Sometimes I Hate Coming Up with Titles.

I think I’ve done it. I think I’ve finally become the kind of photographer that 12 year old me would envy and strive to one day become. Of course, as with anything, there is always room to grow, and I acknowledge that within my arts. However, I think I’ve finally stepped on the threshold of legitimately quality photography in my own eyes. I’m proud of myself for continuing to get better and better. Especially at editing. Taking good photos is of course the first step because shitty photos aren’t worth anything. But editing them is sometimes more exciting than the actual action of photography. You get to morph something beautiful into something that entirely eclipses the original beauty.

Here’s the photo that made me realize I’m actually kind of awesome (also a sneak peek of the next Vivography post!).

I feel like it’s brushing shoulders with professionalism and it really makes me stand back and take a look at the growth progression of my skills. And again, I am so proud of myself. I’ve worked hard for this! I don’t care if no one else recognizes that because I recognize it in myself and that’s the most important part. It’s kind of like the idea of “you can’t love anyone if you don’t know how to love yourself first” which I completely agree with.

Anyway, today in my Film & Lit class we watched Young Frankenstein starring Gene Wilder and it was quite possibly the best damn adaptation of Frankenstein I’ve had the immense pleasure of watching. It was hilarious! My class and I all laughed out loud constantly throughout the movie. It was so good, which is not something I would normally say about anything related to Frankenstein because I think the story is a bore. But I really enjoyed this movie and I highly recommend you all go and watch it right now, whether you’ve seen it before or not!

Speaking of movies, I watched one on Netflix about a week ago called Máncora. If you like foreign and artsily-cinematic films, watch it. It takes place in Lima (and Máncora) and chronicles a period of time in main character Santiago’s life after his father commits suicide. His step-sister Ximena and her husband come to visit in Lima and find out he’s leaving the next day for Máncora, so they follow him. I won’t say anything further because it’ll give away the plot, but it’s worth watching! And if you have Netflix it’s on instant, you have no excuse.

Lastly, and this doesn’t have anything to do with anything else – I desperately need a new phone and I am highly disappointed in the selection Verizon has to offer. The only enticing option I see is the iPhone and I don’t want to get an iPhone because they’re iCraps that you can’t do shit on and also I hate Apple. I wish I could get the HTC One X – IT’S WHITE, DAMNIT, IT’S WHITE – but I would never switch to AT&T. Grumble grumble, “first world problems” I don’t give a fuck, I just want a phone that won’t tell me I’m low on space when I’M NOT. Fuck you O.G. HTC Incredible! The new Incredible 4G LTE better be less shitty.

“My boner would keep you awake.”

You know how sometimes you have those days in your life that are just another day, nothing special? Actually, those turn out to be the majority of your life, but these days in particular are more insignificant than others. Today was one of those days. Although, it was HNI‘s birthday and while he was not on campus (a well deserved day off, if I do say so myself) I still left his presents and card on his desk. I was actually mildly excited throughout the day about that even though I knew he wouldn’t be there and won’t be seeing them until tomorrow.

I can (mostly) happily say I just about finished everything that needed to be done by today, however, the next snowball’s coming down the metaphorical hill. There’s a million new things to worry and stress about, including having to work a full weekend at my other job which I am not excited about at all. Except, I do get paid for working that much so on the bright side, MORE MONEY IN DA BANK! 

Also, I think I’ve done a pretty poor job of my challenge for this month of writing “thoughts” in the form of Thought Catalog which is where I got my inspiration for this month’s challenge. However, and I wasn’t going to say this yet but I can’t contain it anymore – I think for June I will do a challenge in the form of blogging “An Open Letter To…” every day. Writing letters to people that might not ever actually see them is a good therapeutic way of getting things off your chest – good, bad, embarrassing, or otherwise. I’ve been toying with the idea for a few weeks and I really like it. I’ve already got people in mind.

Lastly, I just wanted to share this wonderful snippet I found on my Tumblr dash, which is often filled with much raunchier things.

I approve.

P.S and ETA: The title of this post is possibly the best way to celebrate 250 posts. Also, I totally meant to mention this yesterday, but I forgot: Remember when I posted about these bikini tops? Yeaaaah….see that one that’s molded like a bra? I totally wore that swimming last night and HOLY SHIT that top is NOT meant for real swimming. It is meant solely for the purpose of looking cute while you slowly get skin cancer but look great in the sun. I nose-dived into the water after getting the bottom half of my body used to the temperature and wooooo wee I thought it was going to slip right off me. My boobs were all out and free for everybody to see – which was nobody, thank god, because we have our own pool and I was alone. I swam around a bit holding my boobs to make sure they stayed in there. Lesson learned – DO NOT WEAR THAT TOP AROUND OTHER PEOPLE EVER.

A Graduation Post.

I just spent the last 10 minutes or so crying about a DAYDREAM. The Glee season finale (which I will discuss shortly) peppered me up, but I had a good little cry session in the mirror (I know, this just sounds all kinds of odd) and now I feel better. What threw me over the edge was imagining my future daughter (if I were to ever have such a thing) telling me she had an imaginary friend named Lena and I immediately knew it was my great-grandmother. And I just started bawling. I am of the nature to believe in such things, and I wonder if even though I imagined this, it was her way of saying hello from the other side tonight. She passed away about 13 years ago and I don’t often think about her, but I have a strong feeling she poked my brain. WHAT IF IT WAS A PREMONITION THOUGH!? Oh my god, children…that I popped out…
I’m not entirely against having kids. I mean, don’t get me wrong, for the most part I am. They’re a huge responsibility among many, many other things. But if the right person came along and really wanted to have kids with me, I might consider it…I could be swayed. BUT I NEVER SAID THAT. *COUGH*
So about that Glee finale! I missed it last week, and I actually, believe it or not, had time to watch it tonight! First of all, the music choices were pretty great. What got me though was the graduation ceremony. That was LITERALLY the most unrealistic graduation ceremony I have ever seen on television. They were called out of alphabetical order, they freaking CAME OUT THROUGH CURTAINS and there were about 35 graduating seniors on that stage. Their high school cannot be a multi-national sports champion high school with so little graduates – no way in flaming hell. 
However, that particular scene jogged the reminiscence of my high school graduation and that’s when I started being on the verge of tears. I remember feeling nervous and excited as well as sad. I was extra nervous and excited because I was in choir my senior year (BEST FUCKING 6TH HOUR IN THE WORLD, BTW) and we performed at graduation. I wore my very high heeled Guess by Marciano wedges and happened to be on the top steps of the choral stairs. I had no trouble getting up there, but getting down was a different story. I personally think it was one of the most amusing parts of the whole ceremony and I look back on it with merriment. I got stuck on the top step (mostly due to fear of falling down and breaking my ankles or something of that nature) long after the rest of the choir had exited. I think about 2 or 3 of friends lagged behind to watch me struggle to get off the steps, and my fellow graduate friend Heather helped me down. I remember the audience laughing (me included) as our principal took to the microphone and I was still perched up there afraid of stepping down and slightly screaming for someone to help me down.

Oh look, it’s 17 year old me with short hair. Graduated with honors, bitches! Historian for National Honor Society 8). I think I might’ve been a little heavier here. I think. Maybe. I’m not sure.

Anyway, after remembering my high school graduation, I imagined what my college graduation might be like. I determined that I will probably cry, a lot. And hug people. Like, a lot a lot. I’ll probably be so emotional I’ll say really awkward things to people (it’s inevitable, I did it at my HS graduation too; I still feel embarrassed by those memories) and probably do awkward and embarrassing things as well.And then I shall be thrust into the real world.
And I will cry and wish I was a stupid teenager again with next to nothing responsibility, zero loan payment bills, and “real” summer vacations where I could stay up until 4 AM talking to friends on messenger chats and trolling the interwebz. Oh youth, where art thou gone?

Memorial Monday.

There is so much that needs to be done by this Wednesday, I’m on the verge of having a panic attack. Thankfully, I have about 50% of it all done, which I realized as I was coming out of the bathroom a few minutes ago, but it still feels incredibly overwhelming, like a constant storm cloud above my head dripping black rain. I’ve been in a state of subconscious paranoia/anxiety all day and it didn’t help that my boss from Job 2 texted me to ask if I could work a full weekend sometime soon. My pickings are slim since this term is PACKED with homework PLUS I need to make 2 more dresses for the fashion show. Just when there’s rainbows and butterflies, life rolls in a storm. 

However, today was quite pleasant despite these weights on my shoulders. My mom and I went shopping at Partridge Creek, which is a nifty outdoor mall about a stone throw away from another mall. Afterwards, I actually managed to convince my mom to go to The Hills for dinner. It was just us and another family for about 10 minutes which was a little depressing, but about 4 or 5 more groups showed up and it sounded like a restaurant should – clinky. When we came home, I went swimming (more exercise!) and showered.

Now, I wouldn’t normally mention showering because it’s not that big of a deal except this time it was. I bought Suave kids shampoo after my hair stylist yelled at me for using shampoo not made by companies that specialize in hair. There’s a weird build up in my hair that’s almost waxy and he recommended I use something like Johnson & Johnson to wash it out. Anyway, moral of the story is my hair smells like watermelons and I feel like I’m 8 years old again. Why do we stop using kids shampoo when we get older? That shit is awesome.

I almost bought that Dora Strawberry shampoo, but went for Spongebob’s Watermelon one cause I decided I didn’t want to see Dora’s annoying face while I was showered.

Lastly, while I may celebrate Memorial Day by shopping (every year) I should mention that even though I’m an immigrant and I don’t really associate with the whole American pride thing as much as a native might, I very much appreciate past and current soldiers who have fought for this country and its freedoms that allowed my family and me to live here. Cheers!

Fear: Rejection.

I should start keeping a mini notepad with me at all times so I can write down the ideas that come to me throughout the day of what I should talk about here cause I always forget when the time comes to write. I know I had specific ideas while I was at work, but I’ve forgotten them.

Instead, I will brood some more on my lack of a love life. The other day I watched a video from Dr. Carmen Harra about ‘the secret to perfect relationships‘. Let me preface this by saying that when I had that whole drama-llama shit about the memes 2 weeks ago, I remember getting on Facebook and BAM that video was IN MY FACE and I thought how fitting, God or whoever plays these things like this, to shove an answer in my face at such a time. I didn’t watch it then but kept it in the back of my mind.

Anyway, in this video she explains things that I think we all subconsciously know but refuse to acknowledge in the conscious level of existence. In order to maintain good relationships one must first switch off fear and defensiveness, and turn on self-awareness, patience, and tolerance. Now, I’m not going to go into detail about all these points because it’s easier to just watch the video, but I will draw a conclusion on fear. In the video she says when you’re afraid of something, you draw in exactly that which you fear into your life.

She says you can eradicate your fear with a little bit of introspection: ask yourself what you’re afraid and why you’re afraid of it. Where did it come from? So I did just that. In terms of my love life I determined that I’m afraid of rejection because I’ve been through nothing but rejection all my life. I’ve been broken-hearted and left to pick up the pieces so many times, I’ve lost count. Literally. I’m sick of going through that and I want to throw my towel up but I can’t because I still have hope right now. It’s a flickering flame and it’s been rooted in me since last summer.

Furthermore, if the law of attraction holds true then is my desire to attract someone (in particular)…stronger…because I want it so much? I go back and forth on this often, and I know in order to truly see any kind of positive result I should let go of the fear and doubt that it couldn’t or won’t happen as I want it to. I know that clouds the possibility of it really happening, but I also know that it hurts to have your hopes shattered. I’ve had all kinds of grieving processes in the past from a broken heart. Some of them were like ripping band-aids off – quick and only mildly painful. Others have been really rough and sometimes I still feel that achey heart feeling thinking about them. I don’t want to go through that again. Part of it feels like I might. The other part of me hopes the complete opposite. 

And it’s moments like this that make me hyper-excited to get my ‘fortune told‘. I should’ve asked that psychic last summer more in-depth questions about my love life. Not sure if I ever mentioned it, but she told me I’d be married within the next 3 to 4 years and I would have 2 kids. It still blows my mind.

P.S. It’s rather difficult to write posts of this nature sometimes without mentioning names or clues about who they might be referring to. But I think I beat around the bush well enough…Even though I kind of don’t want to, like, at all. Why are we humans so lame like that?

ETA: I found this on Tumblr earlier today and wanted to share it. Highly, HIGHLY relevant, because freaking YES PLEASE.