Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Away in la la land

I clearly haven't been blogging in the last few months. No, I was not one of the chosen ones on Judgement Day, unfortunately. I just can't catch a break in this dog-eat-dog world! Too busy for this blogging business, but I will be back at it in September. Promise to myself.

Friday, May 20, 2011

The End is Near

Hello fellow brain bursters,

Tomorrow, your brain is really going to be bursted. I have made a video to educate and share my sentiments about Judgement Day with you.

First, a pre-story. My housemate, Bertha and I (yes, I am still going with the fake names), were just hanging out one starry night, when our nonchalant chit-chat suddenly turned very serious. Yes, I am talking about Dr. J. Here is a video clip of part of our conversation...


Yes, this is how we spend our nights. No, Bertha is not a monkey.

At the end of this conversation, she told me that some people she knew thought the world was going to end on May 21st. I was obviously struck with curiosity! I then researched Judgement Day for the rest of the night. I was obsessed. And it is coming upon us this very next day! Prepare yourselves.

And now a message.


I wish you all the best of luck on being saved tomorrow. If not, I'll see you in the End of Days. But, if I disappear tomorrow, don't worry, I'll just be peacing out of good old earth.

Extra scene cut:


P.S. I am sorry that the videos are so quiet. Unfortunately, I am not a video editing connoisseur. 

Tuesday, May 10, 2011


Throughout the past few weeks (or possibly months - I am horrible with anything involving time (a.k.a. life (I love parentheses))), I have come across some old pictures of events that I have written about in my previous posts. I am now going to give the world the pleasure of witnessing them, if not for entertainment, than for proof that my stories are indeed true. 

Cinderella and Snow White mean business.
Okay, and to your up is me, my sister, and my step-brother trying to take care of an infant, (who happens to be my step-sister).

This is clearly not a good idea (as you can see from the mischievous look on my face).

As my first post explains, these circumstances could potentially lead to finding a baby with a bottle of wine, as I found my cousin on one such occasion. She was a cute little squirt, but clearly needed to go to infant AA (and/or have a better babysitter). Look at that innocent face. Okay fiiiiine, I'll let you suck on it a little longer. (That's what she said.)

Can't say I blame her, I love wine time.
Next up: my preschool recital/play thing in which I sat in silence, like an idiot, all the way through. This picture is from the end of the show. Amazingly, I am not sitting in my seat, but am actually standing up for the finale! Still, I am not happy. (That's me in the attention grabbing (why??), poofy pink dress on the left.)

Get me the hell out of here.
Below is a picture after the show, once I am safe and sound in my padre's arms. I seem completely content here. What a weirdo. 

At least I recover fast.
Finally, I have found one singular photo of me in my prized Mary costume from my momentous Christmas play. This was a proud moment for me. My sister has her teeth (or lack thereof) to show off, apparently my brother has some flowers to flash to the camera, but I need nothing to dazzle with, just the glory of my leading role. 

Trying to be one with my role as Mary. Brother, sister, don't care. 
And that concludes these added side dishes to my previous posts. I hope they were delightful, juicy, and tantilizing. Cheers!  

Sunday, May 8, 2011

An Ode to Mom

I wanted to write a post to say happy Mother's Day to everyone, and to thank my mom for picking me out of the Cabbage Patch garden (that's where babies come from, right?). 

I've put together a little montage, if you will, in honor of my mother. I was looking through some photos the other day, and found some school photos of my mom, my sister, and myself, and couldn't help but notice the striking resemblance (besides my albino-ness). I was so obsessed with these pictures, that I had to share them in my vlog, which needs some love anyway. 

And here begins the photo gallery:

My Mom circa 1970's
Sister circa 1990's

Me, circa 1990's

Mom, circa earlier 1970's
Sister 1990's 
Me 1990's

Well, that was lovely. Happy Mother's Day to all! 

Monday, March 14, 2011

The Show Must Go On

I have been procrastinating on writing a new post for this blog for almost a month now. Although, I know that reading this blog is on the top of everyone's to-do list, I hope that all 17 of my die hard followers will forgive me. 
When I was thinking about what to write for my next post, I realized that my original intentions for this blog might have been a little unrealistic. I'm not sure if I can say everything (or anything) I want to if I want any of my graduate school paid for, if you know what i mean... Maybe my book can wait after all? Muaaahhh. I felt like something light-hearted should end this paragraph, but all I could think of was muaaahh. 
So, I don’t know where to go with this blog. It may end up lost in cyber-space. I could turn it into a photo-journal blog. (I know, original.) Testing, testing. This is my friend Becca’s eyeball. 

And here’s some bubbles.

But if I did turn this into a photo-journal blog I think it would be a little more engaging than that.
Or maybe those poor souls that I want to write about in my family blog could grin and bear it. Here is a little test blurp:
My step-mom thinks everything is cute. Literally everything. Of course there’s the inevitable - puppies, babies, small things in general. Then there’s the middle-ground/questionable - camels, plants, house decor. And then there is the extreme and unexplainable. We were walking down a neighborhood street in Salt Lake City a couple months ago, and she suddenly exclaimed, “those lamps are so cute!” 
Did she just say that the lamps were cute? In baby talk? That can't be right...

After many years of observing, I have come to the conclusion that her brain is wired to think everything is "cute" (she may also come from the same planet as my cat). But, in her defense, they generally are fluffy and/or small things, with only the occasional street lamp.

End of test blurp. That was fun.
Welp, I think that for now, this vlog will continue. It might venture away from the theme of my childhood/family from time to time (or maybe more...), but according to my boyfriend (who knows nothing about blogs), my blog doesn't need to have a theme! This is a revelation! He also told me that starting a new photo-journal blog would make me a blog whore. So, I am going to just pile all my brain bursts into this blog, no restrictions. Here I go, back to blogging, (and I'm not going to let studying for the MCAT hold me back anymore!! Hopefully.) 
On that note, who wants me to do their makeup?

(By the way, I was not a child stripper, as it may appear. I just didn't like wearing clothes.)

Tuesday, February 22, 2011


I lied in my last post.

I did have a moment of glory before the 2nd grade. It was in Kindergarten. I took piano lessons, and had to perform in the school piano recital. The piano teacher let each student choose what song they would like to perform from their song books.

I, however, told the piano teacher that I didn't want to play a song from any of my song books. I wanted to play my own song, one that has been passed down in my family for generations. (That may or may not be true, but my cousin did teach it to me.) So, I played the song for her.

The teacher listened to my song, and told me that piano recitals do not usually include singing. But, she could tell there was no stopping me, so she didn't put up a fight.

There is a home video of the actual performance somewhere, but I am far too lazy to go looking for it, so I have taken the liberty of reenacting my song for you. I do not own a piano, so I used an organ, which, believe it or not, was easier to come by than a piano in Isla Vista.


I know, I know, it's a masterpiece. This was a big hit at my piano recital, I swear. I stole the show with "I Dropped my Dolly in the Dirt". Oh, the glory days. 

P.P.S. This dynamic duo performs it much better than me. (Besides the fact that my piano skills are far superior...)

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Moment of Glory

I was a very strange child, which I think most of us were. 

If you were not, than something went wrong with your development. Or you are an alien, sent to this earth to spy on us - I can always spot them. They have none of the characteristic irrational and insane human behaviors. Aliens do animals wrong too. For example, my cat is an alien, (it likes water). But this is all besides the point, this entire paragraph is irrelevant. And I completely made up the first sentence (the rest is true). 

I very much loved to put on plays, fashion shows, etc. as a young little sprout. I regularly blessed my family with these spectacular performances. (My sister, however, did not get the fortunate opportunity to witness these productions as an audience member. I forced her to participate in my shows, usually making her play about ten different parts. I didn't think this was much to ask for in support of my superior talent.) 

Rehearsing. My sister not cooperating - I am pretty sure this was a serious piece.

As I was saying, my family had to endure these events, for which I was excessively dramatic and enthusiastic, putting all my focus and energy into my performance. Yet, in spite of my extreme intensity and dedication during these masterpieces, the general public did not get to experience my giftedness.

I was as shy as they come in front of all other people that were not in my immediate family. I think I actually had multiple personalities. All people - adults and children - frightened me extremely.

Example: During a school performance in preschool, instead of standing up and performing the clapping and singing routine I had practiced with the rest of the kids, I chose to remain in my seat and stare out into the audience in complete terror. It actually wasn't a choice at all. My body was literally paralyzed. I could see all the other children prancing around the stage, and it looked somewhat enjoyable. But I was frozen in place, making myself the only child who wasn't participating. I tried so many times to lift my little butt off that chair, but my panic had super-glued me to it.

As soon as the show ended, I switched from panic to humiliation, and immediately ran to my dad, bursting into tears. 

What no one knew, however, was that all I wanted was to be running around on that stage, all eyes on me. But, I was too shy to ever attempt anything like this in public. My brain was confused on what type of personality it wanted me to be. 

Fast forward several years later to me as a 2nd grader. My brain had still not decided, I was exactly the same. My school was holding auditions for the Christmas play - a Jesus version. The scenario reminds me of an episode of 'Raising Hope', except I was too old to audition for the part of Jesus. 

(Raising Hope: Toy Story)

Anyway, all the girls in school were auditioning for the part of Mary, the most coveted female role. You had to sing a solo for the audition. Not my thing, unless it was in my own theater bubble. My mother, however, forced me to audition. While I was waiting for my turn to try out, everyone was talking about how exciting it would be to play Mary. The room was buzzing with commotion and anticipation. 

I sat in silence and fear. Thank the Lord for me, the auditions were held in a private room with just the music teacher, one of the only reasons I agreed to my mother's prodding. I eventually got called in, and I did my thing. I was scared to death, but I managed to squeak the song out for my audience of one. 

So, I didn't get the part, and I told this story for nothing. 

Not. I got the part! It was the best feeling in the world. I was overcome with shock and joy. All the other girls at school were jealous of me, which is every elementary school girl's biggest dream. 

Yes, I did actually go through with the play, despite my phobia. The only way I managed it, was because the auditorium was dark, and I couldn't see anyone in the audience. I just pretended I was by myself. It worked like a charm. 

I did my little solo, (everyone, of course, loved it), and life went on. But I had finally gotten my moment of glory. And have never had one since, because I chose to major in Biology instead of moving to Hollywood and becoming the sensation that I was meant to be.

I also thought I was a model.