (Parisian men have a thing for holding eye-contact which make me a little uncomfortable... it's a freakishly long time which they insist on looking you dead on in the face... examining every last detail about it. It's crazy. I bet they can give pretty accurate description to police portrait artists), smiled... said "As-salamu alaykum," then "Bonjour?" then "hello?" then "hola?" and smiled some more. I asked again, this time in French. "But why would you want to leave? Where are you going?" he asked. "I need to get to Notre Dame before 6:30," I said. The guy got closer to me, smiled, then said "Ah, yes, the exit. I can take you to it, though I'd hate to see you leave..."-- still holding eye-contact with me, looking serious. I panicked, my eyes large as hell, eyebrows up in surprise. "Oh my god! Why?! What's wrong?" I said, thinking I was in trouble for... well, I don't know, it was Paris... they do whatever the fuck they want... I could have been in trouble for wearing blue pants with my red sweater, for all I knew.
The guy's semi-smile turned to a disappointed frown, he straightened his blazer, then said "I really shouldn't be doing this, but, I'll take you through this very special exit. Come along, follow me." And ta-da! exit through the shop. "Have a great time at Notre Dame. Au revoir."
I then jetted over to Notre Dame, and it wasn't until I was in the middle of Mass that it dawned on me that the poor guy was doing all he could to flirt... but it was like flirting with a wall.
He was cute... like a younger version of the actor who plays Littlefinger on Game of Thrones (so I have a thing for that little weasel. Again, don't judge me). I'm just too slow at picking up on flirtatious conversation. "He was trying to flirt? WHY?!"
Stories like that peppered my December trip... I'll probably talk about it later, but enough for now. Point is, while I'm SLOW at noticing when a guy wants to flirt with me (well, when he's not as straightforward as the sickos who do shit like physically GRAB me or do that tongue thing when I walk by [the one where they display how talented they are with their tongue action], as though that ever works with anyone who is NOT a nymphomaniac), but I don't get all worked up when they toss me a compliment. I giggle now... like a teenager. Baby steps.

5. Ummm... this I will consider a failure. From around July until now, I have broken out worse than I ever have... not even my teen years were this bad. I blame my diet for the outbreak. I've been pretty lax about my beauty regimen, usually falling asleep with mascara still on my face and that sort of shit. I did buy retinol to prevent/ease wrinkles back in June... but I have yet to use it. I'm a TERRIBLE girl. Fucking TERRIBLE! Oh! Well, it can't be a complete failure-- I DID get a manicure last month before heading out to Athens... that was mighty girly of me (I then proceeded to remove the gel polish with my teeth two weeks later... even after hearing the nail lady lecture me on the proper removal procedure for a good ten minutes. NOT very girly of me. My nails are wrecked).

Good Lord... 2014 was a massive failure.
My bad.
I knew I should have mentioned something about traveling. I had that shit DOWN! Once again I visited a new country/city for like... my fourth year. That was rad as fuck.

I guess I'll go ahead and do some resolutions.
1. DROP THE FUCKING COOKIES, ANoMALIE! I will go back to my strict "clean" eating (I fucking hate that term). I won't be as much of a nazi about it, though. Slap me if I ever try lecturing you on the "evils" of certain foods. You like sugar/salt/tasty shit and you're happy with your image? Well, shit, that's all that matters (well, as long as you're not acquiring diabetes or any of those health problems). And please, for the love of my sanity, don't try bullying me into eating after I tell you No. Bad things happen when people don't respect my "No."
2. I WILL NOT BE A CUNT! This is what? My 20th year saying this?
3. I will take time-outs. I won't try and act like everything is OK, and allow bad shit to accumulate, only for me to have major melt-downs like I tend to do. If something bothers me or upsets me, I won't subject myself to "roughing it." To "power through." I'll straight call a time-out and just... leave. Chill time... I'll have chill time.
4. DON'T TALK SHIT. Walk away, Holmes, walk away.
5. Don't let trolls get the best of me. I learned there are a good few people in my life who actively seek to rile me up. Why they enjoy this is beyond me... makes me sad FOR THEM... because there are much more interesting things out there to do besides upsetting me... but to each their own. I'll do my best not to give them any satisfaction.
6. My most ambitious move EVER: I'll sell one of my works. I don't know what... but it'll be ANYTHING, for WHATEVER price... just not free. I've sold two photographs in the past, but everything else I've given away for free. I won't specify whether it'll be a short story, or a painting, or a photograph... just anything my two hands have created.

Should I add something relating to my sentimental life?
Nah. I've been good neglecting that aspect for the last few years. That shit always ruins my year... so I'm good just completely ignoring that part of a person's life. I don't need it. I don't use it.
Just like spirituality is something unimportant in the lives of many, "love"/"relationships" is a dead, non-existent part in my life. Period. No use acknowledging it.

2015... AAAAAHHHHH! Is this for real?!
Be good. Please.