I'm Blue (Da Ba Dee~)

I've made it a habit to avoid eating blue, sugary candies. I force myself to stay away from lollipops, candy canes, fun dip, and of course ring pops with blue coloring. Green and purple can be particularly nasty as well. I don't mean that I don't enjoy the flavory goodness of something grape, or green apple, or blueberry (cause those flavors are incredibly delicious). It's just that when I eat those kinds of foods I end up walking around half the day looking like a fool without even realizing it.

This is an over-dramatization of a real life event.

Nobody ever tells you when your lips/tongue are blue. I mean, sure, sometimes you run into an awesome friend who always tells you when you look stupid... but most of the time that just doesn't happen. Instead you are left with a mouth full of blue (herpes) and a bucket full of embarrassment. 

Having a blue/purple/green mouth isn't really something that will humiliate me to the point of breaking down into tears and running for the bathroom... but it's more about the principle of looking stupid without anybody saying anything to you. They just judge you internally.

You see, it's like there you are, walking down the hallway thinking you look all good looking and mysterious with your mysterious lollipop full of blue mystery flavors and deliciousness:

When suddenly you spot your reflection in something metallic and the entire picture you painted in your head about how you see yourself has shattered.

WHAT YOU THINK YOU LOOK LIKE:

WHAT YOU ACTUALLY LOOK LIKE:

The drastic switch from good-looking to monstrously hideous can throw your game off a bit if you don't see it coming. 

I'm not saying that everyone can't pull off the "blue-lips" look, but in most cases it just makes you look like you are extremely cold and dying of hypothermia.

In any case, I think I'll stick to eating my blue candies at home, where only my cats can judge me my cats will continue to shower me with unconditional love. 

The Toothpaste Scenario

When it comes to mornings, I am not the most attentive person in the world. I space out a lot. Sometimes, when my thoughts are back in dreamland and I'm running through the motions of my everyday routine... I do some pretty stupid stuff.

Like yesterday.

I was listening to my morning salsa jams when I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth.

I probably should have been paying more attention to what I was doing, but I'd had a dream about a bunch of rhinos pretending to be famous authors, and I was trying to remember what they'd said to me. It had to be important.

The moral of the story? There is none. I'm just an idiot.

In other news, I'd like to take a moment to help my friend Darin shamelessly promote his blog.
This one is for you <3
unspoken words to unexpressed thoughts

Why Can't I Draw Unicorns??

I don't know why, but I can't seem to draw unicorns right. It's bothering me.

In case you haven't seen my past two attempts at drawing a unicorn on paint... well here you go:

SO OLD.

SO NOT OLD.

It really shouldn't bother me this much... but it does. I mean... look at them. They're hideous. If they didn't have horns they'd just look like... I don't even know.  I know I've drawn some pretty crappy pictures in the past, but this is just sad.

Anyway, I'm hoping to redeem myself by drawing a somewhat not horrible unicorn. I'll take anyone who cares to follow through my process of bettering my unicorn drawing skill.

STEP ONE: Try again and pray it looks pretty.

MY EYES. THEY BLEED.

STEP TWO: Cry in a corner

Done.

STEP THREE: Look at an internet picture of a unicorn and draw on real paper to gain back self confidence.

Objective. Complete. 

STEP FOUR: Forget all about your original task of drawing a good unicorn on paint and focus all of your energy on making this hand-drawn unicorn look spectacular because you've already invested a hell of a lot of time in it.

STEP FIVE: Shed tears of happiness.

After drawing this I wondered why I never just scanned my pictures onto the computer to begin with. Then I looked at the clock and realized just how much time I'd just spent on drawing a single unicorn. Mystery solved.

Free Writes- Part 1

So a while back I shared with you a piece from my Composition class journal. To be honest it wasn't the most interesting one in there.  In fact, as it so happened, the most passionate journal entries I wrote were about my hatred of Free Writes. The Free Writes would be journal entries that had no prompt, where we could write about anything we pleased. It's actually incredibly ironic how much I hated them.

I really don't know what it was, but I always had such a hard time thinking of something to write. Kind of weird... considering I keep a blog... which is pretty much just a giant free write...

Anyway, I figured I'd share some of my heart-felt hate writing. There are quite a few entries about this, so I'll only post a few and then add more at a later date.

Journal #23: Free Write


I present to you the difficulty that comes with writing a free write journal entry:


You enter a classroom. Sit down. look up. Your eyes search for the journal topic, but all they find are two empty words: "Free Write". They hold so much power, and yet none at all. You sit, stare, and ponder. What really comes with those words? Endless possibilities, endless choices, yet no guidance. Your mind jumps around like a bouncy ball. What can there possibly be to write a page about? You sit uncomfortably, staring at the blankness of your paper and the stillness of your pencil. Minutes tick away and you see others writing, clearly not having as much trouble as you are. Desperate, you open a folder, taking out the list of possible things to write about. It tells you to describe puppies, rainbows, and unicorns. Hell no. Your eyes scan the list once more, but it provides nothing but a desire to incinerate your notebook. What is there to write about?! You think about your day, but nothing special happened. Family, friends, thoughts... nothing. it's too early in the morning. Others have finished writing, and you feel preposterous with an empty paper and a blank mind. You decide all free writes should cease to exist, because the only thing that inhabits your mind is how difficult it is to fill a page on a free write day.


The irony. It hurts.

Needless to say I'll be writing about puppies, rainbows, and unicorns tomorrow just to prove my past self wrong.

Here is another, in poem form.

Journal #32- Free Write: A Poem of Malice


Free writes are nasty, lame, and cruel...
Truly the last thing I'd want to do in school.
For a journal topic just make a decision
Before my head and this desk have a collision.
Instead of working on my essay,
I have to think of rhymes that now look quite mess...ay.
So many essays and tests my brain is fried,
But this free write has made it shriveled and dried.
There really is nothing to write about,
No blizzards or tornados or even a drought.
This free write rhyme started out okay,
But with more space on the paper I'm running out of things to say.
This free write in my honor I did miss.
but who's to say it wasn't on pur...piss.
Just kidding, Mr. B, you know I am,
Because I have to make it up anyway... some plan.
I can write about anything, anything at all.
This hat, those shoes, or even the mall.
Except I would like to see you try,
To write a whole page about a hat without starting to cry.
So with malice I write this free write poem,
Because all I want is to go... hoem.


In case you were wondering, my teacher had been so amused by my free write hatred that he'd assigned one in my honor the day I was absent. Unfortunately I still had to make it up.

So yeah. I'm not really sure how I went from hating writing about anything at all to doing exactly that every Friday... but it's happened, and I don't hate it anymore. Actually, I'm a bit pissed at my last year self for being such a whiner. Then again, later on the free write hate letters get kind of funny... so props to my old self for that... but still. I.. never mind. Just ignore me right now. I'm confused.

Expect a post about rainbows, puppies, unicorns, hats, the mall, and "those shoes".

The Basket Ball Incident

On one particular school day:

Procrastination- You're Doing it Right

"Tomorrow is often the busiest day of the week"

~Spanish Proverb

This is true. No matter how little work I actually have assigned throughout the week, I still manage to congest the day before a deadline with way to much to do.

Take this week for example. I had to read and take notes on a book, which is a relatively simple task. If I had spread it out over the allotted time, it probably would have only taken me about half an hour a day. Instead, I did it all last night, this morning, and during lunch. 

I'm not really sure how it happened... but it may have gone something like this:

Procrastination is unavoidable. The sudden stress of having too little time to get something done makes those things get done ten times faster than if you had all day to do it. Not only that, but there's a bit of pride involved in procrastination. I know it's a bit twisted to think like this... but who's going to go around bragging to their friends that they worked on their ten page paper everyday for thirty minutes for a month? No, the real hot shots are the kids who walk into class the period before it's due with blurry eyes and a smug expression. They're the ones who get applauded as valiant homework warriors with the will power to pull an all-nighter.

Sure, the person who finishes their project last minute will most likely complete something remarkably crappier than the other kid's, but by that point it doesn't even matter. You're so hyped up over the fact that you finished and no longer have to worry about beating the clock that the actual quality no longer carries any importance whatsoever.

Anyway. I'm sure by now you readers are no strangers to procrastination, so I'm not here to lecture you about it. I just wanted share with you my after-completion face:

This portrait was not intended to be dirty in any way... so stop it. >:C

In other news, here are pictures of my two classy cats. Thank you, April, for the supply of mustache. 

The Last Day of Break

Well. This is it. The last day of break.

There is no way I'm going to have enough time to post as often as I have over the past few days, but I'll still post every Friday and maybe more, like I did before.

Ehhhhhh. You should see my face right now. Oh wait. Here. It looks like this:

The last day of break is impossibly depressing. It's the day when I look back at all that I've done this week and think, wow. I'm a lazy-ass bum. Come, look with me.

Bed fortresses construct themselves. No effort required.

I seriously did nothing else.

It's supposed to be a drawing of my car. Don't judge. I forget what I did in my car... but I went somewhere. At least... I think I did.

Ten minutes of editing essays and then clicking submit to my final college app... Ten hours of watching heart warming movies as I congratulated myself on being done.

The lost day. I have absolutely no recollection of what went down. I didn't drink or anything... I just honestly can't remember this day ever existing.

I am the Shakira of Just Dance 3. It's some serious shit.

This is when I realize I need to finish homework assigned for someone with a week's worth of time in one day.

Happy new year.