After watching "The Girls Next Door" earlier tonight, I was inspired. Why can't I be a slutty ho with fake boobs and a fetish for old men? Certainly, if the blond brains at the Playboy Mansion can do it, so can I. Maybe I can add a bit of ethnic spice to the predominantly blond crew. I want to be able to go to castings and flash my silicone-pumped naughties at random camera men who then establish all rights to my nude photos. It really is a dream. To live at the posh Playboy Mansion, to be able to shop till I drop on Heffner's tab, and of course, the b(r)est perk of all, to be at all hours on call for a good romp with the grandpa himself.
Okay yeah. No.
I'm all for women embracing their sexuality. I'm all for women proudly displaying what they've got, being sultry and even showing off a little. Nothing wrong with that. But when you've devalued yourself enough to be part of Playboy's sick harem, that is demoralizing. I was seriously staring at my screen with a dumbstruck expression because I just could not look away. I mean, there has GOT to be some sort of illness to explain this. How could so many girls want in on something like that? And these girls... they primarily come from wealthy families. It's not like their wanting for money (not that I'm advocating prostitution). The only way you could ever get me to join that cast is if my son was dying and I had NO other option in the world to save him. And even then I would hate every minute of it. But to see the lines of hundreds of women who all hope to be the next Playmate is disheartening. And what is it for? The prestige? Please. This is Playboy, not Yale. Sick. Gross. Objectifying. I'm all for classy, tasteful sexy images. I'm not for whoring yourself out to be in a magazine.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
I'll Trade you this Cactus for.......Whatever that Extremely Green Plant Is?
Heyyyyyyyyyo. Sorry I haven't blogged in a while, it's been quite hectic around here. The end of camp, finding and sealing an apartment, my boyfriend's 21st birthday, readying for my internship here in Connecticut, and many goodbyes all happened within seriously 8 days of each other. Needless to say, I was running around in circles but I think it all went well. Camp ended smoothly, my roommates and I found a gorgeous condo to stay in, Chris loved his bday present, my internship is interesting to say the least (I'll get to that in a sec), and I've said all my goodbyes. Whew.
Okay, so what I really wanted to talk about was my internship. I intern in Yale's Child Neuroscience Lab. In a nutshell, they look at children with autism, and their siblings. That last bit is particularly interesting to the lab, because in some cases kids with autism have siblings that are normal, or "typical," as is politically correct. In their study, a family volunteers to have their child (or children) go through an MRI test. Meg I know you remember this from psych....magnetic resonance imaging! Basically its this huge ass machine that uses magnetic forces (up to 24,000x stronger than the Earth's magnetic field fyi) to scan images of your brain. You have to remain extremely still, because like any camera, if you move the picture will be blurry. The whole MRI process takes about half an hour, and the kid gets to watch a movie inside the machine while it happens. Sounds pretty simple right?
Oh hellll no.
Friday was my first day interning. I had no idea what to expect at all--everything in the above paragraph about MRIs I learned AFTER the day was over yesterday. So anyway, I walk in and there are about 6 people who work in the lab. I was very nervous about the whole thing but it turns out all of the lab folk are super nice. Anyway, they explained the whole MRI thing to me and made me watch some corny videos about it. Then, half an hour in, one of the girls who works in the lab comes in and says to everyone, "So...one of our families isn't going to show. We need to test another subject."
I remember this part very clearly. I feel all eyes move to me and I know what's coming before she says it:
"Let's use the intern."
45 minutes later, I was walking barefoot through the the main medical school building in a hospital gown with my bra in one hand and and my shoes in the other (absolutely NO metal is allowed in MRI scan since the magnet is so powerful...even the metal underwire in my bra!). I walk in through a double door and enter the control room--a room with a thousand computers and dials and mics. The control room does just what its name suggests--control the MRI. The control room is separated from the room with the MRI by a wall that contains a large square window looking at the scanner. The actual scanner is this huge, mammoth thing. If a minivan 3 times the size of a normal minivan mated with a road tunnel in a mountain, you'd get the MRI scanner. In the tunnel goes the subject of course, which, in this case, was me. The clinical psychologist running the MRI in the control room helps you into the stretcher on the MRI, gives you earplugs, a helmet that encompasses your whole head, shoulder things and two remote controls. Then the stretcher moves backwards into the tunnel. I can talk through a mic in the scanner to the people in the control room, and vice versa. The helmet has a mirror directly above it, which reflects the back of the tunnel/scanner where there is a projected screen. For the first scan, I watched Kung Fu Panda (the scan WAS intended for a child after all, but I wasn't complaining).
It got trickier after that though.
After the scan where I could watch the movie, I had to do a TON of really weird, random tests. They displayed a cloud of moving dots on the screen and I had to decipher if there was a human in the cloud of dots, if it was expressing an emotion, and lots of other strange tests. They told me this whole process would take approximately half an hour.
75 minutes later, barely fighting panic and claustrophobia, I emerge from the tunnel freaked out and extremely disoriented. Don't get me wrong--it was absolutely interesting and I'm glad I did it, it was a valuable learning experience.
And they paid me 50 bucks. Turns out they need adult subjects for their study too.
Oh CT....
Okay, so what I really wanted to talk about was my internship. I intern in Yale's Child Neuroscience Lab. In a nutshell, they look at children with autism, and their siblings. That last bit is particularly interesting to the lab, because in some cases kids with autism have siblings that are normal, or "typical," as is politically correct. In their study, a family volunteers to have their child (or children) go through an MRI test. Meg I know you remember this from psych....magnetic resonance imaging! Basically its this huge ass machine that uses magnetic forces (up to 24,000x stronger than the Earth's magnetic field fyi) to scan images of your brain. You have to remain extremely still, because like any camera, if you move the picture will be blurry. The whole MRI process takes about half an hour, and the kid gets to watch a movie inside the machine while it happens. Sounds pretty simple right?
Oh hellll no.
Friday was my first day interning. I had no idea what to expect at all--everything in the above paragraph about MRIs I learned AFTER the day was over yesterday. So anyway, I walk in and there are about 6 people who work in the lab. I was very nervous about the whole thing but it turns out all of the lab folk are super nice. Anyway, they explained the whole MRI thing to me and made me watch some corny videos about it. Then, half an hour in, one of the girls who works in the lab comes in and says to everyone, "So...one of our families isn't going to show. We need to test another subject."
I remember this part very clearly. I feel all eyes move to me and I know what's coming before she says it:
"Let's use the intern."
45 minutes later, I was walking barefoot through the the main medical school building in a hospital gown with my bra in one hand and and my shoes in the other (absolutely NO metal is allowed in MRI scan since the magnet is so powerful...even the metal underwire in my bra!). I walk in through a double door and enter the control room--a room with a thousand computers and dials and mics. The control room does just what its name suggests--control the MRI. The control room is separated from the room with the MRI by a wall that contains a large square window looking at the scanner. The actual scanner is this huge, mammoth thing. If a minivan 3 times the size of a normal minivan mated with a road tunnel in a mountain, you'd get the MRI scanner. In the tunnel goes the subject of course, which, in this case, was me. The clinical psychologist running the MRI in the control room helps you into the stretcher on the MRI, gives you earplugs, a helmet that encompasses your whole head, shoulder things and two remote controls. Then the stretcher moves backwards into the tunnel. I can talk through a mic in the scanner to the people in the control room, and vice versa. The helmet has a mirror directly above it, which reflects the back of the tunnel/scanner where there is a projected screen. For the first scan, I watched Kung Fu Panda (the scan WAS intended for a child after all, but I wasn't complaining).
It got trickier after that though.
After the scan where I could watch the movie, I had to do a TON of really weird, random tests. They displayed a cloud of moving dots on the screen and I had to decipher if there was a human in the cloud of dots, if it was expressing an emotion, and lots of other strange tests. They told me this whole process would take approximately half an hour.
75 minutes later, barely fighting panic and claustrophobia, I emerge from the tunnel freaked out and extremely disoriented. Don't get me wrong--it was absolutely interesting and I'm glad I did it, it was a valuable learning experience.
And they paid me 50 bucks. Turns out they need adult subjects for their study too.
Oh CT....
Monday, July 5, 2010
A Little Bit of This and a Little Bit of Ahhhh
Okay, my bad, I know I haven't blogged in a while. But with all the crazy things going on right now, I just couldn't find the time. I'm actually writing this blog from New Haven, CT, which is where my dad lives.
As a bit of a backstory to why I'm here right now, I'll need to take ya back to May. My grandfather (my dad's dad) has frontal lobe degeneration, which means that he now has trouble controlling the aspects of his life governed by his frontal lobe. That includes his sense of right and wrong, reasoning, morality, planning, decision making and personality. My dad flew out to India in May to help him out around the house, getting things in order and whatnot. However, due to my grandfather's condition, he often goes through violent spurts of attacks and will beat anyone around him. During one of these outbursts, he pinned my dad's arms behind him, tearing some tissue in the shoulder.
Because of that, my dad got surgery at the hospital at Yale (where he works) a couple weeks ago. He went through some rehab for his shoulder and is now out of the hospital. Thankfully, the surgery went well but his arm will be in a sling for a month. He can't use his left arm at all, meaning he can't drive, cook, clean, ect. He lives alone, so you can see how this may be a bit of a problem. Conveniently, all of the staff have to take one week off of work due to budget cuts. My week's this week, so I flew out here to help him out. I've been busy cooking and cleaning for him! I miss AZ, but I would give anything up to help my dad when he needs me now.
Other than that, I'm just chillin. I will go back to AZ this Saturday, work the last two weeks of camp, then head back up here to my internship in the neuroimaging department of child psychiatry at Yale for a month. Wow. I feel like an uber-nerd when I say/write that. Anyway, I don't particularily enjoy going to CT because I love AZ, and miss the people there almost as much as I miss my dad. Blah. Pros and cons. It goes both ways. Never fully happy here without dad nor there without everyone else...
Well that's what's up. Things with roomies, best friends and acquaintances are fine. Things with the boy are even finer =)
As a bit of a backstory to why I'm here right now, I'll need to take ya back to May. My grandfather (my dad's dad) has frontal lobe degeneration, which means that he now has trouble controlling the aspects of his life governed by his frontal lobe. That includes his sense of right and wrong, reasoning, morality, planning, decision making and personality. My dad flew out to India in May to help him out around the house, getting things in order and whatnot. However, due to my grandfather's condition, he often goes through violent spurts of attacks and will beat anyone around him. During one of these outbursts, he pinned my dad's arms behind him, tearing some tissue in the shoulder.
Because of that, my dad got surgery at the hospital at Yale (where he works) a couple weeks ago. He went through some rehab for his shoulder and is now out of the hospital. Thankfully, the surgery went well but his arm will be in a sling for a month. He can't use his left arm at all, meaning he can't drive, cook, clean, ect. He lives alone, so you can see how this may be a bit of a problem. Conveniently, all of the staff have to take one week off of work due to budget cuts. My week's this week, so I flew out here to help him out. I've been busy cooking and cleaning for him! I miss AZ, but I would give anything up to help my dad when he needs me now.
Other than that, I'm just chillin. I will go back to AZ this Saturday, work the last two weeks of camp, then head back up here to my internship in the neuroimaging department of child psychiatry at Yale for a month. Wow. I feel like an uber-nerd when I say/write that. Anyway, I don't particularily enjoy going to CT because I love AZ, and miss the people there almost as much as I miss my dad. Blah. Pros and cons. It goes both ways. Never fully happy here without dad nor there without everyone else...
Well that's what's up. Things with roomies, best friends and acquaintances are fine. Things with the boy are even finer =)
Monday, June 28, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
A Tale of Two Blogs
I'm going to write a spin off of Megan's latest blog about the difficulties of shopping for men, because I 850% agree. See, us girls are mostly very, very easy to shop for. Take Megan herself. A tube of Japanese Cherry Blossom lotion and a bottle of cheap vodka will please her for the next 7 months and 3 days. Anything that smells or looks good generally works with 90% of the female population. Of course, the better you know the girl, the better your idea of what she'll like. This rule only applies to girls buying gifts for girls though. Ask a guy what they're planning on getting their girlfriends, mothers or sisters for their next birthdays and you'll either be met with a blank stare or look of panic. What? She has a birthday coming up?! Oh f***!
Take my sister's boyfriend for example.
He didn't buy her last Christmas gift until, you guessed it, Christmas Eve. Luckily for him, he was smart and went straight to Tiffany's, where the sales clerk clearly must have given him the "yet-another-guy-waiting-till-the-last-minute-to-shop-for-his-girlfriend" look. This shopping trip came after he had called me, asking what Aparna wanted.
Boys....I guess they never learn.
Meanwhile, girls shopping for boys is an entirely different ball game. We take into consideration factors such as but not limited to: who the guy is, our relationship to him, the length, strength, and nature of that relationship, what we can afford, how much to spend depending on how much he has/had spent on us in the past, what his likes and dislikes are, what he already owns, ect.
Somehow, I don't think that most guys go through this level of extensive thinking....
But hey, what would I know? I'll be the first to admit that I know NOTHING about guys. I mean seriously. The only serious man in my life is my father who lives in Connecticut, who is totally content with displaying the bright pink and glittery photo frames I've made him since I was 9 prominently in his Yale office. (Big props to my dad, I am a huge fan of my father.) Growing up I always had friends who were girls--very few guy friends. And incidentally, the few guy friends I've had have mainly been questionably gay so no help there. Guys are so simple that it becomes difficult to shop for them. They have a watch, razor, wallet, cologne, and sunglasses. That's pretty much all they need. They aren't like girls who have five different types of wallets, purses, watches and perfumes. Boys are content with their one-of-what-I-need lifestyle.
Of course, this puts us girls into a predicament.
Should we get him another watch? More of that cologne he likes? What is that cologne he likes? Will he use/wear this if I buy it? It's tough. And most guys aren't exactly open to discussing what they want so no hope there.
And THAT I think... is why shopping for guys sucks. They are too simple to the point of being difficult.
Take my sister's boyfriend for example.
He didn't buy her last Christmas gift until, you guessed it, Christmas Eve. Luckily for him, he was smart and went straight to Tiffany's, where the sales clerk clearly must have given him the "yet-another-guy-waiting-till-the-last-minute-to-shop-for-his-girlfriend" look. This shopping trip came after he had called me, asking what Aparna wanted.
Boys....I guess they never learn.
Meanwhile, girls shopping for boys is an entirely different ball game. We take into consideration factors such as but not limited to: who the guy is, our relationship to him, the length, strength, and nature of that relationship, what we can afford, how much to spend depending on how much he has/had spent on us in the past, what his likes and dislikes are, what he already owns, ect.
Somehow, I don't think that most guys go through this level of extensive thinking....
But hey, what would I know? I'll be the first to admit that I know NOTHING about guys. I mean seriously. The only serious man in my life is my father who lives in Connecticut, who is totally content with displaying the bright pink and glittery photo frames I've made him since I was 9 prominently in his Yale office. (Big props to my dad, I am a huge fan of my father.) Growing up I always had friends who were girls--very few guy friends. And incidentally, the few guy friends I've had have mainly been questionably gay so no help there. Guys are so simple that it becomes difficult to shop for them. They have a watch, razor, wallet, cologne, and sunglasses. That's pretty much all they need. They aren't like girls who have five different types of wallets, purses, watches and perfumes. Boys are content with their one-of-what-I-need lifestyle.
Of course, this puts us girls into a predicament.
Should we get him another watch? More of that cologne he likes? What is that cologne he likes? Will he use/wear this if I buy it? It's tough. And most guys aren't exactly open to discussing what they want so no hope there.
And THAT I think... is why shopping for guys sucks. They are too simple to the point of being difficult.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Oh Drama...
Sometimes....I feel like I'm dealing with 5 year olds. Intelligent, vivacious, brilliant people are 100% capable of being irrational, illogical, and just plain stupid.
Now I'm not saying I'm immune to this. Of course I have my moments. But I have NEVER been immature for this long. I don't stay 5 for extended periods of time. There's a difference between periods of immaturity and full out abject fucking stupidity.
Peace out... I deal with kids as my job, but I'd like to not deal with them off hours.
Now I'm not saying I'm immune to this. Of course I have my moments. But I have NEVER been immature for this long. I don't stay 5 for extended periods of time. There's a difference between periods of immaturity and full out abject fucking stupidity.
Peace out... I deal with kids as my job, but I'd like to not deal with them off hours.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
The Madness Has Only Just Begun
I guess I should start out by telling those of you who don't know what I do in the summer what my occupation is. I'm a summer camp counselor here in the OV. I've volunteered at camp as a junior staff since I was 12, started working for them as an official staff at 16, and have been working camp every summer since (camp is 9 weeks long). This summer, camp takes place at Copper Creek Elementary School. I love my job--the staff keeps on getting rehired so I know and love all of my fellow counselors. I'm comfortable with it because I've been doing it for 7 years--it's familiar, kind of like going home after 9 months in a foreign country. If I made $200,000 a year for being a camp counselor I would do it. With all that said, even though I LOVE my job, it takes a toll when you have a million children vying for your attention all day (5 days a week). Eventually the staff doesn't give a fuck and we just tell them to go entertain themselves (under "supervision" of course).
Take today for example. I was EXHAUSTED and completely out of it at camp yesterday because I had 5 hours of sleep due to the fact that for the past week, I've been waking up in the 5 o clock hour for no damn reason. Also, I think I'm getting sick so that might have added to the fatigue/loopyness. Today was no different. I walk into camp like a zombie and 3 minutes in a camper comes up to me crying and clutching her hand. She was playing tether ball when the ball it her hand hard and she heard a snap.
Fucking fabulous.
So we look up her emergency contacts to let them know and to come pick her up (mind you it's only 8:33am)--her dad, grandma and mom. Dad and grandma didn't answer their calls. Her file didn't include her mom's phone number, and the girl didn't know it off the top of her head. So I asked where her mom worked, and it turns out she was some admin at the OV hospital. So I look up the hospital's number on my phone and call their main line. From there I had to navigate their employee database to find her mom, and ask for her number. Right as I was about to dial the mom's number, I get an incoming call from another parent. Why? She saw a massive rattle snake moving in towards the gym, where we would be in half an hour.
Double fucking fabulous.
Since I didn't see the snake, I walked the whole perimeter of the school with the parent on the phone, and the whole time I was paranoid about stepping on the snake and not seeing it. I never found it, but the parent was relentless so I made up some BS story about "letting maintenance know" about the problem. That loosely translates to "I'll tell the staff but that's it."
In addition, I wasn't the only staff feeling awful today. My coworker was sick too, so the both of us had no energy for anything other than just lying down. Not good when you have 60 campers.
Speaking of sick, get this:
Near the end of the day, we get a frantic call from our boss saying the whole street (Copper Spring's Trail) was blocked off because someone had to be helicoptered to a hospitals. So there, before the staff's horrified eyes, landed a giant red helicopter smack in the middle of the field, whipping up trees and dust. There were a 1000 cops on either end of the street who put us on lockdown in the gym. Problem, because it's now pick up time and the parents are blockaded from the street. So we had to send 2 staff to either end of the street to let them know that they have to either wait to pick up their kid or walk the distance to school. Luckily, the helicopter took off before most of the parents came, so the street freed up.
Now, WTF requires you to be copter-ed out of a field? Why wouldn't an ambulance work? I mean... if you're dying on top of a mountain then yes you need a helicopter.... but at an elementary school? Oh summer camp.....
Yes. It's only week 2, day 2. All in a day's work you guys, all in a day's work.....
Take today for example. I was EXHAUSTED and completely out of it at camp yesterday because I had 5 hours of sleep due to the fact that for the past week, I've been waking up in the 5 o clock hour for no damn reason. Also, I think I'm getting sick so that might have added to the fatigue/loopyness. Today was no different. I walk into camp like a zombie and 3 minutes in a camper comes up to me crying and clutching her hand. She was playing tether ball when the ball it her hand hard and she heard a snap.
Fucking fabulous.
So we look up her emergency contacts to let them know and to come pick her up (mind you it's only 8:33am)--her dad, grandma and mom. Dad and grandma didn't answer their calls. Her file didn't include her mom's phone number, and the girl didn't know it off the top of her head. So I asked where her mom worked, and it turns out she was some admin at the OV hospital. So I look up the hospital's number on my phone and call their main line. From there I had to navigate their employee database to find her mom, and ask for her number. Right as I was about to dial the mom's number, I get an incoming call from another parent. Why? She saw a massive rattle snake moving in towards the gym, where we would be in half an hour.
Double fucking fabulous.
Since I didn't see the snake, I walked the whole perimeter of the school with the parent on the phone, and the whole time I was paranoid about stepping on the snake and not seeing it. I never found it, but the parent was relentless so I made up some BS story about "letting maintenance know" about the problem. That loosely translates to "I'll tell the staff but that's it."
In addition, I wasn't the only staff feeling awful today. My coworker was sick too, so the both of us had no energy for anything other than just lying down. Not good when you have 60 campers.
Speaking of sick, get this:
Near the end of the day, we get a frantic call from our boss saying the whole street (Copper Spring's Trail) was blocked off because someone had to be helicoptered to a hospitals. So there, before the staff's horrified eyes, landed a giant red helicopter smack in the middle of the field, whipping up trees and dust. There were a 1000 cops on either end of the street who put us on lockdown in the gym. Problem, because it's now pick up time and the parents are blockaded from the street. So we had to send 2 staff to either end of the street to let them know that they have to either wait to pick up their kid or walk the distance to school. Luckily, the helicopter took off before most of the parents came, so the street freed up.
Now, WTF requires you to be copter-ed out of a field? Why wouldn't an ambulance work? I mean... if you're dying on top of a mountain then yes you need a helicopter.... but at an elementary school? Oh summer camp.....
Yes. It's only week 2, day 2. All in a day's work you guys, all in a day's work.....
Sunday, June 6, 2010
This One's for Maureen =)
Okay Maureen, you picked a good time to spam my wall =p. That's because I'm gonna write about a HUGE monument in my 19 year life span. What's that? A date that ended.... well you'll see.
So I'm going to leave my date's name out of this just for the sake that wandering eyes might find this (Meg will tell you who it is Maureen). Anyway, my date is someone we ALL know, and we ended up on a date because we work together and we flirted... and all that jazz! Ok I'm blushing just writing this. Which is a big deal because I'm brown and I NEVER blush. Seriously.
Alright, so my date night was quite literally straight from the script of a romantic comedy, complete with disaster, scoldings, awkward run ins, and a happy ending. I promise it's a happy one!
Okay, I know Megan is laughing hysterically right now because I called to tell her about my night already. But I think it's worth writing about.
Now, if you know anything about me, you know that I'm super shy, and I haven't really entered the dating scene full on yet. I've gone on a few dates, yeah, but I was never one of those girls growing up that HAD TO HAVE a boyfriend, and as a result, I've never had one. This ALWAYS takes people by surprise, and when I ask why I usually get a response like "You're just so pretty we assumed that boys would be all over you." Flattering... but kinda sad at the same time. Does every pretty girl NEED to have a boyfriend to be happy, to complete the vision other people thought of them? I for one don't agree. I don't need a man to make me feel good. Sure, if I had one it would be something new, but I was always perfectly happy with my friends, and most of my focus went towards my studies as I went through high school anyway. A boyfriend to me at the time was an added liability... Sorry boys but no time! Really! Oh I had crushes. Seriously. Ask Megan how much I drooled over certain boys. But with having no time, experience, or confidence to really put myself out there, I just never did. I figured that everything will come in due time.
And boy did it ever.
Flash forward to right now. I work with this boy I'm currently dating. We went to middle and high school together, but never really talked throughout it. We ended up dating because we talked (okay and flirted) throughout work the past 2 weeks. Me, being totally inexperienced, had no idea what to expect, and I spent much of my time wondering if he liked me back. FINALLY, I got the are-you-busy-tonight-no-me-either.... text. Now I started freaking out more because I am PAINFULLY shy and was NOT gonna suggest something like "Hey, we should do something tonight." Won't won't won't. Yes, Aditee is silly and was freaking out over this simple suggestion. But after several threats from my sister dearest, I finally bit the bullet and suggested we grab ice cream or something. He said yeah, and then said we could go to the movies afterwards. Of course, this now put me into full-on panic mode and I was sitting in my house hyperventilating. I tried convincing myself that this wasn't a date, just a hangout, but my sister insisted it was a date.
Let me pause here and tell you that this is just the beginning. The real drama has not even started yet.
30 minutes later I finally pull myself together and start to get ready. My sister left to hang out with a friend, my mom's in India and my dad's in Connecticut so I have the house to myself. So naturally, I raid my sister's closet to steal a cute yet modest dress. I finish hair and makeup, and patiently await my date, who would come later in the night to pick me up after he finished dinner with his family. I'm sitting on the couch innocently when all of the sudden it happened.
There was a noise that sounded kind of like an airplane turning off the engine. Then, everything was black. No really, I'm serious. The power died. No light. No sound. My land line was dead of course. My internet wasn't working because there was no power to the modem. It's pitch black in my house because it's now almost 8pm and I'm by myself. We don't have flashlights in this house. We had candles somewhere in the garage, but hell if I was going to navigate that in the darkness. So, as calmly as I could, called my mom on my cell. She didn't answer. Called dad. No answer. My sister. All she said was "Oh fuck." My sentiments exactly. It was only then that I realized that while my house was black, so was the street. I stepped out of my front door and into my cul-de-sac. Darkness all around, no lights. I was under the impression that it was only my house that short circuited or something, which wouldn't have helped me anyway, because I know nothing about circuits. Anyway, I step out into my front yard only to see the silhouette of a large man directly in front of me, across the cul-de-sac, near the house directly across mine. This particular house is vacant 90% of the year, so I was quite surprised (and spooked) to see someone there. I couldn't make out his face of course, but he called out to me. The first thing he said? "Are you alone?"
Cue panic reserves.
"N-no..." I stammered. I totally was alone, but hell if I was gonna tell him that. He then asked if I needed help, and that he could bring me candles if I wanted. I thanked him but said no. I would suffer in the darkness before that happened. Yes, I realize he was probably being friendly, but I was already a bit on edge at that point and wasn't about to take any chances, and, let's face it, you simply do NOT ask a young girl if they're alone like that. Finally, I decided to knock on the door of one of my other neighbors who I actually knew. Just as that thought came to my mind, the neighbor to the right came out of her house and headed towards her car. I called out to her, but she was on the phone and didn't hear me. So I walked up to her driveway calling, but she still didn't hear or see me. Finally she get's in her car, turns it on, and I tapped on her passenger side window. She slowly turned around, and when she saw me, she screamed bloody murder.
I wish I could tell you that I'm making this up. But no, my whole life has to be some kind of entertainment for whatever Gods I've pissed off.
So when she screamed, I jumped. She finally realized it was me, rolled down her window and I profusely apologized for scaring her. She finally calmed down and started laughing. She then informed me that the power was out over half of copper creek and the neighboring neighborhood. I went inside, slightly nervous the events that occurred in the last few minutes. I sat on the couch again, in the blackness, and waited.
Finally, my date arrived! He had gotten slightly lost since he couldn't see any street signs or house numbers in the darkness. We went to Frost for some gelato, and he was a perfect gentleman. Held every door open, told me I looked nice, and paid for the ice cream (I offered... since I'm not quite comfortable with the whole guys-have-to-pay-for-everything rule. Call me weird.) That aside, we get to Frost and run into his ex. Yes. You read that right. His ex. She was working there. However a potential bomb was avoided because my date said hi to her, and then introduced me to her. The ex was very nice about it and smiled at me. She seemed friendly. We get our ice cream and upon walking outside to find a table, only to find my sister and her friend.
Kill me. Really.
I knew she was gonna give me hell, but my date and I sat down at their table since we all knew each other, and we talked. It was actually quite pleasant. Eventually, we had to leave to catch our movie. We went to the theater (where he paid...again...ugh he refused to go Dutch). We were talking away during the previews when all of the sudden, a couple seated in front of us turned around and angrily said "Can you guys continue your conversation after the movie?" Um. What? It's the effing previews. And not even the movie trailer previews, the silent kind where they show you dumb trivia and advertisements. A bit taken aback, my date and I then had to sit in silence for the duration in the movie. It was funny of course, since we couldn't talk, but still weird. The couple that yelled at us laughed obnoxiously throughout the film but we didn't say anything.
Now a few minutes into the movie my date reached over and took my hand. It was sweet and I admired his confidence. Any doubt about whether this was a date date abruptly left at that moment. But of course, me being me, silently panicked at the contact...so new! So exciting! So overwhelming! Ahhhhhhhh!
So at the end of the movie he takes me home... and... wait for it... at my doorstep, he kissed me! Twice. LOL. Sorry if that was anti-climatic. But did I mention, it was my first kiss? ;)
And thus ends the date. I promptly called my mom and told her what happened (I was scandalized after the first thing she asked me was if there was tongue.) Then I called Megan C. Keep in mind that's it's now 1am. Meg was asleep but she was suddenly awake and alert when my first words were "he kissed me." And yeah, I'll be seeing him again =)
And that Maureen, is my post dedicated to you =) Hope you laughed a bit through this! Thought I'd share this new experience with you all.
So I'm going to leave my date's name out of this just for the sake that wandering eyes might find this (Meg will tell you who it is Maureen). Anyway, my date is someone we ALL know, and we ended up on a date because we work together and we flirted... and all that jazz! Ok I'm blushing just writing this. Which is a big deal because I'm brown and I NEVER blush. Seriously.
Alright, so my date night was quite literally straight from the script of a romantic comedy, complete with disaster, scoldings, awkward run ins, and a happy ending. I promise it's a happy one!
Okay, I know Megan is laughing hysterically right now because I called to tell her about my night already. But I think it's worth writing about.
Now, if you know anything about me, you know that I'm super shy, and I haven't really entered the dating scene full on yet. I've gone on a few dates, yeah, but I was never one of those girls growing up that HAD TO HAVE a boyfriend, and as a result, I've never had one. This ALWAYS takes people by surprise, and when I ask why I usually get a response like "You're just so pretty we assumed that boys would be all over you." Flattering... but kinda sad at the same time. Does every pretty girl NEED to have a boyfriend to be happy, to complete the vision other people thought of them? I for one don't agree. I don't need a man to make me feel good. Sure, if I had one it would be something new, but I was always perfectly happy with my friends, and most of my focus went towards my studies as I went through high school anyway. A boyfriend to me at the time was an added liability... Sorry boys but no time! Really! Oh I had crushes. Seriously. Ask Megan how much I drooled over certain boys. But with having no time, experience, or confidence to really put myself out there, I just never did. I figured that everything will come in due time.
And boy did it ever.
Flash forward to right now. I work with this boy I'm currently dating. We went to middle and high school together, but never really talked throughout it. We ended up dating because we talked (okay and flirted) throughout work the past 2 weeks. Me, being totally inexperienced, had no idea what to expect, and I spent much of my time wondering if he liked me back. FINALLY, I got the are-you-busy-tonight-no-me-either.... text. Now I started freaking out more because I am PAINFULLY shy and was NOT gonna suggest something like "Hey, we should do something tonight." Won't won't won't. Yes, Aditee is silly and was freaking out over this simple suggestion. But after several threats from my sister dearest, I finally bit the bullet and suggested we grab ice cream or something. He said yeah, and then said we could go to the movies afterwards. Of course, this now put me into full-on panic mode and I was sitting in my house hyperventilating. I tried convincing myself that this wasn't a date, just a hangout, but my sister insisted it was a date.
Let me pause here and tell you that this is just the beginning. The real drama has not even started yet.
30 minutes later I finally pull myself together and start to get ready. My sister left to hang out with a friend, my mom's in India and my dad's in Connecticut so I have the house to myself. So naturally, I raid my sister's closet to steal a cute yet modest dress. I finish hair and makeup, and patiently await my date, who would come later in the night to pick me up after he finished dinner with his family. I'm sitting on the couch innocently when all of the sudden it happened.
There was a noise that sounded kind of like an airplane turning off the engine. Then, everything was black. No really, I'm serious. The power died. No light. No sound. My land line was dead of course. My internet wasn't working because there was no power to the modem. It's pitch black in my house because it's now almost 8pm and I'm by myself. We don't have flashlights in this house. We had candles somewhere in the garage, but hell if I was going to navigate that in the darkness. So, as calmly as I could, called my mom on my cell. She didn't answer. Called dad. No answer. My sister. All she said was "Oh fuck." My sentiments exactly. It was only then that I realized that while my house was black, so was the street. I stepped out of my front door and into my cul-de-sac. Darkness all around, no lights. I was under the impression that it was only my house that short circuited or something, which wouldn't have helped me anyway, because I know nothing about circuits. Anyway, I step out into my front yard only to see the silhouette of a large man directly in front of me, across the cul-de-sac, near the house directly across mine. This particular house is vacant 90% of the year, so I was quite surprised (and spooked) to see someone there. I couldn't make out his face of course, but he called out to me. The first thing he said? "Are you alone?"
Cue panic reserves.
"N-no..." I stammered. I totally was alone, but hell if I was gonna tell him that. He then asked if I needed help, and that he could bring me candles if I wanted. I thanked him but said no. I would suffer in the darkness before that happened. Yes, I realize he was probably being friendly, but I was already a bit on edge at that point and wasn't about to take any chances, and, let's face it, you simply do NOT ask a young girl if they're alone like that. Finally, I decided to knock on the door of one of my other neighbors who I actually knew. Just as that thought came to my mind, the neighbor to the right came out of her house and headed towards her car. I called out to her, but she was on the phone and didn't hear me. So I walked up to her driveway calling, but she still didn't hear or see me. Finally she get's in her car, turns it on, and I tapped on her passenger side window. She slowly turned around, and when she saw me, she screamed bloody murder.
I wish I could tell you that I'm making this up. But no, my whole life has to be some kind of entertainment for whatever Gods I've pissed off.
So when she screamed, I jumped. She finally realized it was me, rolled down her window and I profusely apologized for scaring her. She finally calmed down and started laughing. She then informed me that the power was out over half of copper creek and the neighboring neighborhood. I went inside, slightly nervous the events that occurred in the last few minutes. I sat on the couch again, in the blackness, and waited.
Finally, my date arrived! He had gotten slightly lost since he couldn't see any street signs or house numbers in the darkness. We went to Frost for some gelato, and he was a perfect gentleman. Held every door open, told me I looked nice, and paid for the ice cream (I offered... since I'm not quite comfortable with the whole guys-have-to-pay-for-everything rule. Call me weird.) That aside, we get to Frost and run into his ex. Yes. You read that right. His ex. She was working there. However a potential bomb was avoided because my date said hi to her, and then introduced me to her. The ex was very nice about it and smiled at me. She seemed friendly. We get our ice cream and upon walking outside to find a table, only to find my sister and her friend.
Kill me. Really.
I knew she was gonna give me hell, but my date and I sat down at their table since we all knew each other, and we talked. It was actually quite pleasant. Eventually, we had to leave to catch our movie. We went to the theater (where he paid...again...ugh he refused to go Dutch). We were talking away during the previews when all of the sudden, a couple seated in front of us turned around and angrily said "Can you guys continue your conversation after the movie?" Um. What? It's the effing previews. And not even the movie trailer previews, the silent kind where they show you dumb trivia and advertisements. A bit taken aback, my date and I then had to sit in silence for the duration in the movie. It was funny of course, since we couldn't talk, but still weird. The couple that yelled at us laughed obnoxiously throughout the film but we didn't say anything.
Now a few minutes into the movie my date reached over and took my hand. It was sweet and I admired his confidence. Any doubt about whether this was a date date abruptly left at that moment. But of course, me being me, silently panicked at the contact...so new! So exciting! So overwhelming! Ahhhhhhhh!
So at the end of the movie he takes me home... and... wait for it... at my doorstep, he kissed me! Twice. LOL. Sorry if that was anti-climatic. But did I mention, it was my first kiss? ;)
And thus ends the date. I promptly called my mom and told her what happened (I was scandalized after the first thing she asked me was if there was tongue.) Then I called Megan C. Keep in mind that's it's now 1am. Meg was asleep but she was suddenly awake and alert when my first words were "he kissed me." And yeah, I'll be seeing him again =)
And that Maureen, is my post dedicated to you =) Hope you laughed a bit through this! Thought I'd share this new experience with you all.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Apolo Has Never Been Closer
Hey my 2.5 readers. How goes it? Well I thought I'd share something I've become involved with recently....
No, it's not drugs. It's actually a competition. Nike has a female field reporter who goes out to sporting evens, interviews the star athletes (like Apolo), and then blogs about it. The FR travels across the world to attend these events for an 8 month period. Well, the reign of the current field reporter, Sarina Morales, is ending so Nike held a nationwide search for the next wannabe field reporter. To participate, you had to submit a photo of yourself and a 1000 world essay of why you should be the next FR, exhibiting "savvy writing skills." It was pretty open ended, you could write a mock blog about an athlete or talk about yourself. I chose to write about JR Celski, the upcoming short track speedskater who performed phenomenally but was slightly overshadowed by hot shot Apolo at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics.
Well, they received a billion submissions since it was an open nationwide contest. However, I just got notified today that they loved my piece, and that it was in their top 100. That means I made the first cut and now have to make a 2 minute video for them. Problem is, the video must be submitted by May 15th, and I only was notified TODAY of the next round. Also, I know nothing about shooting and editing vids....so I'll need to find help. Luckily, Andrew Vo knows a great film maker who goes to IRHS who is filming his "Telephone" video, and gave me his contact info. I messaged him so hopefully he can help me! I can DIE happy if I get to interview Apolo! Ahhhh!!!!
That's alllllllllll.
Adiossa
Friday, April 30, 2010
Grrr (UPDATED)
Okay. So a little over a month ago, I did a shoot for Aveda Salons. However, I have yet to get my photos back from that shoot, and I know for a fact some of the other models who were there got their pics back. So what is going on here? I contacted the photographer a couple hours ago and the message said "message read" on the site so I know he's seen it. Hmm. I'll give it a few days before I get mad. Anyway, though I've done like a billion shoots I really wanted the pics from that one, since the makeup was crazy rad.
I've got the pics now, Lady Gaga meets Candyland, check it out check it out:
These pics will serve as advertisements for Aveda.
Speaking of shoots, I have one tomorrow. It's for U of A's Campus Catgirl Contest and it's been sponsored by some salon. So they're going all out, apparently they're putting in extensions and all that jazz in me. Hair and makeup will be done on site, and for the first time ever for me, wardrobe will be provided. The shoot will take place at 2 locations, one at Caruso's Restaurant, and the other with some motorcycles. The one at Caruso's will be elegant, and I'm assuming the biker one will be... biker-style. Pretty cool, I'm looking forward to it. It's gonna be me and two other models.
So RAY TAYY TAY is in T-town with her boyfriend Kevy-Kevv. Except I found out via Kevin that they will be in San Diego for the weekend..... way to inform me Rachel! Well at least they'll be here for the Cinco De Mayo festival! Can't wait.
Also, I'M FUCKING SICK. Okay, I know I get sick a lot but this is ridiculous, even for me. The good news is that it's only a sore throat and slight ear blockage. So hopefully this won't turn into a full blown case of H1N1.
Ok. That is all. I hate boys right now, though I had a pretty sweet dream last night about Justin Beiber. Yes he's underage, NO it wasn't a sex dream, and YES I know that's still slightly creepy.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
I fucking HATE UAccess
Okay. So get this. Webreg, which was the U of A's former class registration program. Because it was pretty shitty, the school replaced it with a program called UAccess. Cool right? No. That program is one sent from the devil himself. Or herself, if you're thinking about Sarah Palin.
The idea behind UAccess is good in theory, even if it doesn't execute well. You can browse classes you want for the next semester and add them to your "shopping cart," much like you can on eBay or Amazon. Then, once your registration day comes, all you have to do is go to your cart, click the "enroll" button, and voila, you're enrolled for next semester!
But no. That fucker did NOT work for me. At all. First, since I'm an honors student, I registered April 19th, a week before I would have otherwise had to register with the sophomores. So I had my shopping cart all set and when the time came, I hit enroll only to be faced with 6 red Xs. Apparently, priority registration for psychology starts the 19th. But whatever. It was just one day. The next day I tried again and was able to get into some psych classes, but was NOT able to get into any trads or indvs, because they were "full." Well sucks for me right? I can't do anything about it since the classes were full right? NO because ON AVERAGE THERE WERE 149 OPEN SEATS IN EACH OF THOSE CLASSES. WTF right???? So I called tech support and they said the provost put those classes on freeze for the sophomores and freshman, and since I am classified as a junior, couldn't get in.
Well Aditee, looks like you're gonna have to wait a week. Well I did my 2.5 readers, I did. Expecting everything to go smoothly, I signed on and tried again. However THIS time, I couldn't add anything because the max amount of units I could add lowered from 19 (honors) to 16, which means that if I tried to add another class I couldn't because I would exceed the max. Then I tried swapping for a class to add one and it STILL didn't let me do that. From the same class to another time. "Consent from department required." I repeat, WHAT THE FUCK?
So fuck you UAccess.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Bend, and SNAP
Today I tried Julianne Hough's cardio ballroom workout. And holy shit. It kicked my ASS.
Let me just start by telling you that I've danced for many years. Ballet, jazz, tap, modern, whatever, and I was pretty damn good. I even was a cheerleader. It's where I get my flexibility. However, I didn't realize that ballroom dancing was so different. Lot's of hip action, lots of fast, precise steps. Julianne is this tiny Mormon blonde girl but she cracked the whip. I didn't even make it through the whole DVD, and I was sweaty and breathless. It was A TON of fun, but I would have had even more fun if it was Julianne's DWTS partner Apolo Ohno teaching my how to swing my hips...... I would love to get sweaty and breathless with him....
Anyway, I have a new found respect for ballroom dancers. And the women have to do it in HEELS. I am thinking of joining the ballroom dance club at the U of A next week!
Mmmm Apolo.......
Thursday, April 15, 2010
White Houses
I want to deviate from my normal style of writing for a bit to address something serious. A few years ago, I was listening to the radio the day after Michael Jackson was cleared of all charges. The host was talking about a woman who waited outside the courthouse before the ruling with a cage of 12 white doves. For each charge Michael was acquitted of, she released one dove into the air. I remember marveling over how passionate people can be over a cause they wholeheartedly believe in, because I don't think I've ever been driven to do such a thing in my lifetime.
That's not to say I'm not a passionate person, or that there isn't anything in my life that I'm passionate about. It's just that the things I believe in haven't really been challenged directly to my face, in my personal bubble or in my small society. That changed, however, when I received the devastating news this past Monday that 45 out of 81 teachers at Ironwood were going to be terminated at the end of this spring semester due to budget cuts.
At first, I honest to God believed this was some kind of mistake. How ridiculous! Fire 56% of a staff for a school with over 2000 kids? Once I confirmed this, I was shocked, outraged, shattered, and confused. How could this happen? How could we let this happen? I understand that the state has a huge and detrimental shortage of money, but it seems absolutely detrimental and counterproductive to cut money from schools. If you are a farmer who grows roses to sell, you don't destroy the beautiful and healthy roses you already have because you know an upcoming drought is just going to kill them anyway. You work to find a solution to take care of the roses you have now and find a way to cultivate new ones when the hard time is over.
Where would any of us be without teachers? I can't stress the importance of both a good education, and the impact a teacher can have on your life. From my own personal experience, I have been positively influenced my teachers I look up to and respect in the most dramatic and profound ways possible. Some of my teachers at IRHS have gone above and beyond for me and many other students not only within the classroom, but out of it as well. For the rest of my life, Despite the fact that I'm a sophomore at U of A, I will always feel more at home at IRHS than at U of A, even after I graduate from here.
No teacher can say that they are in their job for the pay, but rather for their passion for teaching and helping students. It is well known in developmental psychology that the preteen to developmental age range is the most sensitive one of all. In high school, students are on average 13-19 years old--a very impressionable and malleable age range in which the presence of a positive role model is absolutely essential and can sometimes quite literally mean the difference between life and death. So many students are positively influenced by teachers who have helped them in their school life and home life, myself included. Every adult has that one teacher they still remember, years later, as someone who helped, influenced, advised, or changed their lives for the good. With the reduction of teachers comes the reduction of positive role models for a student population that needs them the most. Not to mention, the severe devastation caused to the lives of teachers who have lost the colleges they consider family as well as the ability to provide for their families at home.
I attended the board meeting that finalized the termination of contracts on Tuesday. 600 students and faculty members attended and made heartfelt signs and speeches. I was unnerved to see teachers I grew up with and respected cry at the prospect of not losing their jobs, but at the devastation and harm caused to the students. Once again, they put the needs of the students before their own, and I'd never witnessed something so sad and heart wrenching.
There's a reason why Arizona is 50th out of 50 states for public education funding.
It's important to realize that the board is not at fault. They were just left to make the hard decision for an irresponsible and corrupt state legislature. However something needs to be done, and while the students are IRHS are doing their best writing letters to state legislatures, rallying and campaigning, there's only so much they can do without help. For the first time in my life, I've found something I'd release doves for standing in the 118 degree Tucson weather. I urge whoever comes across this blog to take a stand--for our teachers and yours, past or present. Even the smallest action says something big.
I'm praying for it...
Monday, April 12, 2010
RING RING RING RING RING BANANA PHOOOONNNEE!!!!!!!
Yeah, the title of this blog has absolutely nothing to do with what I'm going to write about. Actually, I don't even have a subject to write about. I did last night, but the internet was being totally gay so I couldn't post anything. And now I don't even remember WTF I was planning to write about. Guess I might as well say something about the title. The most recent encounter I've had with either a banana or phone was when I walked in on Megan C. putting a condom on a banana with her teeth while engaging in phone sex last night. Guess Carmen Sandiego rubbed off on her too much.
Adios!
Friday, April 9, 2010
It's Fucking 12:48am and 911 is Dialed On My Phone
You would think that after living in the ghetto-est part of Tucson for nearly 7 months that I'd get used to all of the creepy noises I hear as the sun sets. These noises include but are not limited to: cop sirens, ambulance sirens, thugs on the street cussing, thugs on the street talking with their gangsta homies, screams, car back firings, and the occasional gunshot. What I am NOT accustomed to? Someone fiddling with the screen door at nearly 1 in the morning, getting it open, unlocking the main door and walking in.
Now, I know what you're thinking. "Aditee, time to lay off the crack habit you confessed to last blog. Obviously you don't live alone, so it was probably just one of your roommates coming home." Yeah. EXCEPT BOTH OF MY ROOMMATES ARE CURRENTLY IN THE HOUSE AND SLEEPING! Or so I thought. See, I got home around 11:00pm from the OV and Megan and I played the keyboard for a bit in my room. I asked where Emily was and Megan said she was sleeping. So after that, Megan said goodnight and I continued to fuck around on Twitter. JUST when I decided to sleep I hear this person walk in the house (my bedroom is right next to the front door). So I somersaulted out of bed, whipped out a katana that I had kept cleverly concealed in the frame of my bed and hacked through my bedroom door, ready to face my adversary in a battle that would surely have ended with the vile bloodsucker's head mounted to the end of my sword, dripping blood from the slippery ropes of its mangled neck cords.
Yeah...fuck that. What really happened is that I froze into place for 1.4753 seconds before CPR/First Aide/Emergency training kicked in. I grabbed my cell, punched in 911 then rushed out of my room to meet the foe head on. At the same time Megan came out of her room, looking terrified. Then we realized that it was just Emily coming home from a drive. So no, she was NOT asleep in her room, MEGAN.
So yeah, there's my interesting tidbit for the day. But the reason it was particularly scary is that apparently earlier today, when I was in the OV, Megan and Emily heard someone fumble with the door. As in an attempt to get in. As in someone could have robbed/raped/killed us.
Or.... was that mystery person me?
Unfortunately, that's for me and Carmen Sandiego to know...
Adios... Charles.
P.S. For those who don't know, a Katana is the formal name for a Japanese Samurai sword. This is the only thing I learned from Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego? The answer to that question, kiddies, is that she is in bed. With me. Anyway, who said you can't learn from computer games?
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
I Would Blog Right Now
But I have no time. I'll write a more extensive blog tomorrow. I hope I wasted at least 17 seconds of your time reading this half-ass blog. Toodles!
Monday, April 5, 2010
The Skeletons In My Closet.
So I was reminiscing today for the hell of it. I don't know why, so don't ask. No, I don't have a cool and outlandish event that occurred that triggered the sudden recall of this memory. After all, memory is first encoded then stored in long term memory and can be recalled at any moment, regardless of trigger. Anyway, I was thinking about life in sheep school...
Sheep school? WTF? Is Aditee on crack? Yes. But we'll address that issue later. For those of you that don't know me, (which is actually no one reading this blog, but for old times sake I'll give a refresher) I attended a small charter school in Flagstaff, Arizona 3rd-6th grade. Instead of learning, oh, I don't know, math and history and science and all of that jazz, I learned about Norse Mythology, the movement of the stars and how to make hand-dipped beeswax candles. No math. No history. No science. If you had said to me, "Explain what the outcome of the American Civil War was," I would have looked at you blankly and wordlessly handed you a hand-knitted muffler made from the wool of the sheep we looked after at school. Yes. You read that right. We had to raise sheep, reap and flax the wool, and spin it on a Sleeping Beauty style spinning needle. Hence the name "sheep school." I wouldn't have won the Scripps National Spelling Bee at that point in time or anything, but if you needed someone with mad Medieval-housewife skills I was your homegirl.
So back to the memory. Each year in sheep school we took a field trip. In 6th grade we went to God knows where but for those of you visually-oriented folks picture this: A bleak forest setting with tall trees and gray skies. And in the middle of that forest was a dull gray clearing where we made camp. For that whole week, we had to attend dueling lessons in the clearing complete with authentically-proportional-to-our-height wooden swords. The one thing that stands out from that event was that my groups' swords were gold, and everyone else's were silver, and that's because we were bitchin'. Anyway, at the end of the week my whole fucking tent was woken up at sunrise and handed white shroud-like outfits. We threw them on ourselves and followed our teacher out to wherever the fuck we were heading.....because we sure as hell didn't have a clue. Oh did I mention I was fucking blind during the whole thing? Due to the fact that we were woken up so early, I didn't have time to put in my contacts, so it was a bit like trudging through a Blair-Witch-Project-like movie scene. After winding our way through the damn forest behind our teacher, we ended up at a stream, where, one by one, we were lead up to the edge and "anointed" by our teacher. Really this meant she pored fucking ice cold water on us while we were bent over at the edge of the stream.
Yes, this really all did happen, and yes, it sounds like something out of a bad Vatican City sex scandal movie. But this is what it is. Does that explain why I'm so creepy today?
Ciao sexies.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Blah, Blah BLAH
I'm sitting in Megan C's room. Why? I don't know. I'm in one of my crazy-funky moods where I'm having fun being weird and annoying her at the same time. Usually the two go together simultaneously. Anyway, she just finished listing the "thing you can't find on Google" as my G-Spot, and therefore her "super power" as finding G-Spots.
Such a motherfucking creeper right?
GAGA OOOH LA LA!
Sorry we were just listening to Bad Romance. Now we're listening to some tear-inducing shit played on a techno violin. WTF?
Uh. There's really no point to this blog. I'm just stalking Megan as she sets up her very own blog for the first time! Aww my baby! Pooochi poochi pooo!
Friday, April 2, 2010
It's Been a While Huh?
Um...well the last time I blogged was the summer of 2009! I have like, 0 followers so this is more like a public diary. Anyway....on to what I've been up to.
After the summer I started my sophomore year at UA. Originally I was planning to transfer, but for many reasons I stayed. Mainly because I grew to love it. I taught a small English class, that was fun. I moved into a house 7 minutes away from campus with Megan C. and another girl named Emily who I went to high school with. We each had out own room and living there was pretty bomb. I also made some new friends... some more significant than others. It was the greatest semester I had to date! I went out, I had fun, I schooled and I lived.
But it ended badly.
As Christmas drew near drama was unfolding, revelations were made, words were said and heard, then eventually misunderstood. I lost a good friend, and the blow...just...hurt. There's no better way to say it. The worst part was that the reason I lost this person was due to a lie. Well, I guess a misunderstanding is a better way to put it. But now that person won't listen to the explanation so.....
But I digress....
The point of this blog isn't to ramble on about that issue--my best friend can attest to the fact that I've already done that in person. Many times. My point is that this whole episode impacted my life, in both good and bad ways. The bad for obvious reasons, but the good? Basically, I learned. I learned more about myself, what my limits were, what I could and could not handle, what I did wrong and what I should never apologize for. It hurt, it sucked, it involved fights and tears and despair. But in the end it was another lesson. Isn't that how most things in life are? You can either wallow in the pain or try to find a message or a lesson in the mess and try understand it so you can avoid the whole conundrum the next time something like that rolls around (hopefully it doesn't, but hey, who knows who calls the shots?).
Since then, my life has returned back to its former low-keyness. I school, and that's pretty much it. Model here in there. A few dates here and there. But it's good. Nice and calm. I had a blast visiting Rachel Tay in Vancouver over spring break. Can you say Apolo Ohno and JR Celski obsession? LOL. No, it was good to see her and it was good to get some northwest fresh airrrr. Rachel is as bat shit insane as ever (can you say umbrella penis?) but I love her and I wouldn't have her any other way.
Ok enough. Next time =)
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