Friday, December 23


I feel like a corporate rouge. It's getting to the point where I just want to go. I don't care where, I don't care about sleeping arrangements. I just want to go. The problem is, each new trip doesn't quench my thirst for more. It only feeds the flame.

Thursday, December 22


It struck me yesterday as I was waiting in line at Taco Time that maybe our reality isn't actually real. I just had a sudden terrified thought that maybe a $20 wouldn't suffice an $8 ticket, but that it is merely what we've been taught to believe. And why are the numbers like that? What if E came before C? What if it does and we're all wrong?
      What if my reality is different from the boy's who sat next to me on the plane. Obviously, our immediate realities - him living in Miami, and me in Seattle - are different. But what if it's entirely different? What if I'm the only person who experiences airplanes the way I do? What if what I think happens when I'm driving isn't actually what other people perceive. The bubbles in carbonated soda - maybe the sensation it gives my tongue is a complete fabrication a la my mind? The mind is a powerful thing, you know.
     When we get itches, what's really happening is a defensive mechanism. Our senses pick up a microscopic (and sometimes not so microscopic) foreign object brushing up against our skin. That sends a signal to our brain which tells us we need to scratch. Not because 'we're itchy' but because we need to ward off the epidermis invasion. It's actually pain; scratching is. The brain categorizes it as minor pain that distracts us from the fact that something is touching us that shouldn't be.
      Have you ever tried to not scratch an itch? To deliberately not scratch it? The urge seems to intensify to me. And that is all completely in my head.

Saturday, December 10

Potential Opener for Hide & Seek

“He’s dead.”
“No he’s not.”
“Adelaide – he’s gone.”
That’s not right. He wouldn’t do something like that. He’s too full of himself and – well frankly I don’t think he has the audacity. But no, I don’t even need to think about that because he didn’t do it. I’m hearing his voice right now, so he can’t be dead. He’s on the television for goodness sake.
                Well, I guess that’s not him on the television. It’s a picture of him. I can’t really hear what their saying, but it can’t be “he’s dead”.  People are cheering, but people always cheer when he’s around. The people love him. Although, after the last few months I’ve had, I’m not entirely sure why.
                Okay, here we go. They’re showing more than just his face. It’s just a pile of rubble, though. I don’t understand the correlation. Isaac apparently senses my confusion. Or it’s just written all over my face like usual.
                “It’s the Berghof, Addie.”
                “No it’s not.”
                That’s not my house that’s been bombed. Sorry, that’s not my father’s house that’s been bombed. But then I guess if he’s dead it is mine. Nevertheless, that’s not ours. Our house is not being set on fire by our enemies. His enemies. This is so confusing.
                “Are you alright?” Isaac looks concerned. And weary. I haven’t seen him in almost three months and he really looks terrible. His cheeks are sunken and his arms and face are covered in bruises and welts. Though, I can’t imagine I look much better.
                “No, I…?”
                “It’s over, Addie. Everything is over. We’ve been liberated. Your dad killed himself because he knew they were coming after him. The Americans bombed your house and the French have now set it on fire.”
                I look back at the screen. My bedroom is nonexistent. Grandmother’s living quarters are now ablaze. There’s nothing left.
                “So that’s it, then. It’s over.”

Friday, December 9


I envy those with freedom. Those who can’t decide between sitting at Starbucks all day or sitting in their room. Those who – even for just one day a week – wake up at their leisure, have breakfast for lunch, draw, make music, read stories and then write better ones. Those who plan to go to the store today but then, don’t, because they have all day tomorrow too. Those who have time to prepare and eat all three meals in a single day; those who have the ability to utilize banks on Saturdays – or any days, for that matter.
I don’t think people appreciate freedom like that as much as they should. I don’t think students –especially those with the freedom to create their own schedules – understand what they have. And adults who work five days a week: drink it in. You have two full days to do whatever you want. Sure, the bathroom needs cleaning, but you could do that on Sunday.
                On May 21st of this year I was in London, but you wouldn’t have known it. I stayed in my hotel room the entire day and I regret nothing. I didn’t set an alarm, I didn’t change out of my pajamas – no wait, I did. I put on jeans to go down to the hotel lobby for a panini from Costa Coffee. Mmm it was delicious. QI & Mock the Week marathons were on consecutively so I was absolutely satisfied staying in bed all day.
                So in February when I’m in London again I’m most looking forward to doing nothing. I don’t know if you’re grasping this: I will be transitioning from working 60+ hour weeks to 0. There is no job for me there, and I’ll be there for long enough to probably miss one. Just…all I want to do is sit at Hyde Park and write stories. That’s all I want to do with my life. I can’t wait to begin it.   

Tuesday, December 6

Airplanes in the Night Sky

Didn't get around to posting anything yesterday. Sue me.

I just bought my plane ticket to Disneyland next Tuesday. For three years I've been wanting to see the park during the holidays. I've been there for Spring, Summer, and Fall (all in the past year and a half, actually) but never for Christmas and I stumbled upon a great bargain the other day.

     I am terrified of airplanes. You'd never know it, of course, because really you can't allow something like that to get in your way. But every time I get dropped off at the airport it hits me full in the face. Every time I get on an airplane I feel like I won't ever be getting off. And trust me - I've had a few experiences that have given me good reason to feel that way.
    The first time I ever went anywhere by myself was to Disneyland for a day last March. It was the first time I had rented a car by myself, the first time I was even at an airport by myself. It was the most terrifying experience I've ever endured. The rental company picked me up crazy late, the car was all wrong, I got lost on the freeway, I called Dad for directions but we couldn't really gather where I was, the rental car engine light came on, they almost didn't let me into the hotel because it's under my parents' names, AND THEN the car company barely got me back to the airport in time to make my flight.
      So you can see then why my trips make me so ansy. Being as I'm not checking into a hotel, I've got Disney as a transportation vehicle, and I will only have a small bag with me, I'm not too worried. I'm quite excited, actually. People always ask if going to a theme park alone is weird. Frankly once you get used to going to the movies, to the mall, to the airport, to foreign countries, and international film festivals alone, a theme park is nothing. There gets to be a point where company begins to feel a bit intrusive - but that's a topic for another time.

Suffice it to say, I'm going to be wired or the next 150 hours.

Sunday, December 4

My Favorite (Holiday) Things

Red Starbucks cups, candy canes, radio stations dedicated to Christmas music, seeing your breath in the dark, cinnamon cloves burning on the stove, the smell of the Christmas tree, houses that go overboard with lights, putting up fairy lights in my room, being secretive, oversized sweaters, Christmas classics on prime time television, bundling up in scarves and hats, little girls in berets, rush hour in the dark when all the cars have their lights on, wreaths for car grills, Santa meet n greets in the mall, boots, the silence just after a fresh snowfall, black dogs playing in snow fields, losing white dogs in them, the frango set up outside of Macy's, unwrapping old nostalgic ornaments, adult snow days, apple cider, pie bake-offs, happy hearts, cinnamon buns for breakfast, eggnog, the sudden ideal that sweets can and should be consumed at all times, santa claus figurines, dark makeup, Terry's chocolate oranges, bananas in the stocking, when your nose turns red after being out in the cold, changing out of wet clothes, wrapping gifts, enough mashed potatoes to swim in, excitement, the Christmas specials, AND ON IT GOES.

Saturday, December 3

The Great Dictator Speech

Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work; that will give youth the future and old age a security.
Occupy Wall Street: this is not what you’re doing. You’re disillusioned. Citizens of Yemen: this will not be the result of your actions. What are we doing? None of this makes sense anymore. We’re not fighting the right people. We’re not progressing. We’ve devolved into selfish, fickle beings with a knack for self destruction.

Friday, December 2


I have decided that the five current projects I have in my life are not enough, so to top it all off this month I’m doing BEDD: Blog Every Day December. Yes, I did make it up. In classic Diana fashion, we start late. Let’s begin:
                I’m having a hard time understanding why people don’t travel more. I mean there’s this whole huge Earth and every place is extraordinarily different from the last. There are different languages and cultures and climates and people. Even in the same country there are a multitude of differences from one border to the other. I don’t understand how someone can look at all of that, how they can know all of that and still be okay with staying put.
                I just figure if I’m going to have all this time to flop around with, why not climb the bridge in Sydney harbor? Sleep with the sharks at the underwater hotel in Dubai, visit a tropical zoo in the tropics, see the Great Barrier Reef through a glass-bottom boat, get serenaded by a boys’ choir in Westminster Abbey, ride a donkey down the Grand Canyon, safari for mountain gorillas in Uganda, wash an elephant in Chiang Mai, ride a camel through the Sahara desert.
I’m just saying in China they eat dog and in Australia they’re pushing kangaroo meat and if you’re into that sort of thing why not give it a try? In France everyone dresses to the nines and in the tropics no one seems to own shoes. There are places where you can see the ocean floor when you’re in ten feet of water. How is that not intriguing? In London, where no one will meet eyes on the Tube and Tennessee where strangers can’t stop greeting one another. The Rocky Mountains look nothing like the Himalayas and both deserve a decent look.
                You’re going to tell me you’re busy, aren’t you? Finals are tomorrow, or something. Well I don’t buy it. I’m not going to tell you going to a foreign land isn’t terrifying – because it is – but it’s worth it. So I guess I just don’t understand how you can know all of that is out there and still settle for your front porch.

Sunday, November 13


Whilst I'm not a mother, and shan't be for quite some time, lately I feel like I'm a surrogate mother to quite a few kids. A day rarely goes by these days when I'm not being barfed on, changing poopy diapers, bottle feeding, organizing nap times, potty training etc.

So, if there's another immaculate conception this century and it happens to be me, I feel prepared.

Enjoy these gems in the meantime. (They were not my idea. She's the instigator.)

Saturday, November 5


Fiddled around yesterday and this is what came of it:

song = Jeremy Larson's 'Remission'

Friday, October 28


Sometimes I have spells of panic attacks and nervous breakdowns. I've had them for years. When I was younger I would give in whole-heartedly. Collapse, cry. It felt like my world was ending over and over and there was nothing I could do to stop it. At the time I wasn't capable of communicating exactly what was happening to me - when a seven year old tells a doctor that she fears for the life of her family and those aorund her on a daily basis for no apparant reason it doesn't really go over well. Not here, anyway. So I gave the absolute basic information possible which was inevitably narrowed down to my having an unexplainably severe case of vertigo.
It was around that time that I realized breaking down everytime wasn't getting me anywhere especially with the vertigo label. I realized that if you fall apart too many times, people stop trying to put you back together. Eventually you become a casualty and recovery becomes ten times harder. So you bear it. Your knees lock together and your chest gets tight and you just keep walking. Your breathing becomes shallow and the room starts to spin and it's all you can do not to fall to the floor and give in, but you can't. If you fall, they'll walk over you. If you cry they'll drown you out. So you focus, deep breaths, and you soldier on. And you never stop.

Saturday, October 8


My desires out of life are beginning to change. I'm beginning to realize that it's not what I want to do with my life, but how I want my life to go that matters.

I hate talking about "My Life" as if it's some futuristic event that shall take place once I have all my affairs in order. I know that's not the case - that will never be the case - still, I can't help treat it as though it is. Because frankly, I still haven't become an adult. I suppose the magical moment in time when I Become An Adult is when My Life will officially begin. Or something.

Nevertheless, I'm realizing lately it's not the career or the family or location that I'm particular about. I'm beginning to take concern in how I'm treated and how I feel. I'm tired of being in environments where I'm constantly being demeaned and condescended. I know how smart I am and it gets extremely irritating having people gawk at me when I try to speak up. It's ridiculous. As a result, I've grown to loathe where I'm at. I find myself complaining on the regular and it's not fair. It's not fair to me or the people who constantly have to listen to it.

Furthermore, the work that I'm doing isn't extraordinary. It isn't even exceptional. It's been bothering me for a long time that I'm supporting a world I'm embarrassed by. There are a multitude of worthwhile things I could be doing with my time, and yet I'm not. And there are no excuses and I'm fully aware that it is I to blame for the predicament I'm in, but it's a lot easier to sit on the couch and watch a movie than confront my personal demons, you know?

Friday, September 23

Family Vacations

It has now been proven that I am exponentially better as a solo traveller. I save more money, I spend more time at the destinations than in the hotel rooms, and most of all: there is no one around to drive me insane. The last time I was around my family for this long was seven years ago. We've all changed  lot over the course of seven years. We even have some new additions of whom I've never been stuck with for this long. What shall we call it...a learning experience? Yes, that sounds quite happy enough.

Now, thats not to say I don't enjoy family vacations. I was very happy to get to see my cousins again and meet some of their children for the first time. In fact, I'd be ready to do it again. Some of my relatives that we visited this time, we were told (as we always are) to never expect to see them again. This is always the case when Grandpa comes up to visit, but this time I was hearing it about Grandmother, too. She's a mere 80 but the words that would fall out of her mouth left some of us a bit frightened. I can't imagine the day I tell my children and grandchildren "This is definitely the end" as we stuff into the largest booth at Chilis.

I think what I enjoy most about solo travel is how untainted it is. I went to Disneyland Paris by myself and have a completely biased opinion of it, but it's my opinion. It isn't tainted by others' who have already been there before. Everything I see, I'm seeing for the first time. When I saw the Sydney Opera house I was judging it soley on my own terms. I didn't have people putting their thoughts into my head next to me. (Then again, maybe thats why I didn't like Sydney and Paris).

Still, being with the same group of people 24/7 for the past two weeks, I've started planning the rest of my 2011 trips. The travel bug has bitten me again hard this time even though we've just been in the states. I'm thinking Central / Northern South America for Thanksgiving, and Europe for my birthday / New Years? Ohh yeah.

Wednesday, August 31

Busybee / last BEDA

For reasons beyond my understanding, my outlook on my current situation has changed. Maybe it was the glimpse at the fall schedule my boss allowed me yesterday, or my finishing Bossypants last night, or possibly the call from my other boss this morning, nevertheless I'm actually really inspired by my CRAMMED PACKED schedule.

I had an actual sit down think-out about my life when I realized how much I love being busy. I love being pressed for time and having a full agenda. Naturally I feel a day has been more successful if it has been jammed packed than if I've only done a few things.

I can't actually remember what it's like to not have something to do every single day. I don't entirely remember what it's like to be bored and really can't recall the last time I went the entire day in pajamas and didn't spend the time vomiting into a metal pan.

All this to be said, I'm actually getting a bit excited about my 50-60 hour work weeks that await me after our trip. Life moves faster that way, and as they say: no free time means no time to spend all the money I'm making. So to Life I say: Bring it on.

Tuesday, August 30


Such a simple word. Such a simple concept, and yet it is something that seems to be rapidly slipping from my grip. I have a laundry list of things that need to be done (including laundry, ironically), but I seem to have so little time in which to do them. Working seven days a week really takes it's toll, and getting a social life in there means kissing goodbye to any order and control in my life. Things are piling up what with our trip around the corner, so everything that was on the back burner of life is now pushing itself to the forefront of my mind and I'm beginning to go mad.

Being as I also find myself carless, my agenda is literally not my own which makes trying to sort it all out even more complicated. I have to coordinate getting rides to and from places, borrowing other peoples' cars, staying home a whole lot more. I have to depend on people and that's not something I am accustomed to nor do I really want to grow accustomed to it. I'm used to helping people out. I'm good at being dependable. I am not good at being a burden. I can't stand it. I don't like feeling indebted to someone.

My original plan upon returning from the trip was to start saving for Australia and just forget about buying a new car. I'm not considering pushing the move out a month and buying a "decent" car (I can get one for about a month's wages.) Ugh I just cannot live like this anymore.

Sunday, August 28


Went on a photoshoot scour thing with Sharaya, Ryan, Mitchell, and Allison today around Seattle. Here's a taste of what came of it:

Saturday, August 27


I'm currently writing this book (and by 'currently' I mean for the past year now) and frankly I'm in love. I love writing. I get this sensation after I plot out characters that they aren't made up anymore. What I'm writing isn't fiction and it makes it a lot harder for me to omit things or change things around. I named the main character of this current book Adelaide, and whilst I'm not in love with it, I can't change it because she IS Adelaide now. I can't change a coworkers name because I don't like it anymore. That's not the way this works.

I don't know if this makes me a mental patient or a perfectionist or what, but I find myself rereading old material and saying, "Isaac doesn't talk like that!" and "Addie would never think that." Actors talk about their love of acting stemming from the fact that they get to disappear into someone else's world and someone else's mind. That's how I feel when I write. I stop concerning myself with the immediate and get lost in the fictional world I've created. (And I want to do this forever.)

I can only hope the mass public feels the same way about Addie and Isaac when the time comes.

Thursday, August 25

My Obsessions

I am an obsessive person. For as long as I can remember I've been obsessed with something. Being in a current state of nostalgia and hobbylessness, I figure I might as well chronicle them.

1. Jump5
The most infamous of all my obsessions. From April 14th 2003 - 2007 I was in love. I knew everything about the five (then four, then five, then four) members. Everything. I got my hair cut like them, I bought clothes that looked like theirs - and yes I realize how creepy this makes me sound. Wowza. Still, being as this was during my formative years a lot of what I saw them doing/saying impressed itself into my brain and I hold Brittany Hargest and Lesley Moore fully responsible for my love of fashion.

2. ...Twilight
I hate to say it. I really hate it, but it's true. I was introduced to the series by an over the top fan which naturally only increased my infatuation. I would also like to note that this was strictly a love of the books, as it was during the summer that they were filming the first movie, so it was completely unadulterated. We even went to the midnight book release for Breaking Dawn. Wow. Memories.

3. Pop Culture
Possibly my biggest regret. There is no reason to know that much about anybody I don't actually know. The obsession was instantly destroyed upon hearing the following words from my sister's father-in-law: "they do not care when I go to Starbucks, so why on Earth should I care when they do?"

4. Harry Potter
This has has been a very slow start. At first I was like, "Oh, I guess I'll go see the movie..." when my friend needed a compadre. Surprisingly I liked it so much I bought it. Then, awhile later whilst bored at work one day I decided to start reading the books. I have not reached my Twilight / Jump5 craze yet at all, thank goodness. My obsessions seem to be less intense each time a new one strikes.

Since HP is over, though...I think the fashion bug is biting. I'm really starting to get excited about bags and shirts and shoes. And preparing my outfits for this upcoming trip is really making me insane. I'm up all hours of the night scoping out new outfits. I have filled wishlists on several websites, and an open polyvore account.  It's definitely safe to say an obsession is forming...

Wednesday, August 24

Things That Irritate Me

    I'm sitting here in my brand new The Mighty Thor tank top with my brand new union jack heart ring on my finger. Today has been a great day - materialistically, anyway. Nevertheless, aside from working and shopping today has been less than thrilling (as always) so I thought I'd construct a list of things that drive me insane. Here they lie:

1. People who take offense to things regarding people with  special needs, especially when it comes to the movie The Ringer and the word 'retard'. That word means something beyond the handicap realm, and people need to remember this. Also, I can't stand when someone causes a stir because their second cousin's best friend's lab partner's boss's nephew's neighbor has ADHD. This does not make you credible. At all.

2. Interrupting. People who interrupt should be shunned by society. It's just rude.

3. Being rude to animals. I don't mean the basic animal cruelty, but actual dog owners who scream at their dogs and shove them and kick them and stuff. I once saw some of my sister's friends call the family dog into the house just to slam the door in his side when he entered. I have never detested the being of a person more than when I saw that go down.

4. Not being allowed to not smile. I may be having a generally crappy day - my dog may have just died, or, you know, there may be so much going on in my life that constantly remembering to smile might be pretty low down on my priority list. So stop yelling at me about it. On the same note: the ever-expectant exchanging of pleasantries. They are generally pointless and shallow. No one who genuinely cares about your life is going to ask "what's up?!" or "hows it going?!"

5. Hitting every green light. It hikes my paranoia sky high and I'm convinced I'm going to get hit as I blast through each intersection.

6. People who get offended. By anything. Get over yourself and stop being so sensitive. It was not written in the constitution that everyone must be nice to you. Some people won't. Get over it.

7. Using swear words to amplify your sentiments. Your vocabulary is really that limited?

8. People who are glorified for doing mediocre things. Especially when this praise and glory goes to their heads and causes them to think that what they're doing is exceptional. My biggest bothers in this regard are when it comes to literary prowess and 'solo travel'. (It is not considered 'traveling on your own' if you're meeting someone at your destination. Getting yourself to an airport is not profound nor is it brave.)

9. Patriotism. I totally get having national pride and all that, but patriotism has become a vulgar word in my vocabulary as Americans seem to have taken it too far. We do not need to exonerate ourselves for simple acts. We are in so many respects not, in fact, number 1. We're just making ourselves look foolish by painting our faces red, white, and blue and screaming it at foreigners. (Speaking of which, have you ever noticed how many countries have those three colors? Loads of them! France, UK, Australia, New Zealand, etc. etc.)

...I tried to do more, but I can't think of any. I guess that's a good thing? Sorry if one of your annoyances is People Who Don't Finish Lists. Oh well.

Tuesday, August 23

I keep trying to write a fun post about how I got a Kindle, or how there are only 18 more days until our vacation, or even about the hilarious CPR Training class I took this morning, but all I can think about is how MINDBLOWINGLY PAINFUL my seven hour-long stomach ache is/has been. I can barely breathe without sharp shooting pain, I can't walk that far, and I just want to lay in the fetal position until I lull myself to sleep.

Oh, did I mention I'm at work?

Monday, August 22

"World Traveller"

My shtick ever since I graduated High School has been traveling. I work to make enough money to go places - that's it. Last year I went on a trip every two-three months. This year I will have only gone on two trips. TWO! I feel like I can no longer classify myself as a traveller, as there are regular people who take two vacations per year and don't identify themselves by it. 

I'm itching to go somewhere. I'm not even picky about where. If I was handed a plane ticket tomorrow, I'd be gone. I tried writing out a list of all the places I wish to go, but it started to look like just a list of every  country in the world so I gave up. A simpler list would be "The World sans Mexico".

Next year will be filled with adventures. This I can guarantee. 

Sunday, August 21


I spent an enormous amount of time with Beth today. Mom and Dad were out with friends, so after church we came home and had lunch. She sat at the table with me which is a pretty big deal, and afterward we started playing Uno. We were talking about menial things as I was shuffling and I quickly put my hair in a braid just to get it out of my face. She looked at me for a minute before saying,"I can do them." I didn't have to ask for clarification before she pointed to my hair and said "I can do braids. Better." So she scooted out her chair, marched over to the back of mine, and started braiding. It turned out a lot better than I expected but my hair was still falling all over my face. She seemed quite proud though so I left it in.

After the three longest games of Uno I probably have ever played ever, I convinced her to walk to the store with me. On the way, she complained about pain so I made a detour to Starbucks for some smoothies. She was quite appeased. As we were walking back we spotted a big ol' patch of blackberry bushes. Needless to say, blackberry cobbler has been harvested, cooked, and eaten in the past few hours.  And that has been my incredibly boring, unthought-provoking day.

</This has a been a [pointless] post>

Saturday, August 20

I have officially been awake for 25.5 hours, guys.

This is not a personal record by far (it currently stands at a tie for 72 hours in Australia and 72 in France.) However, this is the first time that I've:

A.) Decided, at four in the morning, to do a load of aerobics videos.
B.) Been at work for a nine hour shift

Seriously. I would be able to handle this if it weren't for that darn medicine. I don't know why I didn't think to pay any mind to the 'MAY CAUSE DROWSINESS' bold print on the side of the bottle. C'mon Diana - get your head in the game! You see, I'm sort of a nut job, and as a result I can't have caffine. CAFFINE. That chemical that wakes you up and keeps you agile for the day! I can't consume it!

So I was sitting at this desk trying my hardest not to nod off when one of the managers hands me a Red Bull. So what do I do in my state of near-unconciousness? I DRINK IT. As a result I have felt like the love child of Animal (from the Muppets) and the Energizer Bunny. I may very well physically combust like you see in the cartoons. My head may just explode clean off. But hey, at least I'm being 1,000x more productive than usual. Is this what cocaine feels like?

Friday, August 19


I really miss the days when summer was synonymous with freedom. Back when it meant there were no responsibilites except attaining the perfect tan. Before I started working seven days a week (it's been two years now. Two solid years.) I used to lay out in the sun all day, wear denim shorts, and go on little adventures. None of those things are possible anymore. I remember one time my friends and I were driving around trying to think of something to do when all of a sudden one of us said, "Let's go to Leavenworth!" and off we went.

I suppose I just thought adulthood was supposed to be more freeing than it is. And I don't even have a lot of responsibilities. When I was in High School I yearned for the freedom that came with being an adult. Now that I'm technically an adult I'm realizing these aren't the freedoms I anticipated.

I just want to be able to act on my whims. I want to be able to think about NY and fly there that night. I don't want restrictions. I never liked them much.

Thursday, August 18


        I love finding out how people perceive my life. Usually it's completely off base and entirely ludicrous. When I was younger I used to imagine a different life where everything was perfect, and I think most people imagine other people have perfect lives. No one really looks at a functioning member of society and goes, "I bet they had a rough childhood" or "he must suffer from a slew of psychological disorders". No - the grass is always greener; the house always has a white picket fence. 
       I love seeing my peers' and coworkers' reactions when I tell them a vital tidbit about me. When they found out I spent two weeks as a missionary at an orphanage in Mexico when I was six years old, they always seem sympathetic as if it was a mentally scarring incident. When they find out I'm smart - that really seems to blow their minds. Most of all, of course, is when they find out about Beth. I suppose having her as a sister really erases all misconceptions of my imaginary perfect life. 
        Isn't it interesting though, that when you finally do learn all of the pieces of someone's life, it makes sense. Their personality and their lifestyle are completely understandable when you see where they've actually been and not where you think they came from. Every time I give someone a new piece of my history, it's always an epiphany. 
        Of course this leads me to wonder where I would be if I had that pretend perfect life. How naive would I have been during High School? How selfish would I be if I had truly been the youngest? How close minded without the mission trips? How patriotic? How driven? How different

Wednesday, August 17


I love Disneyland. I have been infatuated with it for awhile now. One of my life goals is to 'be friends with' Rapunzel. She's the first Disney princess whom I resemble quite closely, and when she was inducted into the Princess family, I started getting excited.

Before all of that, though, I've just loved the place. The damp air that washes over you as you enter Pirates of the Caribbean, the copious amounts of churro stands, the quirky signs posted along the line for Splash Mountain, the roar of the Abominable Snowman in Matterhorn, traveling through the Disney resort on the monorail, the exit-gate hand stamps that never seem to wash off, the attraction posters in the train tunnels, the screams and howls you hear as you pass Haunted Mansion, the strictly edible plant life in and around Tomorrowland attractions, the hidden ATM in Adventureland, sneaking your way from inside the Main Street shops to Adventureland, the record-holding diorama of the Grand Canyon on the train ride, line wait times that never seems to last that long, the enthusiastic boat riders who sing along to It's a Small World, "driving" the Indian Jones car, extra extra EXTRA long Matterhorn seat belts, seeing unexpected face characters during the off season, the different trash cans in each Land, passing above Splash Mountain on the train, line tenders calling for a group of your exact size, Chewbacca in the Star Tours instructional video, the fruit stand right in the middle of Main Street, the bird calls from the Tiki Room, the lamplight left on in fire station, the hoof prints in the asphalt, Dole whips, the witty script of the Jungle Cruise guides, getting sunburns but being too caught up to even realize, the giant snake head at the entrance of Indiana Jones, spending obscene amounts of money for the souvenir photos just because, the whistling prisoner on Pirates, the song the bunnies sing right before the giant descend on Splash Mountain, the view of the castle from the top of Thunder Mountain, stroller parking in New Orleans Square, hidden Club 33, teenagers - and adults - shirking their dignity and having a ball in Toon Town, running into Main Street shops just to stay cool, Disneyland ice cream, the splinter-proof railing at Thunder Mountain. And above all: absolutely, completely, and whole heartedly giving in to the magic of Disney.

Tuesday, August 16


    I hope you make the best of it. And I hope you see things that startle you. I hope you feel things you never felt before. I hope you meet people with a different point of view. I hope you live a life you're proud of. If you find that you're not, I hope you have the strength to start all over again. 
- The Curious Case of Benjamin Button   

            I've been contemplating the idea of faking one's own death. Not meaning I want to fake my own, but the overall idea is quite intriguing if you think about it. (It's actually the topic of a book I've considered writing for awhile now.)
            Lets think about it: you get out of all the crappy parts of your life without the burned bridges and bad feelings. Granted, everyone you're associated with will no longer be in your life anymore, but hey, you'll finally get to see who comes to your funeral.
       For a person with my personality - one who hates being disliked or hated no matter what the personal consequences - it's the ideal situation when it comes to trying to leave a job. When I really despised one of my jobs, I formulated an entire situation in which I would fall down the stairs whilst "on my way". I had the entire episode panned out. I honestly believe the only reason I didn't go through with it was because my Mom works there also, so that would provide for some awkward conversations for her come Monday. 
      Above all, I just really like the idea of starting over. I would like to wipe the slate clean and begin again. Unfortunately, our world basically forbids such things. You can't quit your job and hope to get a new one without putting the former on your resume. You can't erase your bills and get away scotch free. You can't really start over, can you? Your baggage and your history will follow you everywhere. I guess the best we can hope for is that we learn to grow from it. We stop learning to define ourselves by what happened to us and instead by what we did about it. Only then can we really change our situation.

Monday, August 15


     Today it seems people are hearing my thoughts. Those thoughts that I have kept to myself for specific reasons. I watch too much media, so when people do things that coincide with my thought process, I immediately think of What Women Want and Charles Xavier. So naturally I've felt quite guilty all day as a result.
      In other news my car died today. Over the past few years I've been torn financially between saving for a trip or saving for a car - with the former winning out every time. Now I suppose it's time to start saving for a new car. Since Winter 2008 - when I really got into Top Gear - I've been dying to get my hands on a Fiat 500, and they have finally arrived in the US. Alas, they are ~$17,000 which is about $16,800 more than I have saved up. Plus, these of course are not the exact European models, so the kinks still need to be worked out SO I'm considering buying a half-way car and waiting for future kink-free models.
     BUT I'm not the best at saving and I would quite like to go to South Africa, so...?

Sunday, August 14


This may sound absurd, but this fan made video has really impacted me creatively. The low view count on this bad boy does not justify it's awesomeness. This music video just blows my mind.

After seeing this, and seeing some other fun music videos people on YouTube have made, I really feel like actually trying to make mine amazing. Not just the one I'm working on, but all my future ideas. I'm starting to realize there's no point to only putting in half an effort, because really that's still failure. I'd rather strive for perfection than settle for less then out of fear of not achieving success. Clearly only giving 70% hasn't done me a world of good. It hasn't hurt me, but it's not helping me, so really what's the point? Failures are flyers who touched down, but they still know what it's like to leave the ground.  

& if we never make it ever, then it's gonna be okay with me
'Cause if it's not okay to fall sometimes, it's not okay to be

Saturday, August 13


This is just a post of that which inspires me right now. Enjoy. 
(p.s. Yes I realize most of these are from Tumblr. IDC)

Thursday, August 11

Summer Bummer

I've given up on summer. As said previously,  it will only exist for me outside of Washington state. Whatevs.

One of my coworkers has a saying: "If you're not on a trip, you're planning one." This is my life mantra. Despite not even having been on this upcoming trip, I'm already beginning to contemplate my next one. I'm really uncomfortable with the idea of going to the same place time and time again as I feel like I'm not growing. I want my world to be limitless and that's not really achievable if I
     Anyway, I'm really ready for Christmas. I can only assume the bug bit so early because of our pathetic summer. (I would like to emphasize the pathetic. It's pa-the-t-ic.) I really want to see London covered in snow. Of course I have a bit of a problem going to London twice in one year. It seems whenever I tell people I've gone to London twice, they seem almost disappointed. I'm really trying not to care, but I still do, so there's that. The thing is, with London, I feel like it's my second home. I hate leaving. I feel completely comfortable when I'm there. Naturally I want to see it during every season. I want to go shopping on Oxford Street during their Christmas sales and see Harrods decorated with Christmas trees. I want to wear peacoats and watch the Christmas episodes of all my favorite shows. I want to drown in it. (& it doesn't hurt that UK has THE BEST Christmas music around.)
       For some unexplainable, hypocritical reason I am also super tempted to go back to Paris. I'm really irritated with all the publicity Paris gets when it's not really that fantastic. I mean, people are obsessed and I didn't find it all that fascinating. Hopefully going into it with a clear idea of what's going on will make me appreciate it more? I don't know, but I think giving it a shot on a full stomach and a decent night's sleep may be in order. That, and I love French architecture. If it snowed in Nice I would probably go there as I just freaking love that place. I always want to mark off some things in my 2001 Things to Do Before You Die book like "Write poetry in a Parisian cafe" and "Spit off the Eiffel Tower". You know, classy stuff.
        Finally - less importantly - I want to go back to NYC. During Christmas, of course. I want to see Rockefeller center and the fashion district and have a treat at Serendipity. Honestly, as I type this out I only really want to stop over in New York. The city terrifies me. Most large US cities do (aside from Seattle. During the daytime.) Also, I want to see a Disney park all gussied up in it's Christmas magicness.

I guess I just really want it to be Christmas.

Wednesday, August 10

California Dreaming

       I'm surprising myself lately. I'm more concentrated on my life at each present moment and it's helping my productivity. That doesn't diminish the amount of the things still on my to-do list, but we're making progress.
       I'm starting to get enormously excited for the big vacation. I'm tired of working and being dependable. I have been spoiled with that day off on Sunday and now I crave freedom. The vast open road. The limitless plans. The sun. The pool. The last time I remember being warm was in Australia. That was in November. The temperatures have only risen above 80F about thrice this summer, and I bet all three of those days were Saturdays. Being a naturally frozen person, I yearn for the sun and warmth and  tanks and sunburns and flip flops and sunglasses. I'm predicting my summer will last approximately two weeks: September 10th - September 23rd.
       I'm quite curious about this trip as it will be the first one in a while that I am not taking by myself. For the most part there is a rough schedule I have to adhere to. If I don't feel like driving to California that day, I really don't have an option. If I want to walk for ten miles I probably won't be able to. Despite being "without responsibility" I'm wondering how much freedom I will actually be able to claim. On our last family vacation we had a 'relaxing' day where we stayed at the hotel the entire time. Yeah...I started going crazy. When I was in Europe, I was eating chocolate cake for dinner (and breakfast) and still losing weight because of all the explorations I went on. I want to be able to do that with this trip.                
     The cohesion of Diana's Vacations and The Family Vacation are going to be a very interesting design. And just think of all the pictures we will bring back to illustrate it!

Tuesday, August 9

society, you're a crazy breed

        I've been working on a video I've had up my sleeve for the past two days now. I didn't go to sleep last night, and I just ran to the forest to shoot some missing pieces. I'm ready to be done with it, but I'm really excited that I'm making it perfect, too. I feel like I have a sense of direction right now and thus feel electrified. Last night, for example, I was much too wired to go to sleep. Even making the attempt at five this morning, I was only able to turn my mind off for about an hour.
       This new found passion coupled with the current events in London had me walking around all day today contemplating the mundane lifestyle I fixed up for myself. My job gives me the opportunity to observe a world of people seemingly completely oblivious to adversity. I listen to rants over the most absurd things. I console people for the most ridiculous of reasons.  As is the way of the customer service entry level positions - but today I was not having it.
        I sometimes wish I was as brave and free as Christopher Mccandless. To just be able to shirk all responsibilities, social norms, and material possessions and venture off into the unknown. I suppose metaphorically that is exactly what I'd like to do. I constantly talk about moving to London and doing who knows what, but I'm still very much so in the mindset that I'm fourteen and still too young to move across the world all by my lonesome. Lately, though, I wonder if I'm even meant for the first world at all.

Sunday, August 7

Saturday, August 6


You know the scariest part about having an enormous potential?

Reaching it.

What if I reach my goal weight and am super ugly? What if I go to UCLA Film and don't get a job after graduation? What if I write the book, get it published, and only three people read it?

Such thoughts have been plaguing me. Charlie Brown put it best, "There is no heavier burden than great potential." Poor lad was right. The higher the pedestal, the farther the fall. Cliche cliche, blah blah. My mind is slowly wrapping itself around the fact that even if I am hideous ugly as a skinny person, or I don't get a job in the film industry, it's okay. That's the point when I move on to find a new dream. (Although the whole being ugly thing wouldn't be that easy to swallow.)

I'm still in the deranged mindset that I can do anything I want to - that I'm capable of anything. I don't think I ever want to let that go, but it's a bit of a blow to the system when I fail. It's a big blow, actually, seeing as I'm supposed to be omnipotent. Isn't it a bit weird that we spend our adolescence learning about the world, and only on the brink of adulthood do we start learning about ourselves?

On the plus side, I have discovered a superpower I possess: I can put children to sleep. Have a crying baby? I'll take care of that. Johnny won't go down for a nap? Give him here. I'm magical!

Friday, August 5

shut up & drive

Wow. Only Day Two and I'm already almost crumbling? Pathetic.

I keep thinking about those old Volkswagen commercials where the guy works all these weird, odd jobs to earn enough money to buy his Jetta. I think about those and I wonder what it's like to have drive. I wish I had it. I wish it didn't take me over a year to write a book or a journey through the mental olympics just to make decisions. I wish I could just say I want something and obtain it.

I think I find it all so depressing because I used to be that way. I wanted my favorite ice cream flavor to mirror that of a celebrity I loved so I convinced myself that the flavor I once loved was no longer my favorite. When there was a shirt at a store far away, I'd convince my parents to take me there so I could get it. When I found something I wanted, I was easily able to talk my way into achieving it.

I think I got too comfortable. I think it's easy to fall into the "Oh I was going to do that, but..." Darn those 'But...'s. They're bad news and they're bringing me down. I don't have a lot of time to accomplish things anymore, so if I want to do all these things I won't shut up about, it's time I get some drive back. It's time to kick it in to high gear. (Why so many car metaphors?)

Thursday, August 4

I hate answering phones

I realize it's August 4th already, but I'm going to start Blog Every Day August anyway. It's high time I accomplish something, and BEDA it shall be. So here goes:

As it stands right now I have been at work for the past six hours. Whilst this doesn't seem like a long time, I have been filing quite literally 800 of identical-looking pages since 9AM this morning. I have been staring at the exact same spot of these identical pages (looking for three little numbers that distinguish them from the rest of the pack) for the past five hours. FIVE HOURS. I'm at the point right now where if I don't stop and do something different and get out of my chair and stop answering the phone I'm going to go stir crazy.

So, let the stir crazy commence.

When I work long days like this I often find myself going glossy-eyed and letting my mind go somewhere else entirely. Just a second ago I caught myself flipping a book of Post-its and imagining a meadow with dragonflies buzzing about and wildflowers and daisies and sundresses and a gentle breeze. And then the song changes on the playlist and I realize I'm at my work desk and the boss is looking at me funny.

I just counted and I have four paper cuts from the past five hours. And one of them is a gusher. (Still doesn't beat my record from Winter O' Death 2010 though.)

You know what's weird? I'm different when I'm not in Seattle. In Seattle I'm blindingly self conscious and terrified all the time and I never feel like I'm good enough. When I was in Paris I was brave - and I don't mean simply the fact that I was in my Paris all by my-non-French-speaking-self. I went on a rollercoaster I wouldn't dare go on here. I took shortcuts through creepy shaded parks at all hours of the night. I talked openly with strangers (in London and Nice, anyway), I walked right past police arrests and didn't bat an eye, I got in the way to get what I wanted. I took risks - there's no other way to put it. When I'm away from Seattle I'm a stranger - I'm completely unrecognizable. So it's no wonder that people are shocked that I travel alone, because here I don't dare cross the street unless the light permits me.

When I was younger and we would travel to San Diego the same thing would occur on a lesser scale. I think that's part of the reason I love going down there so much - I get a break from being myself. Lately with my daily crippling anxiety attacks and the various holes I've dug myself into, I could really use a break from being me.

You know what inappropriate? Middle aged women in braided pigtails. Come on now...

Thursday, July 28

Great Expectations

       I've really been struggling lately with living my life by certain terms. There are people I work with who continiously tell me they live vicariously through me whenever I travel. Whenever I see them their faces light up when they ask "Where are you going next?" They tell me they wish they had lived this way when they were my age. My peers praise me for my courage and bravery, and it's my parents' bragging right.
      But I don't like travelling by myself. I hate it, actually. My dad can attest to the fact that whenever he drops me off at the airport, I'm incospiciously begging him to let me off the hook. And while I've been preached to numerous times recently by the aforementioned people about how I should live my life the way I want and not worry about what other people think about it, I never believed any of them until I spoke with a friend who actually lives that way.
      So now the question remains: what do I want to do? I can tell you a few things I don't want to do: I don't want to go to Asia. I don't want to go to South Africa alone. I don't want to spend all that money and time on a cruise to Antarctica without even knowing if I like cruises. What I want is to go to Disneyworld. I want to visit the Wizarding World of Harry Potter and I want to see London covered in snow on my birthday. I want to make music videos and movie trailers and I want to write stories that stir something in people.
       I want to have a YouTube channel and not worry about people I know IRL teasing me for it. I want to eat the cookie and not worry about caloric content (that one will take time) and I don't want to answer phone calls for a living. I want to be proud of the work I do. I don't want carpel tunnel and if I must have it I want to aquire it writing the next Chronicles of Narnia, not stuffing envelopes. I want to quit wasting away my time in a mediocre life waiting around for the extraordinary one to come.
      Steve Jobs once said, "Every morning I look in the mirror and I ask myself, if today was my last day on Earth, would I want to spend it the way I intend to spend today? If the answer is 'no' too many days in a row, I know something needs to change". Well, then it looks like it's time for a change.

Friday, July 22

Stupid Girls

       It's starting to dawn on me how vapid people think I am. At work and socially I find people are explaining the simplest of terms or experiences to me. Despite what I contribute to the conversation, I'm always the one people dumb things down for. This, of course, got me thinking.   
         I'm bottle blond, sure. I really like clothes - whatever. But does this automatically qualify me as a bimbo? At what point does a girl go from being bright to being an idiot? I'm wondering in measures of physicality (which I do consider a direct relation.) It seems that when a girl is a girl she is free to believe and aspire to whatever she wishes. She could be a scientist! She could be an astronaut! But slap some lipgloss and a bra on her and she's suddenly Malibu Barbie - and the closest she could ever get to a PHd is the lab coat in her closet. 
      I was born last and so I never got away with a childhood, I feel. When I would ask my Dad to listen to Radio Disney on long drives he would turn on Dr. Laura instead. I was learning a wider vocabulary and How To Deal With Your Mother-in-Law Moving In while most of my friends were jamming to NSYNC. Constantly spending time with a Grandmother with a genius-range IQ didn't really allow for me to enjoy ignorance either.
     Alas, because of the absolute misconception people apparently get when they look at me, I feel the need to walk around with copies of my resume and hand them to people who try to strike up conversation. "What's that? Yes, I have heard of 'humidity'. Experienced it, actually. See there? Been to New York City. During the summer months, no less." "I do know what sunburns are, as a matter of fact. I got a second degree sunburn in the tropics of Australia. Yes, I know how serious second degree sunburns are..."
      I know, what exaggerations. But yesterday someone asked me about San Fransisco and when I told him that I had spent a few weeks remodelling a children's school and working at a soup kitchen and spending a few days sightseeing, he took this to mean: 'No I've never been there; please tell me an in depth history of the city and where to best experience the sights'. C'mon people!
     I'll be honest: sometimes I give in to it. Nay - frequently I give in to it. It's easier to stand there and let people think a misconception than continuously prove them wrong. Let me tell you though, the girl who almost skipped two grades is not the one who needs a lecture on How To Heat Up Your Cappuccino If It Gets Cold.

But thanks.

Saturday, July 16

Hello dear blogosphere,

     You have recruited another. I am quite excited for our future endeavors. There are a few things I ought to note before our relationship blossoms: Firstly I am very inconsistent. I cannot make promises about being up until 3AM typing up a post. I can't promise I'll update daily. I can't even promise weekly posts.
     What I can promise is passion. And thoughtfulness. Will there at times be absurdities and questionable statistics? Yes, there definitely will be. Will they be coupled with interesting topics and sub-par grammar? You betcha.
    My life is boring - this is certain. My mind, however, is just the opposite. Luckily for you, my mind and my thoughts are what will undoubtly fill this blog. I hope you're in for quite a ride.
     Until next time: peaches.