Farewell.

Last night here in California. Tomorrow morning I am homebound. I had so much to do around the house and only got about half of it done. Typical me. Always last minute and too slow to clean. I need to go to a therapist.

Visiting Tucson should be exciting. I am happy to get to see all my friends and fam. Unfortunately I don't know how much blogging or reading of blogs I will be able to do since I am no lap top samurai you see!

But I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and hope everyone has a wonderful time with their family and friends.

I am out of here!

Delirious.

It is 1:47 am and I am here staring sleepily at the template. See yesterday I saw the boy off and took him to the airport. I will see him again on Sunday as I merrily land in Tucson, AZ.

I have a little confession to make. I am a total wimp when it comes to sleeping alone. Its funny how you can sleep in a bed alone just fine when you know other people in the house but right now I am totally freaking myself out. Thinking about the creepiness of Paranormal Activity, and THANKS AE for talking about ghosts when you know I can't find the remote, thats really going to help me sleep tonight too.

So what is a girl to do?

Well I just stay up until my eyelids feel like sand bags and I am incoherent and so exhausted that my mind has no energy to stir up thoughts, it just blacks out. So around midnight I was starting to feel pretty tired. Throwing in a couple of yawns and blinking. So I went to Walmart and got some Christmas shopping done. That was productive. And now here I am half awake half asleep, ready to pass out.

But you know what, I NEVER go to Walmart. The Walmart nearest to where I live is called a variety of offensive names. It is Ghetto. (Yes, with a capitol G.) I'm talkin meth addicts, thugs, its a total circus. Surprisingly tonight it was rather calm despite the fact that Christmas is less than 10 days away.

But anyways if any of you are short on ideas as to what to get the ones you love they have personalized photo gifts there! You should all go to the photo center! I know I will tomorrow because at 1am in the morning there isn't an attendent there. How rude.

Okay, its bed time.

For your entertainment.

Some one found a new way to humiliate animals:

The blond bombshell-my personal favorite.

The wigs and a book about these glamourous pussies are on sale.

www.kittywigs.com/book.html

Would you?

My First Award

Guess what you guys???

 I got my  first AWARD (yes this calls for gold font.) : ) : ) : )

I would like to say thank you to Natalie over at Serendipitous.

She actually gave it to me on Sunday, but she caught me in a whirlwind of late sleepless nights, hard core study sessions, and not an all there brain. So there was a bit of a delay but not because it was unappreciated.

So now I guess I am supposed to choose 15 of my favorite blogs? Well stay tuned...

Nonsense.

I really shouldn't be here right now. I should be tucking myself into bed and nourishing these bags under my eyes with some much needed sleep. But I got that tingle, you know the kind you would get when you were a kid the night before Christmas? Something of that sort. I just felt inclined to write and so here I am at 2:41am and things look a little like this...

Finals week is rather hellish.

So I needed a break. See the boy went to bed rather early today because he is in a storm of finals as well. So I thought, I know.... lets have a stupid wicked dumb photoshoot. So I did that because he was sound asleep. And I would never do this while he is up because boys just don't understand the need to have a self photo shoot every now and then. Plus, I was feeling prettier than normal today?

Here I give you crazy eyes.

Here I would like to show you I have a neck.

Folks, I don't know what it is but my skin has been so flawless its scary. My skin hasn't been this smooth and even toned since before I hit the preteen years. People are like hey what are you doing?  I am like well...Drinking diet coke, eating eggs with omega-3's (20%  daily vitamin E for one egg and I eat two!) But other than that beats me. So let me be vain and document it for you.

I had to throw it in there.

Not done yet.

Look I am channeling Lindsay Lohan ( I hate my DAD!) jaykay.

Bags.

Okay done now.

So I was feelin' extra pretty today because one of the perks of losing weight is getting hit on more (let me enjoy my youth while I still got it okay). I stopped into good ol' Subway today to get me and the boy dinner because I am not cooking because its just too physically and emotionally demanding during finals dammit.

So this Mexican boy is getting all flustered trying to flip his knife and not catching it and just looking like a ball of total nerves. At first I thought drugs? Crack? Coke? Meth? Is this guy tweakin? I mean he was so flustered that it was making me uncomfortable.

So he's ringing me up  and it goes like this.

Mexican Subway Boy: "Do you want to get a Subway card?"

Me: "Oh no thanks I don't really come here that often."

Mexican Subway Boy: "Well you should really get one you can get free....blah blah blah"

Me: "No, its okay but thank you anyways"

Mexican Subway Boy (in a nervous rushed tone): "WellyoushouldreallygetonesoIcan make you more...more...sandwiches!"

Me: "Its okay I'll pass I don't come here that often. I haven't been here in a while"

MSB: "Really when was the last time?"

Me: "Probably like 3 months."

MSB: "No it hasn't been that long I would never forget your face."

Me: "insert nervous Kendra from Girls Next Door laugh here"

Take receipt and have a good night and scene.

It's coo' you know. But I am totally not hitting that Subway  for a looooong time to come.

I came home and told Ben and he had a good laugh. Oh he loves to laugh at all the stories I tell him when guys try to pick up on me. It hilarious to him in a fat, jiggly, man falls down semi-nude kinda way because thats the kinda laugh he gives. Kinda like hah, sucker. I win, you lose. Obvs he thinks he's stickin'  it to these admirers because they weren't able to conquer what he already has. Boys, I tell you. So territorial and primal. You just have to love them.

All fat, jiggly man jokes aside. Its funny how getting hit on really does motivate you to just stay lookin' good. See when I was getting tubby wubby I was showing some weight in my face and mid-section. Ugh, that is the worst for women. I mean is there anything more demeaning than just getting a gut and a fat face?

Please fat, share some of the glory with my ass or boobs, why always the face and gut? Genetics. Good grief.

See right after I got my hair cut a few weeks ago an Asian guy who goes to Stanford totally hit on me at Target. It was so cute. He stuttered an we made totally awkward conversation (because you can't just shout I HAVE A BOYFRIEND when the admirer hasn't even said anything remotely pickupish yet) then he was like can I talk to you sometime? And I said sorry I have a stinky boyfriend already  then we said awkward K take cares! (Insert Ben's muahaha laughs here)

So that folks is I guess why I felt like having a photo shoot today. Because its two for two in one month? Not too bad I thinks me gots my mojo back and up and runnin'?

Now you tell me, what ridiculous pick up lines have men used on you? Spill.

MaDM #1

OK so ya'll (I am southern now, fyi) know how I got all EMPOWERED with my I am going to help people and etc, etc.

Well I wasn't sure what I was going to do since I have pretty much shut myself from the outside world because I have mounds of crap to do for school (a 10-page paper, and studying for 3 finals, 1 final I haven't the foggiest idea of what has been going on in the class!).

So I was kinda like....????????

I am sure it wouldn't count if I did something for Herman (the cat) or Ben. Thats just the usual. (Although I did risk my life for Ben today because I went to go get him a pizza at Dominos then braved the liquor store to get him a Monster, mind you on a Sunday night, where no good people go to liqour stores. That is rather noteworthy if I do say so myself, and I do.)

So then I was like oh I KNOW! I will torture my classmates via email and send them tips on how to do their paper! Good one me. So that turned into oh hey thanks for the tips! Then the questions followed, oh the questions!

When is our paper due?

How do you cite a source?

When are our articles due?

When is our final?

Hey, can I have all of your 140 answers to the study guide?

Can I see your paper?

Do you want to be my friend?

Tuesday, here's a link, Tuesday in class, Tuesday all day online, Sure here you go, NO, and ehhh I'll think about it.

I answered every one's lame ass questions because they haven't paid attention in class at all and there they are at home, panicking, shitting in their pants, praying for a miracle. So I was like super dork today and just answered all of their questions and they returned my emails with feverish thank yous.

Thats my Making a Difference Monday. Now I know it didn't get you feeling all fuzzy and tingly inside but hey, I helped those poor bastards.

The seed and the fire.

How did it happen and where did it start? When did this little seed gently become planted then watered, nurtured, and loved? How did it begin....

I've been asking myself these questions as I've jumped full force back into writing. I started writing articles for Associated Content (if this works out okay I will let you know more about it. I am going to give it a few months before raving about it or ditch it), here on this blog, and sometimes on my food blog.

I thought about my 4th grade teacher Mr. Campos (r.i.p) who would read us Where the Red Fern Grows and I would listen intently while other rambunctious students bounced off of the walls. I would become enraptured. I thought about my outstanding english teachers at Mountain View High School in Tucson, AZ. Mrs. Morrill, Mr. Morrill, and Mr. Holt (r.i.p). I remember their encouragement and how my grades on papers tended to fairly higher  than my fellow classmates. I realized that they had noticed I had planted this little seed and they were there to help me grow despite how futile and helpess I felt.

When I was fifteen I wrote a poem about Mr. Campos in Mr. Holts class. The poem described Mr. Campos and how caring and tender he was and how all he wanted to do was teach us crazy kids, but no one would ever listen. And he would just look at us with those nurturing big brown eyes that were set on his full face. Slumped in the chair trying to read to us, his belly so large that sometimes we would get a peek at his under belly because his shirts flared away. At nine-years-old as my other classmates played with reckless abandon my little heart ached for this man.

Every now and then I run across the poem and sit, my heart aches like it did when I was nine, and then it aches again because I think of these two great men.  Two men who were selfless and helped me in ways I could never ever explain to them. Two men who both died prematurely of heart attacks.

I smile when I see what Mr. Holt wrote:
                                    
                                       Fernie,

This is wonderful! Type this up exactly the way

you have it here. Then let me see it again, if you will!

                                                                               Mr. Holt

I wonder if he wrote that simply because of my tender age or because it was how he really felt. Either way it didn't matter. It didn't matter to me because what he gave me was confidence and encouragement. Its a simple formula to help someone grow.

He saw a helpless little fire in me that needed shielding. It needed someone to hover over it and protect it from the obstacles that inhibit it from turning into a fury of flames, an untameable fire.

All of this made me think about my nineteer-year-old cousin.

My beautiful cousin Mariana.  If you saw her you would think she was beautiful because she is. You would see her straight teeth and radiant smile. Her long brown hair. Her athletic figure that people would kill for. You would see someone confident and who giggled contagiously. You might wish you had as many admirers as she, or were as invited to so many social gatherings.

But what you wouldn't see is her anxiety, her insecurities. You would never know that she grew up with an abusive step father who was an alcoholic and terrorized the family. A step father that despite knowing her since she was in diapers never considered her his own. You wouldn't know that her real father abandoned her  before she was even born only to walk into her life eighteen years later, then walk out again. You wouldn't know that her own mother and grandmother were on and off lunatics.

There is one thing you would see though, that would cause curiousity and speculation. Her finger tips are chewed raw and are bright red from the knuckle up from her bouts of anxiety. But, there would be a good chance you might miss it because she hides her hands rather well.

She is someone who I share similarities with and saw so much of myself in her.

She doesn't believe in herself and she is consumed by her insecurities spawned from an unstable environment.

But despite all of the adversity she is facing, she has planted her itty bitty seed.

And I will be there for her to nurture it and watch it grow.

Sadness and Sheer Beauty.

If you have never seen this website I highly recommend you go visit it. Its a beautiful story that might spark a few tears but I think it is well worth it.

dayswithmyfather.com

its excellently done. Simply scroll down and the content automatically slides into the next post and just keep doing that. Some parts are just pictures but some have text next to them. Its about 40 slides.

I loved it.

On another note, I am on page 1 of a 10 page paper and about to be hit with a blitz of finals. Whaaaaahoooooo. Who's jealous?

its time.

Sunshine on a cloudy day.

I am writing to you from Tiredville. Population 1. Hour: 1:30 am. Sanity? Low.

I've been thinking a lot lately in the midst of my problems I found myself droning in negativity and being a tad pessimistic on and off the past couple weeks.

(Hold on Ben is breaking my train of thought as he tells me something random -_-)  Yes he is also up at this ungodly hour.

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Ok I think he's done... Nope wait! ...
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There!

Okay as I was saying. I have been a bit of a Debbie Downer with the thoughts that have been running around in my analytical little head. But one can only think like that for so long before tiring of it. I've been thinking about being more proactively positive lately. Actually acting on a thought and not just letting it slip away and be gone forever.

How many times have we thought to say something nice but with held from doing it for one reason or other?

How hard would it be just to say...

Hey, your hair looks nice today? (Why thank you it only took me 2 hours to do it!)

Something simple. Something nice. Something sincere.

I started following Carrie from Carrot Speak (No she does not grow carrots) a while ago and saw she has a little thing called Making a Difference Mondays. She does a good deed then tells you of it. She's a real nice gal and the things she does are heartfelt and simple.  I love how she found a way to infuse positive vibes into her life. I've been a silent reader and observer of her MADM but now its time to jump in. Its time to get off my "Hilary Duff" as Ben would say and do something.

See, my life is full of unfinished good deeds. Thoughts that never transformed into a good deed and just went unattended. Here are 3 that haunt me.

1. Two years ago there was a little boy who was buying some comic book stickers in front of me while I was in line at Target. It was rather adorable he counted out his change and proudly waited to hear the amount as the lady scanned the purchase. He must have been about seven-years-old. Unfortunately the stickers were about 50 cents more than what he could afford. He dropped his head and simply slid the stickers back toward the cashier and said "Oh I am sorry I don't have enough, Thank you." And walked away towards the exit. I feel so guilty for not having bought the poor kid those stickers. I didn't even know him but to think of how it would have lit up his world makes me bite the inside of my cheek with regret.

2. A few weeks ago I got off work later than I had anticipated and rushed over to the Verizon store in order to get my brother a new phone. I strolled in there at about 7:45 pm and I was certain they closed at 9pm since they were located in a rather busy area. So I took my sweet ass time asking questions and pondering what a good phone would be and since you get caught up in these mental decisions you lose track of whats going on around you. When I came to, I noticed I was the only one left in the store and that one of the employees was starting to close the drawers. Shit. What time do you guys close? 8:00pm he answered. It was 8:20. I felt instant guilt because I used to work retail and it is the worst feeling in a world when after a long day of working some A-hole customer walks in 5 mins before closing only to take their sweet as time and theres not a damn thing you can do about it (except smile and hurl mental curse words their way through your clenched teeth). I quickly apologized and hurried. One of the reasons I also didn't notice what was going is because the Verizon employee wasn't at all rude to me, I heard no tones of urgence, not one loud sigh, no dirty looks. He just went on as if the store closed at midnight. When I left I thought to myself, I should write the head of the manager of this Verizon store a letter letting him know that I had recieved excellent customer service from a dude named Nic. But then I didn't do shit.

3. I was cutting through the grass with my friend Crystal on one of our routine walks through Lake Elizabeth in Fremont, CA when I found a dog tag. It was a blue bone-shaped tag with the name JoJo on it. I put this tag in an envelope addressed to the location on the tag and even wrote a lil' note in there saying "Found your dog tag! Thought you might need it : )." That envelope is still in my purse.

See aren't I just full of good intentions??? But I guess you would never know it huh.

Well those days are over.

Starting this Monday December 7th, 2009, I am going to start participating in the game and stop sitting on the sidelines.

GO ME.

Vapid and Shallow.

I am an avid reader of the website Perezhilton.com. Perez is a sassy, trash talkin', say it like it is, fabulicious homo-who makes me laugh and I love the rotten bastard what can I say? He refers to Lady Gaga as his wifey and raves about her being the NEW "Princess of Pop." Hmmm...

This got me thinking.

Many of Lady Gagas songs are on my iPod and they are incredibly catchy. I mean how can you not just jam out to P-P-P-Poker face, P-P-P-Poker face? Her songs get me movin' and groovin' when I am burning up the  calories on the elliptical or treadmill.

But while her songs are currently the most popular in the world of pop I definitly wouldn't deem her the new princess of pop. See we currently don't have a princess of pop. Our last one was Britney Spears before she had kids, lost her damn mind, then kind of got it back. I am a huge Britney fan.

I may have even gone to one of her concerts last April and screamed " I Looooooove youuuuuuuu Britneeeeeeeeeeyyyyy!!!" and taken over 100 pictures and woke up the next day with a sore voice. But hey those are just rumors you see!

Britney Spears has lost her title because she isn't nearly as popular as she was in the earlier years of the new millenium and I wouldn't say her new songs rule the radio.

Britney's Hey day.

See the "Princess of Pop" is the winner of all the categories in the popularity contest.

Here are the qualifications:

1. You MUST have the hottest pop songs on the radio.

2. Men must want to do you.

3. Girls should want to be you.

4. You should be pretty.

See Lady Gaga only qualifies for number one and for number four are the right angles and lighting but not overall. When Britney was at the peak of her looks, success, and fame, men couldn't stop talking about her. There wasn't a guy I didn't know that didn't once say "She's Hot" when she came on the T.V. Girls had pictures of her on their binders when I was in high school.

But with Lady Gaga I see people's reactions aren't the same.

While LGG is wildly refreshing with her androgenous style and outlandish attire at the same time you can't help but think, man she is fuckin weird. And she's not attractive in your conventional, generally accepted manner.

So with out a "Princess of Pop" I feel so lost and confused!

Who would you say is our current Princess of Pop???

I lean towards Rihanna because I think she is beautiful and wildly talented as well as professional and serious.

What do you think??

???

Thanksgiving.

Well this four day weekend came and went far too fast. On Thanksgiving I held no restraint. In the morning I hardly ate as I hastily threw together a pumpkin and sweet potato pie and that took about four hours. I was supposed to make them the night before but I laid down, meant to just relax and then hop back out of bed and get to it but the warmth of the sheets wouldn't let me out of their rapture. It was totally worth it. 

My Thanksgiving was wonderful everything was absolutely perfect. All of my favorite foods were present and I ate until my little belly swelled with pride and pushed on the top button of my jeans. Its Thanksgiving for crying out loud what do you expect me to be like this?

This Lady is a LOSER.

But I did go and exercise on Saturday and Sunday so I guess it some what evened it out.

This whole weekend my computer was under construction as the boy DELETED everything I had on it and restored it back to factory settings. The hopes of being a laptop samurai isn't in my near future but hey he got the computer I have now up and running a lot smoother. (Expect me around your neighborhood hoodlums!)

I am feeling very loved by my boy these days and that is a grand feeling.

Lemons.

Lately I've been hit with a spell of unforunate happenings that have been beyond my control. I sigh and sigh and sigh because really what can little old me do? I sat and wondered about God. I thought, God either loves testing us and thinks atta human, you got it see! You dusted yourself off and look how you pulled through! Or he's a twisted bastard with a rotten sense of humor and is one hell of a prankster. Maybe a bit of both? Don't get me wrong I believe in the big G-O-D, but sometimes you just want to go WTF man, whats the big idea here? And in return you get nothing but silence and are left to your own precious demise.

So I sit here and wait and watch this weird new path of his unravel and am just trying to make the best of it. I don't want to dwell in the negative because nothing good ever comes of that.

These past few months have not been my favorites, lets start in chronological order...

1. First week of school I got out of my first class earlier than anticipated so I decided to kill sometime and Facebook it. A message in my inbox reads as follows:

       I know you don't approve of mine and your fathers relationship but I just wanted

 to let you know  that soon you will be having a brother or sister. Take care.

Signed, Your Dad's 21-year-old girlfriend who is mind you two, two, TWO! years younger than you and who you've never met.

Massive punch to the heart.

What followed were sleepless nights and waking up with puffy eyes as I said good bye to the man I once admired and who I no longer felt I knew. A faint shadow of the man I grew up knowing. Just like that. Gone. Good-bye. Someone who left 6-years ago and never looked back. This was his final good bye. He gave up.

2. The only place I ever really considered home is up for sale in Tucson, AZ to the tune of 146,000. Its just a house right? It's part of my heart.

3. Mom calls to inform me my cat back in Arizona has been missing. Today its been a week. I feel helpless.

4. Someone hacked into my paypal account. But hey, thats no biggie.

So when life isn't being sewn the way you want it what do you do? Well, I can either sit here and sulk and think about what was, what could have been, and how throw myself a pity party. Or I can take a step back and see the good in my life. 

I chose option 2 after having myself a good hard cry. I put up my facade as best I could because I wanted to be functional and not call attention. But the other night I lost my shit and started crying. Ben didn't know what to do so he just stood in front of me and hugged me as I sat in my chair. I pressed my face into his stomach and cried hot tears and gasped for air inbetween wimpers and sobs. I hate crying like that. It's a mixture of hyperventilating and feeling like you might pass out.

He's never seen me this way. I must have really emanated a great deal of sadness because he started to cry and that boy never cries. In five years I have only seen him cry three times. 1. When his dad was being a major deuch and made him cry. 2. When he thought his 14-year-old dog was going to die from plyometra, and 3. The other night as I burrowed my sad little head into his belly.

But after I had that volcanic emotional release and let go of all of the emotions and memories I tied to everything that I mentioned above (minus the paypal because at that point that was like HAH, thats all you got Geezus?) I felt liberated.

I felt so lucky to be with someone who loves me so much. I felt happy that I was in good health and doing what I could with what I had. I felt grateful for the small stupid things that some see as insignificant like visits from Herman and Sir Scraggles always sleeping on my porch. I realized that bad things do come in three's but wonderful things come by the dozen.

My days have been feeling more like this...

Caught somewhere in the middle but the outlook is bright.

When you are feeling at your weakest, what helps you?

Beauty is a Bitch.

I had the most hellish experience getting a hair cut today ever recorded in my 23-years of life. When in search of a great place to go and with no recommendations via word of mouth, I am left no choice but to hit up Yelp. Surprisingly a lot of the salons with good reviews don't open on Sundays. And me being the impatient person that I am decided to go to some place with mediocre reviews.

I get there and this very cute guy named James greets me. He has gay written all over him because no straight man would style their hair the way he does. Oh well harmless eye candy for moi! So immediately we start talking and are getting along quite nicely. We go shampoo my hair and it felt like he took forever. So back to the chair we go and he had tangled my hair into a hot hot mess. It was like tangled up Christmas lights except about 10 times worse. "Wow your hair tangles really easily." He says. Funny, it never quite tangled like this before you touched it I thought to myself. ::Sigh:: I knew my stubborn ass got exactly what I deserved when you do things too hastily and impatiently.

This is how today went "So what are you studying..." Yank Yank Yank "Um....Ow...Um....Business Ow..." Rip Rip Rip "Oh really thats great...." Tear Tear Tear. Yank Yank Yank.

The boy had a fantastic personality but absolutely no grace. He man handled my poor little scalp as if he were pretending it was an ex who had done him wrong. "Sooooo what made you want to go to beauty school?" I curiously asked as my head lopped from side to side, I had become densitized by this point. "Oh I just didn't know what to do with my life so I decided to go to beauty school because its an easy way to get girls."

-_-

Apparently and only according to him he wasn't gay. In fact, he raved about how he loved dating younger girls. I still have my suspicions but with the grace he lacked maybe my gaydar is a little skewed since quitting the Gap 2 years ago.

He burned my ears a couple of times when flat ironing my hair and continued to yank the crap out of my fine locks and I cringed everytime I heard a precious strand snap. Surprisingly the end result wasn't as terrible as the process itself. It actually came out quite nice despite the fact that he said he didn't do hair the conventional way and did it the way he wanted, AKA he had no formal technique for making sure the hair was even or doing it the proper way it should be done.

Needless to say as nice as he was I WILL NOT  be going back. My tender scalp is feeling sore already. I could be mean and log into my Yelp account and tear him a new one but he is so green to the scene that I couldn't find the heart to do it. I am sure future clients who won't be as nice as me will be quick to let him know to ease up on the scalp abuse. And maybe he will learn and grow from there. If not, its  time for him to start looking for a new career because his ass isn't getting any referrals thats for sure!

Do you guys have any stories of having your hair butchered?

Friends.

A lot of you have chosen to follow my blog. Not only have you followed it, but you frequent it, and you like me enough to leave me some love and hit the Post a Comment button. Thats awesome and I am flattered and that makes me do happy dances for days. I know a lot of you may have noticed I don't comment back. I know what a bitch huh? What a self-centered, unattentive bi-YATCH! Right??? I don't blame you! I feel snubbed when I leave someone some love and they never give some back.

Well folks its not that I don't love you because I do, oh how I do. But you want to know what I don't love? When I try to browse through blogs and my POS computer either starts working at a snail pace or freezes. Thats a lot of fun. It's a real party waiting and staring blankly at the screen as it takes its sweet ass time to load. This desktop is an early 2005 model so it is most def time for an update. I've decided that it is time to get hip with it and get myself a laptop. All I really want in life is to be a laptop samurai don't you know?

Not only will I soon be able to browse your blogs at the speed of light, but I will be able to take my little friend with me where ever I go. Thats cool beans since I am going to go to AZ for two weeks in December. I didn't really mind my little ol' desktop when it was newer and ran better and when it was back in my own room. But now I am positioned in the living room which is practically the boyfriends domain. He is cool unlike me and has an hp laptop. I told him its time for moi to upgrade and he said BLASPHEMY! Your computer works fine for your school work, you don't need to be dickin around on the internet anyways he says. Whatever DAD. I told him I needed a laptop for my sanity so that I can go into the room and study if need be because Mr. Yada Yada is constantly breaking my train of thought when I am "in the zone." But also keep up with my frens on the interweb. What do you think about that?

So hang tight friends and realize I am not snubbin'. I know I am behind on leavin' ya'll some love but fret not when I get my new friend you will be seein' me in your parts of town pretty soon.

But from the bottom of my heart thank you guys for all of your comments and feedback. I read and I smile.

What more do you need in life?

(Oh and just so you know I've been responding to some of your guys comments on my page so subscribe or check back : P)

My Love.

I love writing. I love it so much that coming back to it has been a very emotional experience for me. I can't believe I stopped doing it. I guess once you graduate high school and satisfy your gen ed requirements for english in college; thats pretty much it for your writing career unless you are a journalism or lit major.

Writing makes me happy. It is theraputic. It lets all of these bottled up thoughts I keep in me flow freely on a canvas. It  gives me peace.

I didn't even know how much I missed it until I started writing for leisure this year. I feel like the blood pumping though my veins became more alive than ever. This must be the way a dancer who can no longer move to the rhythm of the music feels. Its a wonderful feeling to think and to feel alive and to question the world.

I hope all of you that have blogs find love and peace in your writing as well. My first attempt at writing out my feelings was about a year and a half ago I signed up for blogger and used my blog as a diary but didn't really write the way I do in this blog. I wrote more like I was thinking out loud and my thoughts were being transferred into print. It wasn't pretty. I didn't write often and when I did I didn't like going back to look at what I had written because I mostly came to write when I was feeling upset so my blog was full of negativity. It was my rant zone because when I first moved here from Arizona I felt isolated, lonely, and in a vulnerable place. I think I had like one follower and some how I scared him off. I don't blame the guy.

I started up a food blog a few months ago which you are all welcome to visit http://www.fernisfood.com/ and while I like it, its not as freeing as when I write on this blog. See to write here I don't have to cook you guys shit! I like that : D.  It wasn't until I found other people's blog where they wrote about whatever they damn well pleased that it occured to me that I could write again! Yes I could. I didn't care if one person read what I wrote or if thousands did. I just remembered I missed it and I don't really know what caused the rift between us. I guess life's obligations get in the way of what you love to do sometimes.

So all of you bloggers out there write to your hearts content and remember no day is ordinary. Write for yourself. Write what you want and how you want as long as it makes you happy. When Jen from http://www.exhotgirl.blogspot.com/ gave me a shout out on her blog and a bunch of you flocked to my page and clicked the follow button I thought, crap. Do I have to change the way I write to please these new folks to keep them around? What to do, what to do! So I just decided to be myself because I wouldn't be happy writing if I put up some fake facade. I figured those who didn't like it could leave and those who did were more than welcome to stay.

I have discovered some fantastic blogs because of Jen and I love visiting your pages and seeing what you guys have to write about. As cheesy as it sounds all I have to say is make your blog your happy place and a place you would find worth visiting a few years for now.

Okay. Thats all I gots to say for todays. Sweet dreams hoodlums.

About a girl.

I was in Union City waiting for the Richmond train to arrive. She came up the stairs with her cellphone pressed to her ear in primary red colored heels rambling about how she was hung over from drinking too heavily at a strip club the night before. Skin tight jeans with a shirt that didn't leave much to the imagination.  Her young skin contrasted with her overly processed and chemically damaged hair. Her roots were dark but the rest fell somewhere between orange and blonde. Faded pink streaks subtly ran through her multicolored mane. Her voice was  raspy for someone who looked so young of age. She looked no older than nineteen. There was a sadness to her soul that emanated from her being. She rambled for a bit longer and I heard her groan about how she had to go to work. I wondered what kind of job allowed such a dress code to be permitted. I thought and thought.

The train arrived and we both went into the same car. The Bart's arrangement of seats is strange. Some are facing eachother as if there should be a table in between and the rows of seats alternate in which way they face. If you get a window seat you are lucky because you have something to stare at but if you don't you find yourself tinkering with your cellphone or staring down intently at your shoes to avoid looking like a creep who stares at people.

A few times I would steal glances her way when she wasn't looking and studied her. She slumped in her seat and vacantly stared out the window seeming reluctant for what was next. Her red lips shone bright through out the crowd and her smeared eyeliner from the night before made her look even more troubled. I still wondered where she was going, where she worked, but I dared not ask her even if I was sitting near her.

The train went under a dark tunnel and as we were approaching a stop in Oakland she got up to make sure she was first in front of the plexi glass doors so she could see her reflection before exiting. She adjusted her breasts, ran her fingers through her hair to make sure it set right, and gave herself a quick look over. The way a young girl excited to go on a date with a boy she fancies does. Except this girl didn't seem enthused as she emptily when through the motions. She slipped a cigarette above her ear where a pen or pencil would normally go.

I figured out where she was going.

I wanted to save her.

Guest Post From Herman.

He stared at me looking so ridiculous for a few minutes before I made

 him put his tongue  back in his mouth.

You guys! Herman wanted to write you guys a post on how he was doing! *Oh-em-GEE*

Okay do you think I am totally coo coo now? Well good. I don't care what you think.

Actually I saw someone do this on a food blog and laughed so hard that I thought milk was going to shoot out of my nose. It was by a cat named Mr. Beanz.

If you are familiar with the website icanhascheezburger.com then you will get this. If you are not I am sure you have seen these funny LOLcats and cheezburger cats somewhere in cyberspace.

Hermans Guest Post:

Hay guyz,

I no some of uz r aminol luvrs and wuz wunderinz how I wuz doin' sinz I gotz no harez. Wellz I iz the samez as I ever waz. Jus wif less hare. But iz grwin backz. My fawster hoomanz keepz laffin' at mez but oder den datz theyz takin gud care of mez. I sleepz in dare bed and in the morninz I rubz my bawld spot on the lady hoomans forheadz and keepz it there til she wakez up. Tee heez. We connectz. I lay wif hur sinze the man hooman leavs earlyz til her lazy azz finally getz ups and she givez me fudz and then letz me outsidez to smell oder catz pewpz, and new flowerz, and whatevr oder new stuf I can getz my noze on. I lurned my lezzon for nowz to stop pikin fites wif oder catz. Espshually big blak catz that haz mor muczles than mez.

Tanks for readin my lady hoomans brog. She likez you guyz and likez to write. Sumtimes I sitz on hur lapz and get to wread all duh stuff she whytes befor u doz. Tee heez.

Ok. Daz allz I haz to say.

Lub yawrs truli,

Herman.

About time.

Well its about time federal aid gives this poor girl her money.  I am a do-gooder above average responsible student don't ye see!??!?!

I am happy dancing my ass off today!

Oh & the boy is a smarty pants he got nominated AND selected as one of America's Who's Who amongst College Students. He is up for a scholarship and will be in their annual book of excellent students. So proud of my boy. Told him he's got a big brain because he's got a big head!

2012

Oh I am sick of hearing the world is going to end all over again. In 1999/2000 when I was 13-years-old I said my good byes (mentally not verbally thank goodness!)  to all of my friends, family, and pets. And then do you know what happened at the stroke of midnight on the eve of December 31st, 1999??? NOTHING. Absolutely nothing. Everyone was all uppity about how Nostradamus had predicted it, and the U.S was going to become a 3rd world country because the computers were going to go haywire, and we were all either going to burn in the depths of hell or sing into the heavens. What a grand disappointment! At thirteen, virginal, and still innocent of mind my chances of getting into heaven were far higher than they are now. Oh well what can you do?

Do you think God would actually let his lovelies know they were going to die through a hollywood motion picture?

No, I think not.

Carry on people. Live your lives.

Can you believe it? Because I can't!

Can you believe in my 23-years of life I had never seen Dirty Dancing until this year? What a grand injustice I have committed against myself! I am in LOVE now you see. And its all new and relevant at this moment in my world. How sad is it that the great Mr. Swayzee is no longer with us. That makes me sad in my heart.

I am buying this movie and I am going to watch it over, and over, and over ,and over until I nauseate myself knowing every single word to the movie and whispering them before they are said.

I first saw it on cable t.v which sucks because you get interrupted by commercials constantly. But I was glued to the tube, in a trance. I love Baby. I love Patrick Swayzee's character, he's a bad ass with a heart of gold and crazy good dancing feet ...swoooooon.

This movie made me want to dance. And I am a  terrible dancer but I don't care anymore  because I want to move and I don't give a damn what people think or how ridiculous I look. Hear it! I will dance!

Manly stuff. & I need advice!

I am a man. I like to come home, throw down my shit, grab the remote and get to clickin' away on the tube. I like to sit with my legs crossed one over the other in a way that looks as if I am trying to protect my "jewels." I don't have the most feminine swivel to my hips. I'll take jeans and t-shirt days over skirts and heels anyday. It's not my fault I am this way. Its in my genetics. See my mom was a tomboy therefore she passed down her tomboyisms to me. Mama dressed moi in carpenter jeans with crazy yellow, blue, and red colored pockets when I was in grade school while the other girls wore pretty sun dresses.

Don't you worry I am not this bad!!!

So comes out the man in me when not a second after cracking open the front door arriving from a long day the boy wants to tell me all about his day. And do you want to hear what I hear?

Yada yada yada...doctor stuff.....yada yada yada femoral vein....yada yada yada...in class today....yada yada yada .....scientific details...

See I love my boy but sheesh give the woman a few to unwind. Or about an hour or so? And furthermore I haven't the slightest clue what the funk you are talking about when it comes to these theories, terms, and scientific language you speak of. I am a business major, stayed out of the science world for a reason.

But how do I let the boy down easy? While I don't want to be rude but it gets to be a tad much when its almost on a daily basis. We've had little spats over this to where I go " I don't know what the crap you are talking about and you know I don't" He says: "Well I know you don't but it helps me learn it better when I explain it to someone." Hmmm...so I am the subject of a learning experiment? Interesting.

See its funny how once the fog of infatuation clears and you realize, Holy Shit... you ARE just like your mother. See the boy's mama is a nice lady. A little rough around the edges but good of heart. But once she gets to yappin' theres no end in sight. May as well whip out your snuggie, kick off your shoes, and nod as much as possible and get your most convincing "uh huhs, Oh yeah! Oh reallys? and Wows" ready.

My boy does this too! His story will be simple and intriguing to start off with and I will genuinely have interest but thats when it snow balls into the well, since you found that interesting let me tell you about how the WHOLE process works and all of those little details.

-_-

Some body help me!

I vote he tells me the sweet and simple stuff and then tells Herman  the more complex stuff.

What say you? Yay or Nay?

Any advice??? Please share!

Mama.

Me and my Mama.

Mama, I can't believe you only had me when you were seventeen. You were just a baby.
I am 23-years-old and sometimes feel I can hardly take care of myself.

Mama, when I was seventeen I never thought I could ever make anything decent of myself. I never thought I was as beautiful or nearly as smart as the well off girls in school.

Mama, I am sorry for resenting you for never having graduated high school and not being able to help me with my homework. I want you to know I feel silly for ever letting myself think that way. I realize now I had to guide myself and I've become a stronger person because of it.

Mama, you've taught me that it doesn't matter how smart, or not smart a person is. You cannot teach them to be pure and genuine of heart. That is something that comes from within.

Mama, you had to grow up fast. But you did it with grace and dignity. You were never selfish. You never let us feel like we went with out even when we were at our poorest. You never left. You never succumbed to the temptations that could have facilitated in blurring the pain.

Mama, you left everything you knew in order to give me and brother a chance at life. You left a piece of yourself as well as a newly furnished apartment in Mazatlan, Mexico because you knew materialistic belongings paled in comparision to a chance at living a life full of opportunity.

Mama, I can't even begin to tell you how much I admire you for how brave of a thing that was for you to do.

Mama, I want you to know that you are the best mother I could ever have asked for and that I wouldn't change a thing about you.

Mama, someday I will be something grand, someone to admire, and I want you to know that I could have never done it with out you.

Mama, I love you.

Love your daughter.

Love Day.

Saturday morning wrapped in a toasty comforter I blinked until my visually impaired eyes could see as clearly as possible. I reached over to the right side of the bed to feel for the boy but his spot was deserted. I could have easily just lifted myself high up enough to see if he was there. But I like to touch him and feel his warm skin and grin as he lets out a sleepy moan. I can't remember the last time we both woke up together and held eachother before fixing ourselves breakfast. That morning he had to run off to tutor.

I woke up to do my normal, uneventful routine. While I wait for my stomach to finally nudge my brain and let it know I am hungry, I hop on the computer and things go a little like this:

Check school email.
Check personal email.
Check bank accounts.
Check Facebook.
Check Blogger.
Check Perezhilton.

As I sat there I felt a sudden urge to look behind me and saw the day was absolutely gorgeous. The sun lit the living room in beautiful hues of yellow and the oak trees and greenery seemed to be especially more vibrant that morning. Or maybe I had just finally had enough time to notice. I couldn't take it. I felt like I was doing myself a grand injustice starring off into cyber space instead of relishing the outside world.

I opened the porch door and the air was crisp and crunchy. The boys immediately came running like cute little "puppies." They meowed in excitement and arched their spines in contentment as if they were trying to make their backs meet the gentle touch of my hand as soon as possible. I sat on the cement floor and they head butted eachother in competition, rolled over and showed me their bellies, and  their purrs roared even louder as I designated each one of my hands to the scruffy napes of their necks and scratched away. Why do cats and dogs turn to silly puddy as soon as you do that? I sat there and appreciated nature in all its beauty and small creatures alike. I petted the boys some more then decided I was going on a nature adventure equipped with my Canon and my newfound appreciation for beauiful sunny days.

Look at the boys! Here they come! Trot trot trot...

Why hello Sir Scraggles! Fancy seeing you around here...

Always a pleasure Oliver...

Breakfast time...

Oh and look at the fat creature perched on the beam thinking he can

join in on the kitty kibbly consumption. I don't think so fatso! I scared him away...

I ran to my room and threw on the most decent clothes available. Then my brain finally stopped me in my tracks and told me it was time for that little thing you all call breakfast. Ah,  yes! Breakfast that would be a suitable thing to do since I am going on an adventure. Just seconds after I had fixed myself an avocado omlette the boy calls! Why is the boy calling??? He should be tutoring. So I answer and he's got this super excited tone and he's ramblin' like this...

       I got to school today and I asked my friend if he knew of anything we could do for our anniversary and he said that theres this forest thats really nice and theres this really good place to eat where they have really good Puerto Rican food in San Rafael. I think its a cool idea. I am going to cancel on the student I was supposed to tutor today and reset it for tomorrow. I hope she doesn't get upset. But I can run home and we can get going as soon as I get there. Does that sound like fun to you?

The boy had read my mind and somehow fate managed to rascal its way in and zap us with the nature loving bug.  It was strange yet beautiful how the day worked that way.

This is how November 7th, 2009 went:

 Time for a photo shoot while the boy gets ready doy!...

The Golden Gate Bridge, I still don't get the big whoop about this bridge.

Its a rickety old thing that isn't even gold but a sad rusted color.

 You just can't enjoy the California experience the same unless

you get caught in some traffic...

What is a girl to do stuck in such a predicament?! Well take

"artsy" pictures but of course!

We've arrived! Doesn't this photo look like a still scene shot from a

creepy movie???

The boy came on a mission to see big trees and that he did!

Me

King of the Forest?

Look I can pose too.

And look, I have a trail named after me. Well, sort of. (Ferni)

Thats one big ass dead tree!

and me!

Such a little human next to a mammoth tree.

Reunited with his kind.

Re Re.

Then we went to Sol Food Restaurant where they had some mighty delicious food and the ambiance was completely Latin. What does that mean? It was Loud and LOVELY.

 So there you have it folks. The boy gets to live for another year!