Thursday, July 12, 2012

Fonts

I just realized why I chose the fonts for the blog title and post titles. The blog title's font is almost exactly like my actual handwriting and the post titles' fonts look like my handwriting when I work hard to make it neater. Thats really cool. I'm such an idiot for not noticing sooner. sigh. ")

Favorites II

It's very obvious when someone has favorites. Take this one teacher who will be going by Squirrel. I think Cute Like Minnie Mouse might be one of his favorites, but Blonde Crust and Former Broccoli Head obviously are not. Blonde Crust was falling from the playground so she screamed like any decent human being and said sh** by accident. Of course guess who is standing right there to witness the whole thing? Squirrel. Go figure! So Squirrel moves away from his position on recess duty and starts walking in our direction. In any normal circumstance Squirrel would ask if the kid was alright and tell them either to go to the nurses office or be more careful depending on what the response was. But this isn't any normal circumstance, this is Blonde Crust. So Squirrel  asks her "politely" to "please go and sit by the office for the rest of recess while I decide your punishment" or something like that. So everyone just looks at him. And looks at him. And looks at him some more. Finally Blonde Crust says one word "Why?". I mean really. The poor girl (I use that term loosely) just fell from four feet up and you're going to punish her! It's ludicrous! And you wanna know what his reason for punishing her was? Because she cursed. Because she cursed WHILE FALLING FROM FOUR FEET UP!!!! And at least five kids walked right in front of Squirrel while cursing every two breathes! Talk about favorites.


And as for Broccoli Head (the former part is just too annoying), she and Blonde Crust usually end up missing recesses together almost three time a week because of something stupid like that. It could be "oh, you guys are late by one minute because your class ended later then usual, you're punished," or "you are not allowed to giggle or laugh while playing a game of dodge ball/soccer/etc., you're punished". Fifteen million other kids could do the same thing, same day, during the same class, but only Blonde Crust and Broccoli Head would "be punished". It's so stupid. 


You know what? I'm publishing this in pink. Maybe it will help lift the spirits of Blonde Crust and Broccoli Head. (Probably mostly Broccoli Head but whatever). KTSM!!!!!

Puppets

My first memory was my four year old birthday party. We'd invited all of the kids in my nursery class to come over to my house and make puppets. There were a gazillion new brown paper bags, fifty-nine new glue bottle and glue sticks, and five huge tubs of foam shapes for the eyes, noses, and mouths. All of the supplies were laid out along a long table, and we were supposed to walk in a line next to the table, grab what we needed, and disperse to go somewhere and create a paper bag puppet. Now keep in mind that we were three and four year old kids, so of course the line was a mess. Kids were fussing over which glue bottle/stick worked best, and figuring out which shapes and colors they wanted. Then there were kids behind those kids, pushing and shoving and cutting line while complaining that the people in front of them were taking too long. But once they left the line the trouble didn't stop. Glue spread like a terrible and contagious disease. It got all over everyones hands and clothes and hair. Some kids used too much glue and ripped holes in their paper bags. There were quite a couple melt downs. And at cakes time, the unmentionable happened (though that doesn't mean I wont mention it).

Someone got icing on my puppet.

MY puppet. My ever resilient and strong paper bag puppet, brought down by a spoonful of icing lobbed from across the table. It was horrific. My mom tried her best to scrape it all off, but in the end my fallen warrior could not be salvaged. I was forced to let go of him and make a new one. Many tears were shed...

But I got over it.

I don't know why but for some reason, my early memories are very important to me. It's sometimes comforting to know that there's more to my life then right this minute. There was a before, and there will be an after. Even if I'm still stuck in the now.

Ouch

Omigosh I hurt sooooooooooo bad right now. You have no idea. So the day before yesterday was the first day of summer dance class. Of course I was an idiot and haven't stretched for almost two months, but then again I wasn't the only one. Still, I should have, because as per usual, the first class was a (drum roll please) stretch class. So we had to do all sorts of stretches (right splits, left splits, straddle split, straddle split planks, etc.) and due to my idiotic mistake of NOT stretching for ages, I now feel like a walking bruise. I'm sooooo sore! I was going to use tiger balm but I couldn't remember where my mom kept it so I gave up that idea and went with the traditional ice and rest. Yet even two days later I'm hurting just as bad if not more!!! Gosh I'm tired.

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Music

It's really important to me. Heck it's important to most of the kids I know! But I have a slight problem. I like to sing. And I'm not that great. And if I accidentally start singing at all I'm told to be quiet. At first when my mom told me to stop singing and be quiet I always thought it was because she was busy a) concentrating on the road while driving, b) concentrating on her photos while she used photoshop, or c) just needed some time to think before she had to start doing either of the above. But after a bit I realized that she just didn't want to hear my voice. Even if I talk in her company, she has to take over the conversation and keep my voice out of it. So now I do my best to try and keep my mouth shut. It's really hard. I'm the kind of person that needs to voice her thoughts and opinions. But most of the time I bite the side of my mouth and tell myself to shut up. It's been about three years since I made this decision and I still can't do it perfectly. But I'm doing better...I think.

As for my father, he is almost never home. If he is he's working from home, sleeping, biking with his friends, running with his friends, on the couch sleeping with a biking or running injury, or urging me and the boys to join him while he runs/bikes solo. This leaves me next to no time to even talk to him, so really I just try and keep things simple. My philosophy is that if I don't start, then no problems will arise. Basically, as long as I don't sing or hum or dance from one place to the other when he's home, then I wont have the same problem that I have with my mother, with my father.

But aside from my parents there's my friends. They're understanding for sure, or at least sympathetic. They listen to me vent to them and they're always there, but I'm always to embarrassed to just sing in front of them. I consider them to be almost family, but that the thing, they're only almost family. So it's different. I mean I don't mind singing for the school play or school talent show, that's different. I only do the talent show thing so my mother will let me choreograph a dance number with some of the kids in my class, and when you're onstage in front of an audience, you can ignore the people and pretend you're actually that character. You can lose yourself in the acting and sing. For me it's easier like that. But when I sing in real life, in front of people I can see and I know, it's me singing. Just me. And it's that rawness that scares me. So I try not to. I used to sing in front of my closest and bestest friend (no names here), but she always got so annoyed by it and treated me the way my mom did so after awhile I stopped that to.

But because of all this, all this trying not to sing or hum or dance from place to place (even in math class), My head is always so full. It's like there's five different radios playing at the same time, all tuned to different music stations, with all the different songs and lyrics becoming a huge jumbled up mess, so that when I do hear something, like my mother giving me directions, I often forget it almost immediately. It's really sad actually. When I was eleven, I used to try talking to my self in the mirror or singing in my room, but it always made me cry and feel pathetic.

I actually have no clue why I wrote all this. I guess it's just kinda nice to know that I have a place where I can just be me where anyone can see it only if they want. It's like giving people a choice, like saying "this is me but if you don't want to know about it just close this window and find something else to do" ya know? I think this is good for me.

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Power

so last night the power went out. It was weird. We had just gotten home from the beach and we didn't know when the electricity went kaput so I texted a few friend who lived nearby to see if they lived on my grid and if they knew when the power went out. So the friend who lives closest (i wont reviel her name. I'm not sure how she'd react) texted me bak and this is how our convo went:

ME: hey i wanted to no if any of u had electricity and if u no about wat time the lights went out. we just got bak home We were at the beach and saw lightening so we left. txt me bak soon Maya

oh yeah lol we still hav ekectric hbu? :HER

ME: nope nada nothin power dead o well

ohh snap we almost lost it buttt we didnt :HER

ME: lucky bum


I'm sooooooo weird

Codes

Hey
If you're a friend but you wanna comment or follow anonymously then email me and we can come up with some sorta symbol so that we know who's who. Wasn't my idea but it's smart. So deal. ")

Random

So I was editing my profile and answering the random question but when I tried to save my response but it said it was to long! But I thought it was funny so here it is:

You get to ride the big roller coaster three times in a row. What will keep your dad from taking a bite out of your candy apple?


Nothing. He wouldn't take a bite to begin with 'cause he's too nice and is always worried about his health because he wants to stay fit for when he recovers from his biking injury and can race again. Plus, why would I even have a candy apple? If I'm at a theme park with roller coasters, I RIDE THE DUMB ROLLER COASTERS!! I don't sit around and eat! Come to think of it...The only ways to get my mind off of food is to ride roller coasters, read, or sleep. I'm such a pig. ")

Wowee. Who knew that for a random question you had to use four hundred characters? I guess I could just write gibberish but what’s the fun in that? It'snot. Hahahaha. Get it? ITS SNOT!! Haha! No. You don't get it. You're just laughing 'cause you think that's inappropriate and cute in a little kid way. But a cow ate it with my brothers. And you don't get that either because a cow ate THAT with my friends Nora, Ashley, and Juliet! You know what? Go to some other persons profile and eat a cow. And if you're an internet stalker, child molester, or doing something sick and illegal, go die in a hole. Or turn yourself in at least. (little bow) Thank you. (where's the applause?)

Reading

Hey I just realized something. The neon colors are kinda hard to read aren't they? If you can't read them, just highlight them with your mouse and read it that way. Sorry. ") I kinda like my colors...

My Parents

They are way lucky. Both of them have interesting lives and have a cool love story. So far, my life has been a whole lot of little things floating in...well, BLAH is the only way I can think of describing it. This sort of neutral color that has the consistency of old pudding that was left in the fridge a little too long. It's weird though, because when I kept a journal of all my thoughts and feelings in third grade, and then shared them with my friends in fourth, they all said that I must have had a pretty interesting life. None of them realized that my journal was filled with events that they caused or participated in, and that the only reason they were interesting was because I think weirdly. But I guess that my life is pretty interesting in the larger scheme of things because after a while, all those little things floating in the blah add up to one big interesting part of my life. It's cool 'cause it makes no sense whatsoever, yet it does in my brain. It'c cool.


I just finished breakfast. it was some chicken primavera stuff from a can. While I was eating I noticed that all of the chicken pieces were little cubes of chicken breast and looked so artificial. It was kinda sad. You wanna know what's sadder then that? People who go to the store, buy fifteen million chicken drumsticks, and expect someone else to eat the rest of the chickens whose legs they just bought. Also what's sad is when people think it's disgusting and revolting and a disgrace when some one DOES actually eat the rest of an animal. Like when people first find out that I eat tripe or chicken heart or blood cake or liver or fish eyes or chicken feet or anything else good that you find at the Asian Food Market (seaweed, little packets of little fish, pig ears), and they always make this face that says "I am completely grossed out by you and I don't want to be your friend ever and I hope I don't have to interact with you ever again and I think I'm gonna barf and I don't want you near my family and I think you should be sent to a mental hospital and I'm not gonna give you a chance to say anything else but I'm gonna try to hide this face from you so that your feelings don't get hurt not that I care". It last for about two seconds, then they excuse themselves politely and get as far away as possible. People are so narrow minded. So due to this, most of my friends are guys, girls who act like guys, girls who aren't scare by grossness, and girls I've known since third grade and younger. Little kids aren't as judgmental. 


I mean, except for this one kid Heather in like third grade at my school. She is prejudice. One time, this really nice girl Sebrina (one year older then me and one of my friends) was trying to help Heather pick something up, and Heather started crying. Then Sebrina tried to comfort her and Heather cried louder and screamed "I HATE BLACK PEOPLE!!" See what I mean. It's horrid. I don't like Heather. But she's five whole years younger so I don't have to deal with her, but still. And you know what stinks? My school rocks. It rocks socks and it's awesome and I'v been here for almost nine years, but it's kids like Heather who will end up shutting down our school. At least she's still young and can learn better, but for now all I can do is hope for the best

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Inspiration



You know something? I really like this background. It's simple, in black and white, and has to do with flying. Gosh...I wish I could fly. I'm always drawing feathers and wings in the margins of my notebooks. sigh........Well anyway! This blog is going to be a documentation of my life starting now.


"...There was only one truth about forever that really mattered, and that was this: it was happening...Look, there. Now. Now. Now." -Sarah Dessen


She is one of my favorite authors. That quote is actually from my favorite book by her. The truth about forever. Love it. The name of this blog was inspired by one of her books too! Just listen.


Come to think of it, most of the stuff on here was inspired by someone or something in my life. Even the idea. I got that from my friend Stephanie who I've known forever. Longer then anyone else except my parents. The only difference between our two documents is that hers is a series of slide shows on YouTube, and mine is a blog written out by moi.

Favorites

Today I asked my dad what his favorite memory was. I said "Papa? What's your favorite memory?"


He starts walking away. "I have to tell the boys something." I follow him. He tells the boys they can watch a half an hour of Cartoon Network because he wants to watch the end of Tour de France.


So I asked him if he has a favorite memory. I said "Papa? Do you have a favorite memory?"


He looks at me and says "Maya. I have a lot of good memories. Okay?"


While I'm listening I realize a few things: a) "Maya." is not a complete sentence, b) You are not supposed to say "a lot" when you are not talking about a piece of land or an actual lot, c) "good" is the most obviously simplistic adjective that is over used and the one that teachers always bring up when they are telling you to use specific 'juicy' words to describe something, and d) the "okay" at the end was said in a slightly annoyed tone of voice and that under other circumstances I should be offended but I'm not because it is a very hot day and I completely understand him. But still, for someone so smart, he doesn't always make the best choice when it comes to speaking. Come to think of it neither do I. Not that I really care. It's just interesting.


He starts walking towards the back door to talk to my mother about something and clean the grill (we just had lunch) but before he gets there I ask what his happiest memory is then. I said "Papa? What is your happiest memory then?"


He looks at me, hand on the door knob (we keep it completely closed to keep the house cooler) and he says "Not right now Maya. Ask me later."


And that's it. After reading this you probably think I'm pretty weird or slightly mentally disabled. But I'm not. But most of my friends agree with the weird part, but just jokingly. And if you were to mention the mentally disabled part to them, they would probably blow up in your face. And if you were to mention that to me about them, they would restrain me while I tried to get right in your face and tell you what I thought you were. So your best bet is to not say anything slightly demeaning (or overly flattering, bordering on kiss-up), unless you know us pretty well. But then again you probably wont meet any of us, and if you did you wouldn't realize who we were. So you're good...for now...dun dun dun! ")


btw my dad's favorite memories were proposing to my mother (it's a funny story) and finding out they were pregnant with me...even if they didn't know it was me at the time.


Alrighty! Now that this is over I should figure out how to format this blog. It's so different using the new format. Where is that button?...