Imagine that

An imagination is the pathway to oblivion. It's like a free magical drug in your brain that you can use at your own discretion.

When you're bored, lonely, scared, or just feeling the hate of the world, it can open up worlds of fantastic dreams that can take you away from reality, into a place where the impossible is possible.

The imagination creates things. Anything. When people say "Oh, well the sky's the limit" I just want to smack them because, hello didn't your history books ever tell you about that man in space. The sky was never the limit.

The imagination can create a best friend or a funny memory. It can yank your brain right out of it's body and pull it along in an epic quest to save the prince/princess. It can lead you through wonderland, with the sheer knowledge it's leading you to your death.

The imagination is my best friend.

Scenarios where having an imagination is extremely vital:

1. Long Car Rides
2. Long Lectures
3. Any kind of lecture
4. When adult figures are speaking
5. When talking to someone you hate
6. Art
7. Projects
8. When you have a 3 page paper due in 5 hours and you need that extra boost of inspiration
9. When you need a post subject when writing a blog
10. When your parents won't let you have a hedgehog because illegal in your state
11. Church
12. While sitting in Jail

Speaking about the imagination and art:

Meet Adam Wallacavage, He is the coolest guy I know. My parents are best friends with his sister and family, and my family has grown up hanging around them.  He's this amazing artist that makes these bangin chandeliers that can only be described through the whimsical world of (can you guess) the imagination.

Go watch this video, NOW

http://www.alterstreet.com/a_episodes/Episode%20002%20-%20Adam%20Wallacavage/epMaster.php

Favorite Quote for the Day:

I don't have a dirty mind. I have a sexy imagination.

I apologize...

Sorry I haven't been on in a while... I had a laser tag party, SATs, a craft show, and a lazy day. Miss me?

Anyhoo today's a sick day. You know those mornings where you wake up all, "echblechenle" but you think "You'll feel better soon, it's just morning ich". So you hold out and go to school.

Then you get to school and it hits you, that you still feel like you got dragged underneath the school bus, while it was raining and minus 2 degrees out side, then you got dumped in a mud puddle.

That's basically the start and end of my day. I've got this nasty nose/head/congestion thing that's giving me shivers.  So I'm sitting there, and I'm trying not to show I'm sick but what what I see is totally different to how other people perceive me.

 

Because as soon as I walked into school, my class stopped and went, "Are you sick?".. The aftermath of that sort of went with "Go away, no one wants you here, you're gonna get us all sick, LEAVE!"

 

The point is, how do other people perceive you.

 

I don't know about you,

but my voice sounds like a duuuude,

everything will be alright if I never ever moooove,

What if I have to pee?

 Or sneeze or cough or  puuuuke?

Everything will be alright if, I can just make it to the

bathroooOOOOoom. BathroooOOOOOoom.

 

Ok well that was off topic. What I was trying to say was

"I don't know about you, but I love to people watch"..

 

It's my favorite past time. I play this game where I sit in the coffee shop and give everybody that passes a name, a story, and a personality. I also play the game where you play future me... For instance. Say this..gir- no...bo- no...person was walking by.

 

 

 

So I would go:

 

This is me in about 10 years. I was so sick of living the refined society life, that i skipped town and reconstructed my face so I would be unrecognizeable, but the surgeon messed up. Then I ran off and joined a hippie colony where I've been living for the past 3 years. During those three years I grew dreds, sang to a whale, saved the gecko speckled leather bellied fish, and made this awesome rasta cap. Today is my one day out of the colony, and I decided I was craving a caffeinated beverage.

 

So that's how you play. But the funny thing is, how does that...person... perceive....itself...??

 

There's nothing I wouldn't give (not true I totally wouldn't give up netflix...everything else is okay though), to spend one day in another person's brain, just to see how other people see me. I'd give (almost) anything.

Unsatisfied

Girls are never satisfied. It's a part of our design, our DNA. We're constantly striving for greatness, and even when we attain it, it's never good enough. We're never content with who we are.

We struggle, and we try to make ourselves better through a plethora of materialistic things like makeup, gyms, diets, high heels, clothing, liposuction, breast implants, face lifts, shaving, waxing, and a couple of things too horrible to even mention. Why are we never content?

Guys are always content, but that's not really taking into account that a guy can go to bed and wake up looking even better than he did the day before.

Girls on the other hand, struggle in the morning. Have you ever had one of those days where you stumble your way to the bathroom and all you can see is

This is my morning every morning. Of course my first reaction is to splash alittle morning freshness on my face, so all my makeup smears down my front with a look that can only be described as horrifying.

It's hard being a girl. We do so much, and for what? FOR WHAT? Guys can look at you and go, "You look nice today", when you actually look like that guy from Kiss. And all you can do is look at them and say,

"I look like the Joker"

 

.... and walk away.

 



Girls don't look nice for guys, even though that's what they think. We, girls, look nice for other girls. Why is that? It's been this way forever. Guys could actually care less about what the girl is wearing, as opposed to how little the girl is wearing. Girls are the ones who sit there and go,

"Oooh I love her pants"

"OMG what IS she wearing?"

"Is she really wearing that?"

"Is that Armani?"

etc.

We're insecure, and we don't have to be.  We are beautiful, beautiful creatures.

Favorite Quote for the Day:

Make-up can only make you look pretty on the outside but it doesn't help if your ugly on the inside. Unless you eat the make-up.
― Audrey Hepburn

Ok this one's a rant

I think I have anger issues.

I was trying to straighten up the house for my mom, when my little sister just flat out refused to help. Then she started stomping around because I wouldn't let her use the phone to call her little friends until she put away her bike. Then when I asked her where I could put her folder because I was trying to clean up, she turned around and screamed "I'M STILL USING THAT!"....


So being the totally cool, calm, collected, and role model sister that I am, I threw her folder down, and kicked it so it went flying across the room, hitting her backpack with a loud THWACK.

 

All the while I'm standing there huffing like a steam engine. 

Of course, then she started sobbing and while grabbing her folder ran upstairs to nurse her wounds, which if you ask me, where totally self-inflicted.

Do I have anger issues? Is that normal? Of course as soon as that first tear hit the floor, an onpouring of guilt washed over me like that tsunami that smashed into poor old little Japan. (Funny story: my little sister's asian, so the analogy kind of works)

But of course, after the initial denial that any part of her grief was my fault, I realized that my delivery could have been alittle smoother.

Then my parents came home, and were super happy with the cleaned house for all of 15 minutes...

I had set the nook ontop of the toaster...not thinking...and well the toaster got turned on and the nook got hot....really hot. And all of a sudden everyone's flipping out over "WHO PUT THE NOOK ON THE TOASTER!"

Well I told them it was me, and I turned on the nook while they were still flipping out and it still works... Then my dad got all upset that I didn't react with a "OMG!" and an overraction like him. Then he gets on this soap box about how, "You don't care. Why don't you care? Stuff like that doesn't grow on trees. You're so ungrateful...blehblehbleh." When I just had to sit there and acknowledge the fact, that cleaning the house, and helping to cook, and doing all the shit I do was not even being taken into account. Maybe I'm wrong here. I probably am. The whole self-blame process takes alittle longer for me.

I'm so tired...I think I'm just going to quit for the day, the next post will be better, I promise.

Comment below if you think I'm in the wrong, criticism from strangers is so much easier to take.


Favorite Quote for the Day:

I hate two-faced people. It's so hard to decide which face to slap first.

Pregnancy is not an option....part two

I guess I left the last post off on a weird note... but you know, stuff like that isn't good for the morning, it put's a damper on your day. I had to eat a pack of Ritz Peanut Butter crackers, a bagel, and some peach snapple before I could pull myself out of the dark hole it sunk me into. I decided to finish because

1. I'm getting some sushi in about an hour so I'll be able to release any tension this decided to slap down onto my soul.
2. I'm not running anymore (see "Oh dear...)
3. It'll be nice to get this out of the way

If you haven't looked at part one, take a quick peek at it, just so you're not confused.

A beautiful girl from "down under" commented asking me about adoption so I decided to start off with that.

Adoption can be a sensitive topic, but it doesn't have to be. I have two other sisters adopted from China as well.  Maybe one day I'll write down the story.

My parents are great, they're super, super open about the whole adoption thing. (I mean it's seeing as you know, Dad's Irish, Mom's Italian, and they have three asian daughters...it's kind of hard to hide). Anyways being adopted was never a negative thing, my mom would always say to me, "You know, normal kids, their parents were stuck with what they got. Me and your Father, we chose you."

But that's not to say it wasn't hard. It was always hard. I remember one time they asked us to do a family tree, so I drew a picture of me with a question mark over my head... I got an "A+"

I don't know when my birthday is. I know it seems like a little thing, but you don't know what you're missing if you've never not had it. Of course, now I can wake up everyday and wish myself a happy birthday, because every day is my Birthday.

I always feel out of place. Sometimes I don't even feel comfortable in my own skin. But I always have the saying, "Nurture not Nature." Just because my mom didn't birth me, doesn't mean anything. I have her personality, her creative artistic view at the world, and her ability to make anyone feel comfortable and safe. I have my Dad's love of science. I have his love of music, and his respect of politics.

People often ask me if I'd ever go back. You know, to China. I did. I went when I was in third grade to adopt my little sister, Bridget. She was so cute. Funny story though, she looked like a boy when she was a baby, and I was so freaked out I made my mom check the diaper.

I never want to meet my birth mother... and if given the chance, I don't know if I'd have the courage too. I love my parents, and I'm happy with them. My mom is my mom and my dad is my dad. It's that simple. It makes no difference if they birthed me or not.

I forgave my birth mother. It took a while, and lots and lots of therapy. I had alot of anger and sadness, but I've learned to trust and let go. No matter the circumstances, she chose life. She chose not to kill me. She decided that I was more than a fetus, I was a child, and she chose life. I love her for it, forever and always.

Sorry this post was such a downer, I just had to finish... the next one will be better. I promise. It's also my time of the month so I probably made this much more depressing than it had be. On that happy note...

Favorite Quote of the Day:

Knowledge is knowing a tomato is a fruit; Wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

Pregnancy is not an option

I love babies. I really do. They're cute, and cuddly, and fuzzy, and fluffy. They're like living teddy bears. But pregnancy is not an option. I'm a five foot asian and me pushing out a baby, would be like trying to squeeze a watermelon out of the leg of a 00 pair of skinny jeans. NOT POSSIBLE!

But, I am a tremendous advocate for adoption, seeing as I am adopted, so I totally support the whole process

It's not Loki's fault... THEY MADE HIM THAT WAY!!!
(I love you Loki, forever and always, right after Matt Smith, Shang, and Zuko)

 



I often wonder what my birth mother was like. Being adopted from China really leaves alot of holes in my life, like who she actually is, who she was, what my birthday is, how old am I really, who was my father, do I have any brother's or sisters, why did she give me away... You know all those light easy and fun topics we discuss over the dinner table. Sometimes I don't feel 100% chinese. Maybe my dad was white. I don't really know, but over the years people have expressed their views on my parentage, and most conclude with the idea that my I'm a mix. So that got me thinking about how my mom would or could have gotten pregnant with a white guy, and came to the conclussion that she must be a prostitute....more on this later, it's alot to think about