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.