You're not losing an old year...

...you're gaining a new one!!

M'kay, last chance to post before 2008 is over. Well, not really last chance, but I plan to take a nap or something, so for me? Yeah, last chance.

Let's review this year. 2008. An eventful year, I suppose. Not any more eventful that others, on average, but it had its moments.

I mean, I'm sure it had them, I just can't remember them. That's what blogs are for. I can simply look back, read over old posts and go "Oh, yeah! Wait, that was this year? Good god! Time doesn't fly at all, now does it, until you're a 60 year-old bachelorette, living alone in a crooked little house with a crooked cat and mouse, eating artichokes all day and crying yourself to sleep each night. And raising crickets."

This year... hm, I learned how to do the helium-inhaling sqeaky-voice trick with my friends. 

And this year my neighbors started their "band", which we have to suffer through A LOT. The drummer randomly whacking his drums, the guitarist plucking random things (why the ffff! did they think it was a good idea to buy expensive instruments when they have NO IDEA how to play them and don't appear to be  taking any lessons??? Gawd!).

Oh, of course! This year I decided what I want to study in university.

Was it this year that I started listening to Power Metal? I'm not sure. I think so. Either way, I branched out from a rut of japanese music that I'd fallen into (gracias, Nancy!)

I also acquired something very special, a Domo-kun hoodie that I've pretty much been living in lately. To tell you the truth, I sometimes don't wear a shirt under it anymore. I mean, what's the point? I never take off the hoodie, so why dirty a T-shirt that nobody's going to see? it's a waste, in my opinion. Wearing out clothes for no reason... but I digress.

2008 was a much better year than 2007. Sure, I still have miserable teachers. Much and many more miserable teachers... and just when I was learning to appreciate the old ones. Except for one of them who I never took a liking to and will never thank for anything, who by the way is on her sabbatical year HOW UNFAIR IS THAT but anyway! I hope this is all character building. Otherwise, I may have to punch someone.

But what really matters is, I didn't have to spend countless hours being bored out of my mind at preparation courses with a bunch of dolts to get into high school (unlike last year foosh!). I instead spent all that time... wait, what was I doing all year? All I see is posts complaining about all the homework I had (um, have) to do! Goodness gracious me!

Again, I digress. I beg my pardon, and politely request yours (I don't think it's dignified to beg anyone but yourself). Moving on!

I learned some stuff, academics aside. Like how to ride a unicorn, raise crickets and smoke pot. No, I'm kidding. It wasn't a unicorn, it was a magical hippo.

And crickets can get... savage. Especially when you accidentally feed them your pot. Lesson learned, though: bug spray is your friend (not! evil chemical alert!).

Joking aside, though, I'm pretty sure I did learn something; I just can't think what right now. It must be the olives I just stuffed my face with. Olives... and surimi dip (which was 87% mayonnaise) with corn chips. I hear those things can clog up your brain when you try to thinks. It's this thing they do to your brain cells; they call it "bad excuses and confusing humor for stupidity".

Good nut, I don't want the world to clap eyes on this crappy entry, but I have no time or strength to type up a new one. "No strength"? Indeed, I'm writing this on a hard keyboard and my fingers are killing me. Poor little buggers. They deserve a break, so I'll end this here and now:

I hope 2008 was worth your while, and nuts to you if you let 2009 suck. Own it! Work it! Wear the dress, don't let the dress wear you!

What?

My Christmas list

It's that lovely, lovely greedy time of year again! Okay, people, listen up!

For me:

1. Somebody rent the DVD of An Inconvenient Truth? Sisterssss? (rent, rent, rent. Don't want it for keeps.)
2. The clone trooper helmet from Star Wars... I feel guilty for wanting it but I'll feel miserable if (when...) I don't get it. Boo.
3. A Toyota Prius or, if not, then a Honda Civic Hybrid. (Not really for myself, but for my family. I'll get my own when it's time, mwahaha.)
4. Buy non-Kleenex brand tissues for the house. Including those little portable packets. Kimberly-Clark is evil on the trees.
5. Sneakers.
6. A tomato plant.
7. A low-flow showerhead. Or two. Or three.

Also,

1. A personal favor: if you're reading this and you use body wash to shower, when your current bottle runs out please consider buying bar soap before switching back to body wash. It's way cheaper, lasts longer, has less packaging and thus creates less trash and comes in loads of yummy scents. And it's just as sanitary.
   
2. Use rechargeable batteries. They're totally convenient, environmental stuff aside, because you never have to make an emergency run for more batteries. You've always got some lying around, ready to serve.

Sorry, am I coming across as a snobbish planet-freak? I don't mean to.

How many mice does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

Just two, but they have to be really, really tiny.

Hahaha.

Something that at first seemed interesting and later on started to bug me is how in English we say "I" so much. It makes me feel all egocentric. For example:

I ate porridge this morning, but I made too much. I started out with too many oats, but I didn't notice and ended up adding way too much milk. So now I'm really full, which is actually a good thing since I'm full of porridge and not of, say, chocolate.

That last paragraph is 50 words, and "I" is written 6 times. That's 12%!


On another note, I found out how to clean my Mighty Mouse's scroll wheel (I love that name. Mighty Mouse. Teehee!). It's so annoying, because the scroll wheel is so cool ('cuz it goes in all directions), and so frustrating because it gets all clogged up with gross stuff and stops scrolling in one or another direction. Up until yesterday, I could only scroll down. Gahhh.

I adapted this from a method I saw posted on a forum somewhere...

1. With a cotton swab and rubbing alcohol, clean the scroll wheel.
2. Lightly wet a piece of paper with alcohol.
3. Run the scroll wheel up and down, sideways, and in circles on the paper until it 'feels' clean. I noticed that when it was ready, mine made a weird sort of whizzing/fast clicking sound.
4. Rub it the same way on a dry piece of paper.

Presto! Clean, working scroll wheel.

I also read somewhere that a few people had temporarily fixed the problem by pressing down hard on the wheel. I don't think that's a great idea, since my guess is that what you're actually doing there is getting the dirt & gross stuff out of the way by smooshing it down (and thus making it harder to remove later on).

Holidays

Holidays, whee! I haven't done much so far, nor do I plan to...

Hm, good thing that I have to keep a journal of my holiday activities for Italian class (which I really don't like–Italian ain't fun) or I would've forgotten what I've done so far. Let's see.

I started off the holidays making cookies, as I recall. First I made some yummy gingerbread men on Thursday, and the next day I made these little peanut butter thumbprints filled with apple-cinnamon jam, that I didn't like as much (obviously that didn't stop me from stuffing my face with them).

Then on Sunday I watched a Mexican movie which, as much as it pains me to admit, was exceptionally bad. It's supposed to be a kids' movie but dude, I'd never let MY kids watch it.

On Monday I lazed around all day and didn't do much, just hung around.

On Tuesday–yesterday– I got off my butt and went shopping with my sister & dad, purchasing many wonderful things (my personal highlight being a great Rhapsody CD) and ate out. I shoveled down about a kilo of pasta with shrimp. Oh god. It was totally worth my world jolting a bit when I finally stood up.

Aaaand today I tried to eat healthily because of yesterday's pasta massacre, and I had succeeded until about an hour ago the bran flakes told me to eat Mac&Cheese. Evil bran flakes. I blame them and them alone.

I've been playing FreeRice a lot lately because I just discovered that they now have a variety of subjects for quizzes. I've become hooked on the "famous paintings" section and now I can identify Franz Marc and Monet. I'm pretty much there with Vermeer, Tolouse-Lautrec and J.M.W. Turner. I can also tell when stuff is by Van Gogh or Klimt, but everybody can do those and that's not something I learned from FreeRice, so I'm not counting those. What I did discover is that Degas really liked ballerinas. Hmmmmm.

<3 My little babies

My little babies were born today!!


Well, actually one of them was born yesterday. The other one emerged overnight. Ain't they just sooo CUTE!?

I'm not exactly sure what these are, because they came from a packet of mixed seeds. But they'll have flowers sometime, and I'll make sure to blog about their first words and steps, and later on about how they're doing in kindergarten.

*Side note: God. If I keep this blog and have kids or something ("or something"? what's "something"?) I hope I don't turn into a mommy blogger. Slap me if I do, please.*

So anyway, about a week ago I was reading about climate change and so on, and came across an article that said having plants in your bedroom or office makes the air in it a lot better (duh), and it made me think, "Hm, I need more plants in my room! I'll buy some this week." Then I realized that this was an unpractical idea, mainly because I'm broke. And then I remembered we have about a zillion packets of seeds in the kitchen.

I planted some chrysanthemum, moss rose, and the mixed bundles of joy above. Whee.

If I ever have amnesia

If you aren't me, don't read this, you'll get bored. BUT! If I ever have amnesia, make me read this. I would just save it as a draft, but I'm guessing I wouldn't know my password if I did have amnesia and therefore wouldn't be able to look at it.

Hello there, memory-deficient self of the future! Let me fill you in: you're reading about yourself. You're sixteen, and currently you hate a guy named Banana Jerome; yesterday you went to a Scout meeting with your friends and have three bruises: one on your left knee, one on your left bicep and the last one just below you lip, which is incredibly fortunate because it's huge and red but just looks like a shadow. In fact, you were looking in the mirror a good five minutes this morning, putting on sunblock as you tend to do, before you saw it. And then you went HRRRRNNN?? WHAT DAT??

Let's see... for the sake of accuracy (just in case! Don't want to create any false memories) I'll put in some serious stuff. Let's see...

Your closest friends are Eri, Elia, Mariel, Abigail, Wiskas, Daniela and Nancy. You've known Eri and Nancy since secondary school. You were all in the same class last year, except Nancy.

Your dog is Maxie. She's been with your family since you were in grade two, and she got named that because the day we got her, your teacher read your class a story about a cat and a horse that was really boring. You didn't pay attention (very unusual, back then). All you remembered was that one of the animals was called Maxie, and the name fit. It's embarrassing to admit this, even more so on your blog (the things I do for your well being!) but sometimes you think about her getting old and dying and you kind of cry a bit.

Your sisters are Irene and Isabel. Isabel is Izzy and older than Irene, who is Reenie. They both seem to like you, but can't stand each other very long. Reen starts snapping at Izzy, who will then take it too seriously and get all sentimental. They both had issues at some point and that affected you a lot. That's why you don't like it when people say they aren't happy with their body and get scared if any thought like that crosses your mind at all.

Your parents are Margaret and Jorge. Once you asked Mom why she always says "Jorge" and not "George", and she said it was because he doesn't like it. Mom made her own wedding dress. She trained you to give back massages, as far as you can tell, for the sole reason of the benefits of receiving them. Dad likes working with wood, and whenever he uses the big saw-table-thing in his workshop you always freak out a little bit and worry that he'll hack off a finger. Once Dad told you that he's never, ever taken off his wedding ring and that made you feel happy and fuzzy inside.

Your family calls you Lalli because your second name is Citlalli. You just figured that out, like, four or five years ago. You used to hate cats, but now you're starting to understand them a bit more. They still hate you, though. Once a kitten peed on your only black T-shirt, and ever since then you've always made sure to own several black T-shirts. You like to read but don't seem to have much time for it anymore. Ditto watching anime.

You always have a lot of trouble making new friends when you go to a new school, and usually don't like a lot of people at first if you meet them all at once. You blush really easily. You slump. You've lost a few cell phones, but never iPods. You hate smokers.

Your favorite toy is Ricky, a stuffed raccoon. He's fat and flat, and when you first saw him you threw him repeatedly against a wall because you didn't like the way he looked. Then you felt guilty and made a place for him in your bed, and somehow he became your favorite. You collected stuffed (toy!) raccoons for a long time after that. He's sitting on your bed right now.

You've never been in any near-death situation, unless you count that time when you still lived in Canada and you fell down the stairs because you tried to push an upside-down footstool with Poly in it down the stairs, except it got caught on the carpet. It didn't hurt, as far as I remember. You were puzzled when you reached the bottom and looked up to see Mom crying. You've never broken any bones, either. Only twisted an ankle, when you were six or seven.

You haven't had rhubarb pie or cream soda for years, and they hold a special place in your stomach's heart, along with sauerkraut, tofu wieners and Hamburger Helper. Also those fudgesicles Mom used to make.

You like learning French but hate Italian. It's ugly. You love the way Portuguese sounds, but wouldn't like to learn it. You want to go to Switzerland, especially the Alps. Your favorite Disney princess is Aurora, even though all she ever did was dance with squirrels and sleep, and never so much as lifted a finger to contribute to the happy ending. Your favorite Disney movie, though, is the Beauty and the Beast; you hate the prince's transformation scene because he looked loads better as a big furry lump of love. You hate how every Disney female has a waist as thick as her arms. Cinderella looked about twenty times better with her hair down.

Okay, I can't think of anything else to write (I mean, I can, but nothing I feel like writing).

Whoo, thee posts in one day!

Detestando mucho en espánish

Detesto que la gente se ría en el cine cuando no es una película cómica (o tan mala que da risa).

Detesto que la gente se crea bien acá y profunda pero no lo sean (no digo que no haya gente que no sea precisamente eso –bien acá y profunda–, sin embargo los que quieren pero nomás no... gahhh, ganas de estrangularlos para que despierten).

Detesto que la señora de Etimologías (decirle "maestra" insinuaría que enseña) nos sermonee acerca de la tolerancia y el respeto, pero que cuando se ponga a decirnos sus estupideces acerca de cómo educar a los niños (no deben de ver las noticias, según ella) y que aunque seamos ateos, musulmanes o de X secta debemos tener una biblia y saber buscar un versículo (no sé qué sea eso ni para qué sirva, y para ser franca, si me importara ya lo hubiera buscado en Google) y no nos escuche cuando queramos dar, por más respetuosamente que sea, una opinión diferente a la suya; es más, nos dice que no sabemos escuchar a los demás y que no tenemos derecho a opinar porque somos muy jóvenes (en serio!).

Detesto que la gente compre discos y películas piratas, y más cuando enseguida se quejan de la situación del país.

Detesto cuando la gente pone cara de asco cuando les dices que te gustal tal género musical, grupo o músico. La música mala no existe, bola de intolerantes.

Detesto que la gente tome por hecho cualquier cosa basándose únicamente en tu apariencia física o tu manera de vestir.

Detesto que la gente haga, diga o muestre cualquier cosa y luego te voltee a ver para ver si estás viéndolos (¡viva la redundancia redundante!).

Detesto que la gente describa a toda y cualquier persona oriental como "chinito" o "chinita".

Detesto que las madres le den a sus bebés y niños pequeñísimos dulces y refrescos como si fueran pan y agua.

Detesto que la gente se queje del ambiente y el estado en el que están las ciudades al tiempo que camina junto a la banqueta, escupe en la calle y tira su basura junto al bote.

Ah, también detesto que la gente se estacione en la banqueta y en las orillitas de las calles. Un buen ejercicio mental es que la próxima vez que estés a punto de escupir una larga cadena de groserías hacia el gobierno por la iiiinche callecita angosta donde no pueden pasar ni las moscas, te imagines a esa misma calle sin las hileras de autos de cada lado (es sorprendente imaginarte a la ciudad con dos carriles más en cada avenida)

Detesto que la gente compre todo en Wal-Mart cuando al lado están los supermercados mexicanos.

Detesto que las señoras adineradas (de esas que mandan a sus hijos a colegios que llevan nombres de extranjeros a quienes ellas nunca se tomaron la molesta de Googlear para ver quiénes fueron y qué hicieron) se compren SUVs, para que siempre que manejen vayan solas, o a veces con un chamaco en la parte de atrás. ¿Tienen idea de lo que emiten sus pinches carros? ¿Han oído hablar de los óxidos de nitrógeno? ¿Han escuhado alguna vez de los autos Smart?

Detesto que a la gente se le "caiga" la basura y se haga como que no la ve o se queda con cara de "Oops! Bueno, ya qué", pero a la hora de que la levantas y se las devuelves te dicen "Oh, mil gracias, muy amable" al tiempo que te sonríen con el voltaje de mil soles.



Y por último, me da muchísima risa cuando alguna persona le pregunta a otra,

"Oye, ¿conoces a Fulano de tal lugar?"
"¿Cómo es?"
"Chaparro, moreno y gordo"
"Ah, sí, creo que he visto a uno así"

Porque... pues yo he visto a muchísimos así. Muchisísimos.

December, three years old

Ah, December. Time to make Christmas cards for all the classes with stupid teachers who like to waste our time (coughGreco-LatinEtymologycough). Homework is homework, though, so I spent about two hours today building a pile of paper snippets on my floor, making paper snowflakes.

My mom came in about an hour later and pointedly and daintily lifted her feet over all the paper snippets, notebooks, papers and miscellaneous stuff I have lying around, only to stumble over R2-D2, who was standing at his usual post (at the foot of my bed, wearing his green necktie).

On the subject of R2, my Dad seems to think that when (um, if!) I move out within the next few years I won't be taking all my Star Wars stuff, or at least not R2. To which all I can say is: WHAT?? Why on earth wouldn't I take him?? It's R2-D2, for god's sake! If it's a matter of space or something, well, I can sleep in a chair. Anyway, he's not that big. Takes up about 30 square cm on the floor, although in reality he belongs on a pedestal.

Lookin' shmexy!

Oh, yeah! My blog turned three yesterday! Wow. I created it on whim, and I'm really glad I did. I mean, I read through old stuff now and then, and everything just comes back really clearly. Little memories that would've drifted into oblivion otherwise.

Slower than a friggin' slug

Seriously, I was thinking about blogging and then thought "Nah, I did that, like, two days ago", except then I checked and it's actually been a WHOLE WEEK.

So Christmas is edging ever closer, except it's still not close enough for me to start thinking festive thoughts. Seriously, it's still (just barely) November! Calm down, everybody.

What I'm looking forward to even more than Christmas itself at this point is winter holidays. Ah, what wouldn't I give to have it moved up a week... oh, well. Still two weeks to go, not much I can do about it. I'll make a list of objectives for the holidays, though. Just a few short-term goals:

- Do all my Biology lab practice reports so I don't have to suffer through them later :)
- Go to the movies or something. The last time I went out was... oh god. When was it??
- Sleep 9+ hours each day
- Eat a big oatmeal breakfast each morning so I don't fill up on chocolate or something afterward
- See if I can find a Rhapsody of Fire CD (although now I think about it there's no way I'll be able to buy it. I have absolutely no money. About minus a hundred MXN or so, I'd guess)
- Sew some fabric shopping bags
- Buy (er, get someone to give me) and read certain books

I should probably stop there, because those holidays always seem to spontaneously combust when I'm about three days into them. Which sucks.

...

Time! Hear me!! Speed up!!! (and then slow down a lot on the 11th of December. Oh, and give me time to do my homework before that as well. Teachers tend to lay on holiday & pre-holiday homework WAY too thickly – the ones that spend their entire holidays sitting alone in their dark rooms eating mushrooms or whatever do, anyway)

Also, Time, give me the strength to get up early tomorrow. Pleeeeease?

Shoes (my, how original)

This morning we were all having breakfast together (a rare family moment: my sisters, my cousin and my mom... oh, wait, my dad wasn't there. Well, close enough to a rare family moment) and my mom said she wanted me to get some "elegant shoes".
And I was all, "I still have those you got me for the wedding, remember? They still fit" (BTW, those are two years old now. Huh.)

Except my mom said that those are white so they wouldn't go with a lot of dresses or something. Which is kind of weird, 'cause I though white was supposed to be one of those magical colors that goes with everything? And then I remembered, oh, no, those shoes are bone coloured. Which apparently isn't the same thing.

I don't know what's gotten into her lately... a few months ago she made me buy some "presentable shoes" because all I had was two pairs of Converse and the aforementioned not-white pair. I pointed out that one of my pairs of Converse is fancy, but she said they didn't count. So I went out and got some shoes.

And on Sunday I was out with my dad and we looked at fancy shoes, and it turns out he knows a LOT about shoes. He told me stuff about the accents on them, and the material they were made out of and styles and stuff like that. Which kind of creeped me out but at the same time was very cool, because my dad isn't the sort of man you'd look at and think "Hmm, fashion diva!". Not that he doesn't dress well or anything, it's just, you know. Weird.

Actually, I keep on finding out stuff about my dad that I never knew before. Like, he can make avocado cheesecake. How awesome is that?

Anyway, we didn't end up buying an shoes, so my collection remains as following, badly photographed with the assistance only of a friendly mirror:

Normal shoes

Fancy normal shoes

Presentable shoes

Unnecessary shoes

Tuti

For several months, there's been a cute doggy living in the area around school, generally in the biggish empty lot where there's an electric tower thing, a lot of grass, and sometimes a drunk. Every now and then the dog would go into my school, where he was taught a few tricks- well, just to sit for food. But he was really good at it. Everybody really likes him, and when it started getting cold someone put a pink T-shirt on him. It fell off or something about a week after, but that's not the point. He hasn't gone into school for a while, though.

I called him Tuti, and he has a friend called Chuchi, who is the same color as Tutti but a bit bigger and ever so slightly poofier.

Today I was walking through the empty lot on my way to the bus stop, and saw his friend Chuchi lying on the grass. I went over to say hello and saw that Tutti was napping next to Chuchi... except he looked kind of wrong, not chasing away the flies crawling on his muzzle, and he didn't seem to be breathing...

I stayed with him a little while, and when I turned to leave Chuchi looked up at me all sad.

My friends were waiting fro me at the bus stop, and as I walked towards them they were talking and laughing, and they all looked so happy... I seriously didn't want to, but I started crying.

This video is from August. He'd found a peach from one of the trees in school and we were playing with it. Please ignore the embarrassing narration provided by myself.

Free time!

Tomorrow is going to be an awesome day, thanks to the wonderful coincidence that two of my teachers are skipping (going to conferences or something), so I only have classes from 9:30 'till 12:00.

I mean, I have a Health class at 7:00, but the teacher will rarely show up on time, and lately she hasn't shown up at all when we have early classes. Plus it's not like I'll miss out on something. I have friends with different teachers who know, like, the names of all the bones in the human body, whereas our teacher (nicknamed "Auntie Wigs" because of her hairstyle) is telling us useless anecdotes about marriage.

Maybe I'll make cookies in my free time!

My Health Ed teacher's hair is sort of like this, except it completely straight and black, and isn't shiny- and soft-looking. And it looks like a cheap wig.

Stupid stupid stupid.

I like History class, but I hate History homework.

And I love "Holy Thunderforce" (!So we'll fight against the wind for the glory of our king, to defeat the evil eeeeeeenemies!)

Seriously. I'll pay you all my money (er, $40 MXN- enough for 80 pieces of chewing gum...) if you tell me why Mexico started out so shakily when it became an independent country, what with the suckish economy, bad administration, dead workforce, social divisions, and the US clawing at Texas and California every chance they got (I've always wondered what they teach students in America about the adquisition of Texas. Probably that the texans came whining to them for help, with no mention of the bit where the then-mexican president was tricked into signing a document where he gave away about half his country, although popular history wrongly says that he sold it and we just never got paid).

Anyway.

I haven't done anything for about two hours, I guess I'd better get to it.

Dead! Ees dead!

On Thursday it was the Día de Muertos festival thing at my school. My class set up a Greek-themed ofrenda, all part of a huge bribe on my Etymology teacher (but mostly her husband, the Math teacher, who I don't hate anymore).

These are Dionysus, Afrodite and Hades. Dionysus is the god of wine and orgies (erm, one leads to the other, I guess, with those rascally ancient greeks!). I suggested that instead of dressing that guy up, we just set up the ofrenda and then get drunk on wine and have an orgy while keeping inside the alloted space, but nobody listened to me. Spoilsports. ... :'(

Oh, yeah, somebody set up an ofrenda for Kurt Cobain. See that? It's made out of beans and rice.

I spent all day selling water and pop at hilariously high prices to thirsty people who bought them anyway. I guess the sort of people who buy pop aren't the same people that would bother walking a mere few metres outside to buy about three times as much for the same price. The money all went to the Europe group (that's what it's called, 'kay? It's the group of people who are taking extra language courses, attending workshops and learning to travel in a group so we can go to Europe in the summer). Eurodisney, here we come.

Anyhoodle, I keep on meaning to write but I seriously am swamped in homework, unlike some of my lucky friends who have lazy teachers and never have to do so much as lift a finger to get great marks.

Mmmh, I wish I were still in pre-school

I hate my Chemistry teacher. And I resent my Literature teacher.

And I still want to stab my Math teacher with a fork, but a bit less now.

But more than that, I want to curl up in bed wearing the purple sweater with the furry bear on the front that I had when I was four or so, next to Ricky the Raccoon and listen to the recording of my mom reading "Mischievous Meg" by Astrid Lindgren. Especially the chapter where she wants to fly with an umbrella but instead jumps off the roof and has a concussion.

Now THAT is way better than pretty much anything else in the whole world.

Oh god. I just felt a very stong surge of nostalgia for my old room in Canada (my sisters had to share, but I had my own! Hahahahahaha!). And Polie, my polar bear... hm, he must be somewhere around here.

Okay, I'm going to go look for Polie. Over & out.

EDIT: Look! I found Polie!

I'm not the only one, though

...who hasn't been posting. I'm sorry I've had exams.

I hate exams. Deeply. Which is why I'm sorry I had them. Yes, that's right. The lack of a comma in the previous paragraph WAS NO TYPO, people!

But! Zee eexams arr no more, and I'm going to the TNT (anime convention thingamajig) tomorrow. And it's the last day, so everything will be ubercheap (or at least cheaper than usual).

Oh, yeah, it was my birthday! ...er, 12 days ago. Which must show you how busy I was, not studying and all, that I didn't even have time to write a self-congratulatory post like I'd normally do.

I got a lot of chocolate, which I oddly didn't feel like eating (until it was all gone, that is) so I gave most of it to my metalhead sister and her metalhead friends. Now I keep looking at the (lovely) box and thinking of hanging it up on my wall so I can remember them every day... those chocolates I never ate. The box itself is really pretty, it has a cool picture of Champs Elysées on it in goldish stuff.

Above: metalhead sister who ate my chocolate (because I'm too lazy to take a photo of the chocolate box... oh, wait, I found one on the 'net, from lindt.com of the innards)

I only got a few of those, but DAMN WERE THEY GOOD!

The plan is simpe:

Okay, probably one of the last things in the world I should be doing right now is blogging, somewhere along with playing Dutch Blitz, doing drugs, and watching Monty Python. What I SHOULD be doing is getting dressed, because once again I'm blogging in my bathrobe (but I'd never told you that before. Now you know).

Ugh, I think I wasted away my Saturday sitting around in pajamas and watching TV. Well, I also did some homework, but that's not really what you'd call recreational. I mean, who cares about ancient Greek society? They're all dead!


***that was written on Sunday morning, and I didn't finish it or post it. Anyway, moving on...***


One of my bestest friends had been listening obsessively to the radio for the last week, because they were giving away passes for a meet & greet with Simple Plan. It would be an understatement to say that she loves, adores and venerates Simple Plan.

And this morning she won a pass! So while the rest of us were in Math, banging our brains very quietly against the insides of our heads, she was at home showering and getting batteries for her camera.

I don't like Simple Plan that much myself (they're okay, but I wouldn't toss myself in front of a bus for them), but it's totally awesome that she got to meet them. A text message informs me that it was awesome, she touched and hugged them. And got a guitar pick from her favorite member (forgot who that was. I think his name is Dave? David? Google tells me it's David).

Gluglugluglug

I already vacuumed my room, moved the furniture around (and discovered a family of dead bugs under the wardrobe, ew), ate a ton of cookies and had about three glasses of milk, looked through all the photos and videos I took at school on Friday, scratched the dog, watched TV, went for a walk... and I don't think I can put it off any longer.

Darn you to heck, homework! Just a few hours of concentration and it'll be over. Okay. Here goes.

**does homework**

A few hours later! Phew, time for a break.

I just drank an extra liter of milk and now I look like I'm pregnant.


This is all in an attempt to grow a bit taller. Actually, I guess I should say it's an attempt to be a bit less short (and if it doesn't work I'm personally going to hunt somebody down and punch them. Not the cows, 'cuz we're stealing their milk and all, but maybe the owner of the milk company).

65 pesotes...

Guess who I met on Sunday and took home?

It's somebody tiny and furry and brown. And CUTE!


I still can't get it through my mind that somebody would sell these waaaay over here... I will treasure this little guy until he falls apart from all the love he'll receive (meant in the cleanest way possible).

I would like to make a complaint about the complaining about the complaints being made...

Aaaargh, I'm in a freaking bad mood. Must break something.

Sometimes I really, really hate school. These are my classes, ordered from very much hated to not hated.

1. Math- old patronizing man with a mustache. Feel like stabbing something when I see him. Not helped by his subject.

2. Orientation- the teacher thinks I'm an antisocial nut and tries to get me to work in a team and talk to her. One hour a week is way too much.

3. Chemistry- the dude doesn't know much about his subject. Seriously. Will often talk about politics, etc. so he won't seem too incompetent.

4. Literature- is boring. Really boring. Also the teacher has a weird beard that looks like its growing out of his mouth and down his chin.

5. Etymologies- treats us like six-year-olds.

6. Biology- very hard to stay awake.

7. Health- if you snag a seat in the first two rows, it's an okay class. Otherwise you won't hear a thing. And she won't freaking talk louder, no matter how much we ask her to.

8. Phys Ed- I don't mind it that much, because we only have to run/march around, and not play sports. However, I hate wearing shorts.

9. Ethics- mutual dislike between the teacher and I, but she teaches okay and the subject can be interesting.

10. History- actually, I like History. The teacher's good, too.

11. French- I like the subject, I like my teacher, I like the way she teaches. I like learning languages. Whee. However, I only have two hours a week. Boo.

So! Tell me about your teachers, specifically the ones you hate.

Puru puru

I don't feel like connecting thoughts much today, because I'm tired. On a weekend. This is abominable, it should not be!!

Today I went with my friends to see a play for school, and after that we walked around... we went to a museum, 'cause two of my friends had to for some class or other... then we were hungry.

We went to a supermarket and bought crackers, tuna and salsa. Oh, and iced tea. And then we ate them all outside the supermarket while people walked by at us and gave us the evil eye, mainly because the bottle the tea came in made it look a lot like whisky (accentuated by the fact that we were laughing like hyenas in pants). In fact, when I went back in to the store to get more crackers, my friends had to fend off and old drunk guy who wanted to steal our tea.

(crapcam photo)

How is it that I can listen to a song over 70 times in a day? My iTunes play count thingy must be faulty, teehee.

Mmmm, cheddar cheese crackers! YUM!!

I currently have a tuft of hair on the right side of my head that insists on sticking up, because it's shorter than the rest (I cut off a bit and made a guy think I'd snipped it from the bit that he's letting grow long... TOTALLY worth the puffy head it resulted in)

Europe? School? Boring post, actually.

At school there's a trip to Europe every two years; this year, I might go (supposing I don't eff up and get myself kicked out of the program). Well, not quite this year... this school year. It's actually in 2009. Anyway.

This means I'll have to quit Museography & Restoration. It' a pity, 'cause it's fun... but I can take it next year. Either way, I'd at least have shorter days. I was getting in at seven and leaving at five every day: ten hours (I got pretty used to it. To think I once believed nine was inhuman...).

And now I won't spend my summer holidays at a museum dusting off old pottery for 120 hours. I'll instead spend a month getting dragged all around Paris and Belgium, and Switzerland and Italy... oh, and Luxembourg, was it? And a little place in Germany, right on the border... and somewhere else, but I forgot where. Some little country that, as my mom puts it, was left over when the rest of Europe was busy forming bigger countries. Oh, and Euro Disney! Whee!

I'd better shut up now. I've got homework, and I must look like a prat.

OH MY GOD!!!

I was washing my hands in the bathroom after scratching Maxie The Dog, and ... Teddy The Bear was on my shoulder and... he... Teddy...

Teddy fell in the toilet!! DX

I mean, it was clean and all, but... still. Poor Teddy.

So I washed him, and now he's sitting on a chair on the porch, sunbathing. I just need to remember to turn him over so he won't get bleached on one side.

Closed doors, bald dogs

So many things to write about! So much time that I spend doing other things instead! Ah, the springtime, when the grassy bit outside the library is all wet so you have to find a different place to lounge!

I started writing a really long post the other day (er, last week) but never finished it. Looking back, I can only think this is good thing, 'cause the post was sorta suckish. Sleep deprivation, people! Horrible stuff.

Listening to Green Day for the first time in a while (old GD, not their new icky stuff)...

Oh! I was going to tell you abut when our Etymology teacher locked us in our classroom by accident.

See, we're all sitting down nice and pretty-like, reviewing our homework ("And a lot of people have tried to imitate Madonna, but she's unique! Nobody can do it!" says the teacher). After a few minutes, there's a knock at the door and the pretty girl that thinks that she can smile at teachers and get good grades (she's not stupid, but I guess she's conditioned herself never to think unless she ABSOLUTELY has to, i.e., once or twice a year) asks if she can come in. The teacher tried to open the door, but couldn't. After abut ten minutes and a lot of students trying to pry the door open with metal rulers, brute force, etc., the teacher was all,

"Are you still there?"

Silence.

"Helloooooooo? Shh! You're not letting me hear!" But it's pretty much impossible not to laugh in that situation, unless you really have to pee or something.

"Hello?"

"Hello, who is this? Can you please get a janitor? We're locked in."

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

So anyway, it turns out all you had to do was pull a little knob on the door, but nobody figured it out until the janitor pried the door open and demonstrated.

Oh, and today my friend's cousin brought her xoloitzcuintle, the most adorable little baby puppy ever! My friend has one too... a family matter, I guess :P


Since she's bald, she's like a little warm lump of doggy. And I got to snuggle her and feed her apple! And she was so grateful she snogged me. And I let her, 'cause you know, it's rude to jerk your face away at the last moment and all.

Guess what I'm (not) doing!

I must say, I do hate homework.

And getting up early.

And cockroaches, and the coffee they sell at school (tastes like dirt, ugh), and when the battery runs out in your watch, or when the printer runs out of ink, and that cheap nail polish that never dries properly and remains forever gooey, and MOSQUITOES!, and when teachers give you cheap photocopies or make you use a heavy book, and when my back and my eyes hurt from using the computer way too long, and the way I feel after eating too much ice cream.

But I like beetles, and the vanilla cappuccino from the stand outside school (comes with a cookie!), or when my watch isn't too tight or too loose, or when the printer is feeling nice and doesn't make that weird white line on the side of the page, and my mom's clear nail polish-stuff that dries really fast, and swatting mosquitoes, or when teachers give you warm photocopies that are already stapled, you don't have to buy a book for any given class, and when I used to have my big comfy chair which my mom stole, and I LOVE to eat ice cream.

So it's all balanced out, I guess. I am a Libra, after all. Other people get to be fish and crabs and stuff, but I'm always a boring set of scales. That weighs stuff. Like raw meat. Ew.

Oh, and I love this song, too. The live version is awesome, 'cause you see Jemaine (guy on couch) switch between the narrator, Albi and the kid. And a the end he and Bret (guy in the box) talk a bit about racism in New Zealand XD



So I've been singing that in my head for about a week and a half...

Weekend post! whee!

Right now I'm renewing my scholarship (which everybody has but nobody needs, so they buy clothes and watch movies and spend on stuff they don't need- I do it too, but hey, I usually do use a good bit of it on school supplies). Amongst other things, you have to select your nationality from a drop-down menu:

MEXICO
ARGENTINA
PERU
HAITI
USA
ANGOLA
ITALY

Are those all the options? I mean, like, you can't be French? Or Armenian? Or Nigerian?

Or is it because those are the only nationalities of people who are due to renew their scholarship...? (In which case, never mind)

Oh, but the annoying thing is, the options for "birth place" are only places inside Mexico. That IS annoying. If you select

"-"

it goes,

I need your birth pace, you moron! I can't give you money if you won't even tell me where you were BORN! JESUS! WE DON'T EVEN TALK ANYMORE!! WHO ARE YOU?? AND WHERE WERE YOU LAST NIGHT??? YOU WERE OUT DRINKING, WEREN'T YOU!? I BET YOU SPENT ALL THE MONEY I GAVE YOU ON BOOZE! AND DRUGS! I BET YOU DO DRU--

to which I reply with

YOU BASTARD!! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT ME!! MY NANA IS SICK, SHE NEEDS MEDICI--

actually, maybe you don't need to know about our private little spats. We make up later when I blackmail him her it.

Anyhoodle. Even if you select Haiti or whatever, the birth places are STILL ALL PLACES IN MEXICO. This leaves me rather disgruntled.

I shall go drown my woes in chocolate milk and ice cream.

PS. Happy birthday, Mom!

Today is the first day of the rest of your life.

I hate that phrase. It's depressing!

Today is also the first day of school, and I am now a fifth grader. I've got privileges, mwahahahaha! Like the privilege of making money by selling my old notebooks to gullible newbies.

So today I got up nice and early, and my first class was History- with an insane old woman, who told us she'd been in jail for the last two years because she hit some students "too hard", and called us dog-faced kids, and then informed us that she was well-practiced at throwing her metal ruler at her students (I don't know what to think of her... she's funny, but kind of very weird)

That's the only thing truly worth mentioning as for actual classes (except perhaps the Math teacher, who gave us three-hundred-and-something exercises, some of which we have to solve twice using different methods, to de-rust our brains from the oxygen we got during the holidays, I suppose).

Anyway, I didn't have any free periods today, so I had to do all my socializing afterwards :P

My best fwendy only had two classes today, and a lot of free time in between. Also, unlike yours truly, many her classmates are far from the ugly side. Agh! It was like this last year, too! Why does she get all the cute ones?? Seriously, in my class there is one (ONE) dude who is okay.

Pfffft.

Oh, and I decided to take an extra-curricular class thingy, Museology & Restoration. It sounds fun (unlike, say, banking, or accounting) and half of it is workshop-stuff; now I can try to salvage our ancient copy of Anne of Green Gables that my sister's hamster tried to snack on. It's three extra hours a day, every day, and a lot of work, but I think I'm going to enjoy it.

Or at least I hope I'm going to. Otherwise I just signed up for about 500 hours of hell.

zzzzzr

It's my last day of holidays, and I don't feel like doing anything...


T-T Hug me!

FAIL

There I was, ready and willing to make brownies. Brownies, so delicious, so easy, so family-pleasing! A new brownie recipe! Yum!

And then 15 minutes later I'm chiseling away the last of the scrambled eggs/ brown sugar/ butter ROCK that fell in love with- and decidedly attached itself to- the poor spoon that had the misfortune of meeting my hand in the cutlery drawer.

Although I must say, the parts of it that hadn't formed into a solid mass the consistency of steel were pretty tasty! Especially considering what it looked like. Something along the lines of fine asphalt, but brown.

Anyway, how in the world (outer space?) did that happen? I've made tons of brownies! And they were all good.

Motives

I often think about what motivates us to do things. I mean, what really makes us do things; who and what it is that we do them for. I've come to the conclusion that absolutely everything we do, we do for ourselves- humans are very selfish, it turns out.

Like, when you make a sacrifice. Suppose you really, really want the last cookie, but your best friend wanders in and expresses the deep love for cookies s/he has. And you decide that even though not having the cookie will make you feel kind of miserable (as not having cookies tends to do), you'll let your friend have it. Why did you just do that? Because you care about your friend?

I think it's because you thought it out and decided that if you make your friend unhappy by keeping the cookie, you'll be guilty enough to outweigh the nice feeling from getting the cookie - you'll be more unhappy than happy. If you give up the cookie, you'll be unhappy because you didn't get it, but you'll be happier because you won't feel any guilt - you'll be more happy than unhappy. So really, you didn't do it to make your friend feel good, you did it to make yourself feel good; it was the choice that made you feel happier, it was the guilt-free option. You don't care about your friends as much as you care about yourself, whichever way you look at it.

It's kind of muddled written down, so I tried my best at making that easily understandable. If you don't get it, nuts to you.

(Oh, and if you keep the cookie, it's because you feel better when you're happy than when your friend is happy. If you keep the cookie, you suck as a friend)


P.S. If anybody has $3.50 USD+shipping and a big, fluffy heart, dare I ask for this? It would make you happy to make me happy! We both win!

I wish I could sleep through this

They're at it again. Oh God.

The next-door-neighbours have some sort of noise-making organization (I guess it's a band to them) and once or twice a week we have to suffer through hours of... it. It looks like a children's story, when I write it down:

The drums go "poom-pa poom-pa poom-pa, pooooommm (dararara)!!! ... ... ... poom? ... Poom! poom-pa poom-pa..."

and then the guitar goes "heehaw! heehaw! (snort)"

and the vocalist just said something that sounds more like "awalai awayehhh!" than anything I've ever heard in my life.

They take a quick little break while the guitarist plays "Mary had a little lamb" out of tune. And then they keep at it.

My sister is recording them, and I'm having a little fantasy where I find some amplifiers and play it back at them, all day long.

Rapidín y en español

¿Conocen el castillo que está en Xochimilco? ¿El que está chiquito y bonito, pero como que fuera de lugar?

(Foto robateada cortesía de aquí)

Pues la semana pasada, en reunión familiar, disfrutando el pastel de cumpleaños de mi hermana (happy 19th, Reenie!) -que por cierto nos cayó pesado a todos al día siguiente- uno de mis tíos comentaba que se había puesto a investigar a ver qué onda con ese castillo, y resulta que alguna vez perteneció "al tío Aureliano" (tío de mi tío, o sea, tío de mi papá: mi tío abuelo). Resulta que el Tío Aureliano tuvo 18 hijos (!), fue uno de los primeros en separar gemelos siameses en 1917, y era exiliado político. Se codeó con Porfirio Díaz, con Victoriano Huerta...

Bueno, después de leer un poco, no creo que me hubiera caído bien si lo hubiera conocido... pero bueno, tampoco era para que no nos hubiera dejado su castillo ;P

Que por cierto, volviendo al castillo, ¿de quién es ahora? Ps quién sabe, pero si pusiera visitas guiadas de seguro se ganaría una buena lanilla y me haría un favor al satisfacer la curiosidad que tengo por ver cómo es por dentro.

Whee!

Okay, I keep on meaning to write, but you see I just can't find the time. Apparently when someone dies you pray every day, starting on the day they die, for nine days. And since we're close family members, we have to go extra-early to my grandmother's house to set up chairs, sleep, and sit in the kitchen nattering (it's hard work, but someone's got to do it) and then, once the prayer's over, go around and offer everybody food (Napkin? Coffee? Milk? Sugar? Atole? Tamal? Food is a big, big part of pretty much every social thingy). And then stand behind the little bar my grandparents have and pour more coffee.

So anyway, I spend a while over there. And when I get home I'm all tired. Oh, and a cousin is spending a lot of time here, making up for the fact that the other cousin we hang out with is off in England sipping tea with the Queen in a summer course thing, very near the castle where they film the Great Hall scene in the Harry Potter movies.

So we all hang out here, and then we all got sick (me, my sister, her boyfriend, my other sister and my cousin- the only one who was saved was my other sister's boyfriend) and puked a lot and felt miserable.

But mostly I haven't written because my sister's boyfriend, from now on known as Camilo (the one with the cool mom) is in this city to attend university and his home base, so to speak, is in Querétaro. So he went back to Querétaro for a few days to be with his cool mom on his birthday, which was on Thursday.

Now you may or may not (probably not) be asking your little selves what this has to do with anything. It has to do with the fact that he left us in charge of what he calls his baby, but is actually a Wii. We've been taking gooooood care of it :D

Beans

On Saturday I woke up to my 21-year-old sister chanting,

Beans, beans, they're good for your heart
The more you eat, the more you fart
The more you fart, the better you feel-
So let's eat beans for every meal!

Not a great thing to wake up to, especially because I was on the top bunk of my bed, so she was eye-level. She's been reciting that pretty often since, although today we were taking an afternoon nap in a pile on my grandfather's bed, and she sleepily condensed it to

Beans, beans, good for heart,
more eat, more fart
eat beans.

In the event that she has children, I am never, ever going to take care of them for her. I wouldn't want that woman's offspring in my house, thank you very much.

Although I did kind of get her back. I sang Tiny Tim's Living in the sunlight, loving in the moonlight until, when I reached the bit that says "Things that bother you, never bother me!" for around the fifteenth time, she said, "LIKE THAT SONG!"

Well, that's that.

I kept on thinking I saw him twitch in the coffin, or breathe. Really, I could have sworn I saw him breathe a few times. I had the feeling that he was going to open his eyes, look around and get up, annoyed that everybody was crying when he had explicitly said he didn't want anybody to be sad or to dress in black, because he had been happy man.

Everybody said he looked peaceful, and a lot better than when he was in the hospital. I didn't get to see him those last few weeks, because they don't let underage people in to see the patients. I can't tell you how much it sucked to sit on those little uncomfortable chairs/the floor in the waiting room the whole day, reading. Being the only one who couldn't visit.

I told my sister about the twitching-and-breathing thing, and she frowned and whispered angrily "Lalli!". Like I'd suggested we bury him with a sick hamster or something. Sometimes I think she'll grow up to be a little old sour lady, too- the kind that glares at you when you sneeze at an inappropriate moment.

God, I got sidetracked. Oops.

So, anyway, this is goodbye to my grandfather. Bye-bye. I love you. Take care, wherever you are, if you are anywhere :'(

Life is treating me well, but-

Not much has happened lately... I mean, yeah, stuff has happened, but nothing I really feel like writing about. Zzzz (I'm wearing pajama bottoms with blue clouds that say "sleep" and green stars that say "zzzz..." and I made them!)

You know how at a movie theater you hand over your ticket and then go into a corridor with doors to all the different rooms, showing different movies? Well, I went to watch a movie today and we were kind of annoyed at the system (or something) because the price of one measly liter of plain water was enough to buy another ticket (sans student discount, even!). So when the movie finished and we were leaving, we walked past the door to another room that was open, and the movie hadn't started yet. So we slipped in, figuring that SOMEONE owed us for the water, ahem ahem.

This is where karma kicks in. It turned out the movie was Alone with Her (Miradas Ocultas), about a stalker called Doug. Doug is walking through the park one day filming people when he sees a woman playing with her dog. Being the sicko that he is, Doug breaks into her home and puts cameras all over so he can see everything she does (and when she goes outside, he follows her and-yep- films her). So Doug and the audience get to see stuff I really would have rather not seen. Ew. Anyway, we left after about 15 minutes.

Next time I'm checking what the movie is about before doing that.

So then I went to see my grandmother (who needs moral support because of grampsies' condition and nevermindIdon'twanttodepressyou) and we watched Bend It Like Beckham, and then Pride & Prejudice with Keira Knightley but no Colin Firth -but that's okay, because we have the BBC version on DVD, and also several other movies with him, actually- and then when I got home I watched a Korean movie called Jeni, Juno which is absolutely adorable, plus the main male character is pretty much all you'd ever want. Mmm. And his name is Juno.

Actually, it's similar to Juno, which came out last year, but only in the sense that it's about teen pregnancy and that one of the main characters is called Juno, except in the Korean movie it's the (cute) guy, and in the American one it's the girl.

Also I don't like the American character (I like the actor, though).

I had a dream once where I was pregnant... I was walking down the street, it was sunny and a bit windy, and I was wearing a white dress. And I felt really happy for some reason.

Wow. I just... kind of... jumped from one thing to another on this post without really thinking.

I'm sleepy now... luckily my PJ's are halfway on!

I've been wondering,

Should I shave my head?

I think most women look ok bald (have you seen any photos of Natalie Portman when she shaved it all off? She looked great. Of course, I'm no Natalie Portman, but my point still stands), and if I
went swimming I wouldn't have to wear a fugly swimming cap the way the place I go to dictates, plus it would be totally nice not to have to wash the badger on my head every time I shower. Oh, and about showers, it would take a lot less time and I'd save a load of water.

Oh, and no bad hair days! That appeals very much to me.

In fact, I'll make a list.

- All aforementioned advantages.
- If you puke, none of it gets in your hair.
- No tangles.
- It feels funny if you rub your head when your hair's really short.
- No danger of chewing gum getting stuck in it.
- No need to carry four or five elastics around all the time.
- Head feels lighter.

I'm still playing with the idea... I'm not sure if I'll do it. If I can find a friend to do it with me (yeah, I know, good luck with that), I think I will.

Here's a Domo, there's a Domo

So yesterday I was talking to M.E. Serralde (on messenger) and he had this little Domo-kun icon, which made think about Domo... I was getting quite interested in acquiring one of my own, and I read somewhere that Domos often prefer warm climates and grassy places (with caves and televisions).

So of course I set out to hunt one in my very own backyard- and guess what I found!

A SQUIRREL!!

No, I'm kidding. I found a friendly little monster. But I'm pretty sure the only reason I caught Domo was because he had no arms, the poor thing. So I put him out of its misery by eating him (yum).

Anyway, I suck at icing (never done it before) plus I kind of made up my own icing recipe based on what my mom told me about icing... yeah, I won't ever be using this "icing" again.

<-- So over here is pre-legs Domo...


And down there is post-legs Domo.







My sister wanted to eat it before I even finished "icing" the mouth- and she's got a food blog and stuff. I mean, she should understand that I'd want to, I dunno, finish him first? :(

Although in her defense, he smells delicious and tastes better (it's sort of a recycled recipe. These Chocolate Cream Cheese Cupcakes minus the cream cheese and the cup. That leaves a very special chocolate cake, see? Only very slightly modified to make it even better. Who could resist?)

513

513...

513...

513!

I like the way it sounds. Five-thirteen. :) That's my class this year, which amazingly has NO JERKS in it (only a weirdo who was with me last year, too). Well, not any that I know of.

I've decided that this year I'm going to tutor people in English (sinse mee specks itt realli goodli, sinse I's Canadyanne and awl). This is due to my profound desire to help others and give back to society. I truly feel in debt to the school, and I would like to do anything and everything that I possibly can to help anybody struggling along; give them an extra nudge in the right direction, as well as make sure that they thoroughly enjoy their new experience as a student of the UNAM. You see, the UNAM not only offers a wonderful educative experience, it is a whole community of people- people who, I believe, should look out for each other and stand united. To be able to do this, however, we need to understand each other. We need to have complete trust in every single member of our University's society! We need solidarity!

I also need their money to buy clothes.

Oh, and if you need an inspirational paragraph, feel free to steal the one above and make the necessary modifications. I really just jotted it off in five minutes.

Hm~~~

I was watching America's Next Top Model on YouTube, and sheesh! Every single girl is convinced that they're special and there's no point in dong the whole contest because it's totally obvious that, like, they're going to win. Of course, there's two exceptions per season, but other than them, it's "me, me, me, me"

Wish me luck!

Well, this is it. Tomorrow morning I'm going to school to see what group I'll be in next year (i.e., August).

I just hope I get one with good teachers... looking back, I think last year I had a good balance: for example, the old Geography man, who dedicated between five and fifteen minutes to us a week, paired with The Physics Teacher, who made several people cry (personally I think she's nice, just not to her students). Or our Math teacher, who was nice and enjoyed teaching, the Spanish teacher, who was good (and liked me :D)...

Anyway, I really want to get good teachers, a good schedule and classmates who aren't jerks (I'm asking for way too much, I know)

Panda~~~

I was watching television this morning (did you know that in Japanese "television" is "terebi"? As in TV), a show called "En Busca de Bichos". It's a biologist that goes around the country and picks up animals and bugs and talks about them.

Anyway, it was funny, because at one point he wanted to catch a basilisk that was lying on a tree in a swamp, and he sprang at it out of nowhere and went "Aaarghh!", falling into the swamp while the cameraman laughed. The basilisk didn't get hurt, though, because he held it above his head.

-cut to something more interesting (to me, anyway)-

I went shopping yesterday and I bought the most adorable T-shirt ever! Behold the panda face!


Isn't it CUTE? It's a PANDA!! A PANDA FACE!!! ON A T-SHIRT!!!!

Ahem.

I got other stuff, too, but nobody wants to be a camera whore (supposedly).

Question!

(not the System Of A Down song, it's an actual question)

I was watching television yesterday with one of my sisters when she pointed out "the Chinese guy in the back".

I told her she shouldn't generalize like that- he could be Japanese, Korean, Taiwanese, Malaysian, Indonesian and so on for all we could tell. Wouldn't you, I said, be offended (or at least annoyed) is somebody called you Puerto Rican or something like that without thinking? (I would...)

She responded saying she wouldn't, because whatever nationality we are and whatever we look like, we are all on the same level: "It's not like I think that anybody from Puerto Rico is beneath me".

That may be true, but I still don't think that's a reason to designate people the first nationality that pops into your head when you see them.

So my question is: Who (if anyone) is right? What do you think about this?

Also, I just thought I'd mention this, I knew somebody who would go to unnecessary lengths to avoid mentioning somebody's race. Like, if there was somebody they wanted to point out, for example the only black woman in a crowd of people, instead of saying "the black woman" they'd say "the short woman in the red shirt, brown coat and black pants that's standing next to the tall man with glasses, drinking a beer" and I remember distinctly on one occasion they added "and... er, I won't say the other thing..." like it was a bad thing or something.

I mean, you can't help the color of your skin or, say, the shape of your eyes any more than you can help having big ears. And while it is not widely considered in the best of taste to refer to (address, point out...) someone by their race when you can do it by something else, I do think it's rude to avoid mentioning it at all costs, like it's some horrible disease that you generally don't want to think about.

My head hurts now :(

TRUE! story

Today I am going to relate to you a tale of ... of how awesome some people can be.

Once upon a time, almost two decades ago, there was a woman walking along the street. This woman in particular happened to be pregnant with a kid who was going to grow up and eventually be my sister's loving boyfriend (at the time, my sister was also a fetus), and that's why I'm telling you this. I wouldn't know this story otherwise.

So anyway, she was walking along and hailed a taxi, which promptly stopped and opened the door for her to get in. Before she could, however, a young woman zipped past her out of nowhere and into the cab, where she sat down, gave our main character a satisfied smirk, and them motioned for her boyfriend to join her in the taxi. This, of course, is something only a jerk would do.

At this point, said young woman is about to learn a very important lesson, which goes like this: never EVER do that again. Because our heroine pulled her out by the collar of her shirt, punched her in the face with such sheer force that the little creep actually fell down, and then got into the taxi, sat down, and told the driver to take her home.

The taxi driver exclaimed excitedly (and this is a direct quote): "¡A huevo, señora!" . I'm very sorry, but I can't translate that. The meaning is something along the lines of "Wow. You are a very cool woman and I admire you for what you just did. You rock!"

111,120 Kilometers Under the Sea

I started reading 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea this morning and after five pages I was ready to chuck it at Jules Verne's head, due to the fact that I had to stop every 30 seconds to convert feet to meters in my head, in the part at the very beginning when it mentions a bunch of different estimates of the sea monster's length and width, and how high it can squirt water and how big all the ships are and so on.

Has anybody published a metric version of that book? Because if not, I have absolutely no intention of reading it.

I found this while searching for a metric version of the book (I didn't find any, it's probably considered butchering a classic or something). Read that, it's good. Yes, metric isn't as poetic, but don't you think "foot" is a bit of an ugly name? Or "inch". It sounds like bug, except no one ever thinks about it because they're so used to hearing it. What about "pound"? It has a nice ring to it, but overall it's kind of weird as well. Pound. Poooound. Powwwwnd.

Aside from these exceptions, especially "foot" and inch", imperial sounds nicer: ounce, mile, pint. Yard. League.

Oh, another one I don't like is "stone". It makes me think of a bunch of cavemen lugging around a great big rock.

Help, I'm dying of boredom!

Quick, call the post office and tell them to hold my mail!

No, I'm kidding (and I stole that line from Scott Adams. Go buy yourself a copy of The Joy of Work, by aforementioned Scott. Then buy another and send it to me so I can resell it on eBay)

No, what I really need is a big box (not a bag, those aren't any fun) of Belgian chocolates shaped as seashells. Honestly, I tried to think of something else I want, but I couldn't. All I feel like doing is lying on my bed with my iPod, the book I started this morning and a big box of chocolates. Maybe also somebody to feed me the chocolate, because I need one hand for holding the book open and the other one to rest my weary head on. I had the third arm surgically removed, although I've been regretting that more and more recently, especially because I spent all my money on the surgery and now I have to resell books on eBay or a living.

Oh, yeah, my sister gave me a pacifier two days ago and I'm addicted to it now.

Holiday Goals - progress report #2

Progress on goal No. 1:

"Cook food. Actual food, not just brownies and cookies and so on. I want to try making dumplings, at least, because it's been ages since I had any and they're supposed to be really easy."

I'm lazy, and my sister wrote it for me, so here. I made bentos! Whee!
So they're not dumplings, but this is much better. The first one, anyway, because the second one (with the onigiris) isn't as nice because I was sleepy and I was watching Numb3rs at the same time = bento quality decreased.

So goal No. 1, I believe, has been achieved.

Three things

...that I would like to say. Count 'em:

This week I went to Cuemanco and saw a funny animal, sort of a cross between a ferret and a fox, about 20cm long. It was a sort of reddish color, with black and white rings around its face and a tail, about 5 or 7 cm longs, with a puffy little white tip. It was also the MOST ADORABLE FURRY CREATURE I EVER SAW and I have absolutely no idea what it was.

My sister agreed to give me the most awesome cellphone charm ever in exchange for the two that I had- a Hello Kitty in a brown dress and high heels (awesomely detailed: she has roses in her hat and is holding a book with some kanji on it, has a little necklace and so on) and a Hello Kitty cross-dressing as an old man (don't ask- I don't know) for...

...Hello Kitty dressed as Edward Elric from Fullmetal Alchemist. When I first saw it, two thouhgts crossed my mind at lighting speed: the first was "WTF?" and it was instantly replaced by "Cute. Weird. Want. WANT."

Lastly, I would like to share something with you. I rarely (um, never) do things like this, but these guys deserve the honorable(ish?) mention. It's a piece of the lyrics of "I Think I Can" by The Pillows, a JRock band:

"in the black forest without
day or night
the brave chameleon was
glaring at the discarded
compass"

The Pillows are some awesome dudes who, as far as I am concerned, exist for the sole reason of making my bestest friend happy (ah, I owe her so much).

Translation by Animelyrics.com

Rocky, Maxie & Dave

There's a Rocky movie marathon on TV right now, so I sat down and watched a few minutes of the beginning of one of them. My first (and basically only) reaction was, does Rocky always talk like that? Like, he was giving a press conference and a reporter said something like,

"There are rumors that after the fight you had some medical complications. Is this true?"

And Rocky was all, "Com-pluh-cashunnns?"

And his wife or something had to step in and go, "No." Because he couldn't speak.

Look, she's my doggie. Isn't she cute? Wook at the widdle dogsie wogsie. Who's my widdle darling poochy?

(Photo courtesy of what Dave Barry calls the CrapCam)

Speaking of Dave Barry, I watched Big Trouble before I ever read it. So when I picked up the book and failed to make a relation between it and the movie, it was freaky because I kept on feeling that I already knew the story vaguely, except that I was absolutely sure I'd never read it before. And not only that, but I kept on getting very clear mental images of a bunch of the scenes. With very real-looking people.

Chinatown

In exactly one month we get to see what groups we'll be in next year at school. It got me thinking, what will I do if I end up with a bunch of people I hate? Not that I hate a lot of people, but there's easily 30 or so people that I don't want to see every day, whether I hate them or not.

Using the probability skills that I learned in primary school (I have a box with four red marbles, two green marbles and a yellow marble. What are the chances that it will rain today?), I'll end up with about two of those people. That's a way bigger chance that I'll end up with any of my friends.

Aaaargh. I'll just have to wait and see. Dammit, why does it take so long to sort us?

On another note, today I went to Mexico City's kind-of-sad version of Chinatown. It's one measly street with about 10 stores and 10 restaurants (NOTE: If you were thinking of going there, by all means, do! It smells lovely and you can buy Japanese, Chinese and Korean candy due to the fact that the Mexican concept of "Chinese person" is "squinty-eyed", and therefore our Chinatown isn't actually Chinese. And I only saw like 2 Asians running shops).

I bought strawberry-flavoured gummies and ate them in a nearby park while 3 people came up and asked for money, tried to sell us flowers, chocolates and so on.

Daddy

This is my Daddy. (it's in Spanish.)

I guess he found it Googling himself, unless a student forwarded it to him or something.

Personal(ish) message to Daddy: Next year I'm going to do it SO MUCH better.

Drafts

Often I'll sit down and start writing a post, only to never finish it or decide I don't like it... or, in the majority of cases, get distracted and leave it hanging mid-sentence so that by the time I get back to it I can't remember what it was that I had planned(ish) to write. Actually, about one-tenth of the things on my post-list page thing are drafts. Huh.


Thus, for your enjoyment, I have dug up a few old posts that never actually made it and sat around labeled as drafts.

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From January 11th:


Oh, this sucks. I'm back in school, and I've only had one decent night's sleep (well, almost decent. I didn't actually get eight hours, it was more like six and a half, plus a half-hour nap on a couch in a moment of weakness).

Anyway. This year I thought instead of making resolutions, I would make predictions. That way, I won't feel guilty when I don't accomplish anything.

Predictions for 2008

1. I will keep on being a freak-magnet (out of four guys I've accidentally attracted this school year- that I know of, anyway-, three of them were twits. It's not that much numerically, but think of it this way: that's 75%)

2. I'll teach my friends to play Mancala.

3. I will grow 5 cm, it's now or never. I WILL GROW.

4. Oh yeah you're pretty good looking... for a girl, my future's wide open. But this feeling's still gonna linger on until I know everything I need to know now! *dances on the inside*


-----

What I can say about those predictions, so far, is:


1. True, true, true, TRUE! School year now officially over, the final results were 10 guys total, out of which:
-80% were, uh, not welcome
-30% were stalkers (one especially gets an honorable mention for being a pest)
-20% were successful

2. Failed, so far

3. Up till now, I've achieved 0.5cm. Only 4.5 to go!

4. That's a piece of a White Stripes song I was no doubt listening to at the time and that I am listening to again, right now (Yeah, you're pretty good looking, for a girl, but your back is so broken. And this feeling's still gonna linger on, until the year 2525 now...!)


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From December 27th, 2007:


I was just looking through some suitcases my Dad left on his bed and I found some really yummy Japanese chewing gum. It's like, lemon-mint or something. Mmm.

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Man, that was good gum.

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UPDATE: I was sitting here, passing the time with my good old iMac and a great big jar of Nutella when my Dad popped by and was like,

"I was reading your blog."

"Hn."

"... 10 guys!"

"... hn."

"But one of them seems to be keeping you very busy!"

"Hn."

"Is he nice to you?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Good, good." And he ruffled my hair.

Because obviously the rest of the post doesn't matter AT ALL, and actually neither does the blog for that matter. Nor, you know, the fact that I went through his suitcases.

Which is not that bad.

Actually I think it was more like my Mom was reading the blog to him, because I distinctly heard "Pancakes, not pancakes. Oh, no, it's 'pancakes', not pancakes. Heh! Did you hear that? Jorge? Pancakes!"

Damn, a mosquito bit me. Byotch... oh, there it is! ...

... mosquito-byotch has been terminated (that, or it made one hell of a fast getaway and is now living in Texas under a false name)

Holiday goals - progress report #1

Progress on goal No. 1:

"Cook food. Actual food, not just brownies and cookies and so on. I want to try making dumplings, at least, because it's been ages since I had any and they're supposed to be really easy."


Yesterday I made pancakes! Which is not baking because they're made on a stove, yay!!!
Although maybe I should say "pancakes" instead of pancakes. Because...


...it's not really what you'd call a pancake, under normal circumstances. Even though they tasted ok.

I don't get it, though... last time I made them, they were pretty, even, golden, round and delicious...

Oh, well. Next I'm gonna try dumplings!