Saturday, July 17, 2010

The things one finds!




Once in a while, I'll get bored and decide to go around my room, cleaning out my closet or rifling through a box of papers. Today was such a day. And oh, the memory/treasures I found.

For example, this is a little poem Alex and I wrote for English week at school. The theme: Renaissance. Alex and I were Zorne and Thorne, "the great duo that cannot eat corn", as stated in the poem below.
There is also this: a petition we got people to sign so that our school's cafeteria would be more vegetarian friendly. And yes, it worked.

There's my original forensic speech, "See Thru Like Saran Wrap: Absurdities in the Life of a Leftover". All the drafts are there. I had a lot of fun with it.


Here's an accompanying practice ballot:


This here is from yet another English Festival. I was sitting in class one day when my English teacher, Mrs. S, walked in wearing sunglasses and, wordlessly handed me this.

She left, and I examined its contents later, at lunch.

This is a Time-Travel Machine, as designed by myself. As you can see, it runs on rubber duckies. Makes perfect sense. This was during my senior year, by the way.

The assignment, also for English, was to create a product and the commercial to go along with it and perform it in front of the classroom. (The asterisk says, "Purple Travel does not ensure the return of all limbs with travelers".)

There was this letter from our very pale friend, James. Remember him, Gabs?

There are lovely memories linked to paper, aren't there?

-Veronica

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Americana

“You’re stupid, hahahaha, that’s ‘cause you’re Puerto Rican!” Imagine my mortified face and the hot blush (that you couldn’t tell was there because of my dark skin) that was attacking my cheeks. And then imagine the few silent seconds as my mind processed what had been said. I was fifteen when I first encountered the harsh reality of racism and it was from a boy from Topeka, Kansas. Looking back, I’m pretty sure there are a lot of other things he could’ve told me, however, the hurt would still be there.

Ever since that summer morning, I’ve been puzzling over what pulls people to act a certain way towards things they are ignorant of and I cannot think of one reason to excuse such a behavior. I puzzle because I think back to what I was taught in Ethics, in History, even in English: America is a melting pot. This idea of cultures coming together, melting and molding, paints a beautiful picture of people being able to accept and promote difference and understanding between each other. Nevertheless, history has also shown us how widely idealistic this idea of a “Melting Pot” really is. Racism, tension, even violence, has tainted a fading ideal and yet it still doesn’t stop people from searching for the Utopian “American Dream”.

We are searching for that dream because we truly believe it to exist –even in the simplest of ways. People work through racism and marginalization because they believe in a better future that, in many ways, entails working through the insults with a brave and unwavering face. As long as the yearning for the “American Dream” continues to exist, the melting pot will continue to expand and meld into an amorphous mass of whites, blacks, yellows and browns and there will come a point where people won’t be able to distinguish between what they deem as right and the aspects of mankind society has deemed as wrong. And in the face of such adversity, I shout loud and proud, “I am ‘Americana’ ”.

Gabriella

Sunday, June 20, 2010

Writer's Viagra

I have recently realized that I have this odd inability to write in both my personal journal and this shared blog at the same time. It's like I can't keep my mental erection up. For some reason, it bothers me to write the same story twice.

Moreover I don't really have anything to talk about since my life is about as interesting as lint. My journal has been turned into more of a dream diary than anything.

Let's see... I saw Toy Story 3. I think everybody agrees that it was amazing and it lived up to it's expectations. The Toy Story franchise is that rare one where it's sequels live up to the original. I think Twilight does that too in that they're all equally shitty.

I applied for a Semester at Sea. I need money. Ideas?


-Veronica

Thursday, June 10, 2010

Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Baking, I have realized, is just like life. I know my stepfather would disagree but, to me, it's all about trial and error. Sometimes, following the recipe to the letter might not guarantee a perfect product but making some mistakes is what makes the experience worthwhile. Moreover, as you make these experiments (say, baking some cookies) over and over again might yield spectacular results. In life, the same principles can be applied.

Dealing with people is just like dealing with volatile ingredients such as baking powder. Pour too much into the batter and something horrible could happen. The same thing happens with people, say something wrong or do something that, in their eyes, is bad, and something just as terrible could happen. Let's face it, we're as complicated as a 7-tier, fondant-covered, sugar flower-decorated, chocolate and raspberry-filled wedding cake. See how difficult?

And yet, just like the brownies, cookies and mouse I have just prepared (God, I need a job), you can't go into projects with fear. You can't be afraid to tell someone something just for the possibly distant fear that it might upset them in the long run. We might not be as strong as hardened caramel, but we're built to overcome most of anything. You keep something inside too long and it might just make you collapse faster than a soufflé near too much noise.

Food analogies aside, the real lesson to this is that you can't, for the sake of simple sanity, allow yourself to become bottled up with emotions. People are indeed difficult but so is making a delicate checkerboard cookie. Toil and labor for your aims. Make a mistake or two! Who knows. Maybe you'll end up with a great result. A wonderful dessert for you to share.

Bonne chance!

Gabs

Wednesday, June 9, 2010

Googling random things


Google the first thing that comes to mind. Go to the very last page. I can almost guarantee you will find something amusing or interesting.

For example, I got this when googling "Benny":



I got this when googling "brush":


Apparently, they used to sell brushes on the street.

- Veronica

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

We've got unfinished business

Closure.

When we can't have what we truly want, we like to tell ourselves that closure is what we need. The cynic in me wants to scoff at this and say, "Of course you don't need closure, we need food and water and air". It's been proven though, that to be successful in life, one needs more than just the basic. People need to be loved and nurtured. But it isn't all about success (however one may measure such a thing). Our need for closure is almost instinctive, intuitive.


As Ralph Waldo Emerson puts it:


"The inquiry leads us to that source, at once the essence of genius, of virtue, and of life, which we call Spontaneity or Instinct. We denote this primary wisdom as Intuition, whilst all later teachings are tuitions. In that deep force, the last fact behind which analysis cannot go, all things find their common origin."


The need for closure then, runs deeper than what can be tuition. I don't think it's something that can very well be learned. Our need for closure the nagging feeling we get when TV shows leave you with just a cliffhanger. It's the way we believe ghosts are souls with unfinished business. It's the way you hurry when you have to put your book down in the middle of a good part and go pee--okay, maybe that's just me.


We hate open endings because they leave us with doubt and insecurity. The feeling of insecurity and helplessness we feel when faced with an open ending scorns our vanity like few other things can. We have to feel that we can control the events in our life because we know the end exists, surer than anything, so we have to make it count. If we can't control it, how could we ever make sure it really does count?


We don't.


I, myself, am not immune to the uneasy feeling of not seeing something through. I can, however, admire the beauty of an endless perhaps. While death is finite and absolute, an open ending leaves us with Infinity--the nostalgic world of what could have happened.


I'm not afraid of dying. As Walt Whitman very well said, "to the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure". I'm scared of the definite and the absolutely unchangeable-- of the autopsy that says exactly how it happened where my parts would sum up to who I was.


One hears those stories of the lonely person who got lost in the backwoods only to be found dead by some kids weeks later. Me? I want to get lost forever so that whosoever may care will never run out of things to think. "Perhaps she sprouted wings and flew to a shore where she became a crab. Perhaps she was fished out by an old man who made a meal of her. Perhaps she died in a completely unremarkable way. Perhaps… "


To Albert Camus, Sisyphus, whose punishment it was to push a rock up a hill for all eternity, had two choices: let the rock fall on him so he would die or embrace the punishment, defying the Gods by showing himself happy in the face if his fate. I propose that we should do the same when it comes to the loose ends in our lives (not that these are punishment). When faced with something we simply cannot see through, we should smile.



-Veronica

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

The curious case of the StumbleUpon button.

I'd written this earlier but one of my fans has experienced StumbleUpon for the first time so I thought it appropriate to post.

If you're like me, you have succumbed to adding a small button on your web browser. This innocuous button has a simple word, "Stumble!". Not very complex, you see it and you're tempted to press it. It is then that the magic happens. Surprise! An interesting site pops up. Then (if you are indeed, like me) you lose your concentration completely and are suddenly compelled to click it again, and again, and... again.

It's almost a reflex action to find even more interesting things. For example:

The silly ones:
  • http://wildammo.com/2009/09/26/national-flags-never-tasted-this-good/
  • http://www.listal.com/list/m-p-t-t-t
  • http://www.armchaircommentary.com/2009/11/if-star-wars-luke-skywalker-han-solo-had-facebook.html
These are mostly stupid things but sometimes you get really interesting political pieces and not the bipartisan crap you usually get. Or a website dedicated to French animated shorts. Or that particular artist with the photo-realistic renditions.

The good/sometimes serious ones:
  • http://readersupportednews.com/godot
  • http://www.boredpanda.com/25-photorealistic-pictures-drawn-with-a-bic-pen/ (yes, there are naked people on this site, chill out*)
  • http://www.dailykos.com/storyonly/2009/8/26/772918/-*Awesome*-Cartoon-Explains-Public-Plan
  • http://www.blog.exxcorpio.com/2009/06/29/12-awesome-french-short-animations/
  • http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A9CQDKt8LVo&feature=player_embedded#
Awesomeness aside, this button is dangerous. For those of you who have experienced this phenomenon, you'll know what I'm talking about. The addictive quality to this program does not help at all when, say, you have to finish that English AP term paper worth 15% of your grade. Or, that Religion take-home you've been extending the deadline on... Proceed with caution. And know you will not be disappointed.

Battles:

boredom.
listlessness.

Aids:

procrastination to the nth degree.

*On an important note, I don't know if it's me or something, but I seem to get way too many naked girls. And they always turn out either Russian or Eastern European. Weird... Unnecessary. Unavoidable. (if, in the personal settings you choose "Photography" as an interest)

So if you're ever in the mood, stumble. Like it. Spend hours surfing the vast reaches of the internet.

'Till next time.

GABRIELLA :D

Saturday, May 29, 2010

Neutral Milk Hotel

One of my first interactions with Yellow was a poem he put on my facebook wall. I can't show the poem here because it isn't of my authorship (this happened on May 7, 2010). I will just say that he mentioned a certain act. I replied o this poem with one of my own:

I know this act--
the whole play, in fact
and I'll tell it from the start.
A foreigner in a land like art,
It's Prince with his power

Wanted her to climb a tower
But she resisted for she knew
the rest of his land would be lovely too.
So they sat on a traveling cloud,
drank tea and laughed loud.

Today, I heard a song by Neutral Milk Hotel called "In The Aeroplane Over The Sea". The very last bit of the song says:

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all around the sun
And when we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing with everyone I see
Can't believe
How strange it is to be anything at all

One of my favorite movies of all time is The History Boys. In it, a teacher, Mr. Hector says, "The best moments in reading are when you come across something - a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things - that you'd thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you've never met, maybe even someone long dead. And it's as if a hand has come out, and taken yours."

I just experienced that very same thing. I've experienced it before but it never gets old.


Cheers,
Veronica

Friday, May 28, 2010

Watch me not care...

... and fail miserably.

Yesterday, I wrote a synopsis of my love life from a year ago up until now. I decided not to put it up but it was a good venting exercise. Either way, the reason I needed to vent--my frustration, still exists. The truth is that I'm an emotional masochist and will always be.

On to other, more important matters, last night at about this hour, I was feeling quite hungry. I went downstairs and boiled three eggs. That is all. . .

Just kidding. There's more to the story than that. Anyway, I peeled these three eggs when I thought they were ready and one of them still felt squishy and not as solid as the rest. My brother was in the kitchen with me when this happened and he tried to stop me when I had the brilliant idea to microwave it, saying it would explode. I gave it thirty seconds. The egg didn't explode. I picked it up and put it near my ear to hear the ocean. I didn't. I heard a sizzling sound. I held it up to my brother's ear. He heard the sizzling sound.

"It's still squishy", I remarked and, holding it between my thumb and index finger, I squeezed it a bit. Then, with a sound like a Snapple bottle opening, it burst.

So, ha. Eggs don't explode when microwaved--they burst.

The moral of the story is.... it actually has no moral. I just wanted to say that there must have been some irony as the event of the Great Bursting Egg occurred soon after the post where I spilled the beans on my love life which was titled, "Testicular Reconstruction Surgery".

Let's go microwave something else,
Veronica

P.S. I have nothing to say. I just wanted to write "P.S.".

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Is getting a twitter account worth it?

Gabs

A post of many faces.



I've made up my mind. Sometimes it's ok to lie.

Gabriella

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Obsess


I have no problem admitting the fact that I obsess about certain things. To me, it means I'm focused and I know what I like. At one point, all I would wear or own was purple. I still love purple but since I dumped the schoolgirl uniform, I realized that if I wear purple every day, it will seem like I'm wearing the same thing every day.

Today, I am here to analyze my longstanding obsession with nail polish. The first nail polish I remember wearing, was a Sailor Moon red. It peeled away. It was one of those glue-like ones. Perhaps there is something about my early disappointment in the Sailor Moon nail polish that is now engrained in my psyche--I want the real deal. Many of the real deal, actually.

This is, by no means, a unique obsession. I know I share it with many a girl (and even some boys) so they couldn't have all been disappointed by Sailor Moon nail polish.

Here's another anecdote. I was at the mall. I had left my phone at Spencer's and on my way to retrieve it, a girl working at a booth grabbed my hands, looked at my bright purple nail polish and asked, in a tragic tone, "why do you wear nail polish?", as if it were as bad as kicking puppies. Affronted, I replied, "I like colors". She laughed and then continued her sales pitch.

The point is, I do like colors. A lot. I could go for the well-used, "they represent diversity". The truth is I simply like the fact that I can wear a color. I like the way they look when my fingers are going across the keyboard, pressing strings on a fretboard or brushing my teeth. It's fun.

Without further ado, here is my nail polish collection.





This is what 86 nail polishes look like.

Also, I would like you, the nonexistent reader to pick the color I'd be wearing this week. Here are the top contenders:


Their names are, from left to right:
  • Mint Candy Apple by Essie
  • 194 by Bettina
  • Blazing Blue from the Insta-Dry line by Sally Hensen
  • Bubblegum Pink from the X-treme wear line by Sally Hensen
  • Ring My Shell from the Salon Complete line by Sally Hensen
  • Mauve It from the Insta-Dry line by Sally Hensen

So, Miss Gabriella, tell me? Which will it be?
-Veronica.

Monday, May 24, 2010

You and Me
by Alex Caldwell

You send shivers down my spine when you walk in,
Cause the butterflies to flutter like mad.
When you look in my eyes,
You burn right through me.
You are the sunshine when my skies are clouded,
The light when I can't find the good in the world.
I could be all that you need,
You are all that I want.
My stomach knots when you are next to me,
You make me nervous and giddy.
I smile at the thought of you,
Quake in your presence.
You have all control over me,
And you don't even know it.

Read more: http://hellopoetry.com

Because sometimes poetry says everything you wish you could say.

Gabs

Prom.

First off, I changed the layout. This won't be a permanent change because I believe "Minima Black" doesn't portray our personalities very well. However, finding a new layout and organizing it the way I want is haaaaard. So, let's see what happens in the future.

Now on to the ACTUAL business. My prom was on Friday and it was epic. But I feel confident enough to say that Friday wasn't the epic-est of nights. Saturday was. I guess this comes from a very interesting night of Medallas, 43 (+ milk) and a lot of crappy vodka. After a very disorganized "Never Have I Ever" we were pretty much shitfaced and some people ended up in the bathroom (in the bathtub, actually) and I ended up on the bed with my date. We went to bed at around 3am after some very questionable events but the morning after was the funniest of all. Mostly because Veronica and I were rushing to get rid of all the booze before my mom got there (which, by the way, she never DID! >.>) and because we looked like death. Moving was ridiculous and the pool was a bad idea for nausea. However, it was the best weekend I've had in a while. In fact, it was an awesome way to start off the summer.

Speaking of summer, I have lots of things planned. But I have a question... Is it ok to be honest at all times? Or is it necessary to lie every-so-often? Furthermore, is it ok to lie when feelings are involved?


As always, confused,

Gabriella

Thursday, May 20, 2010

Reading all the drafts we have made me want to publish them.

-Gabs (following in Veronica's example)

Setting Your Bed On Fire


I was quietly sitting on my bed taking a break from preparations for the weekend, reading La loca de la casa when I started to smell smoke. I thought it was coming from my AC so I turned that off and the smell ceased.

A few hours later, my sister came in my room, turned on the ceiling fan and left. I started smelling smoke again. I went around the room trying to find out where the smell was coming from. I unplugged everything and still, the acrid smell permeated. I called in my brother and my father and we smelled each and every area of suspicion and couldn't find anything. My dad insisted that it came from near my bed.

I saw it then: Chicken McChickenson, glowing--burning! His leg had been cauterized and had fallen off! The culprit: a power supply cable. I stomped everything out, laughed and took a picture. Chicken McChickenson is currently in the washing machine, for good measure. Hopefully Ms. Carolina will be able to fix him as she has once before (Chicken McChickenson was partially decapitated in December and she re-capitated him).


There is a beloved children's book called If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. It is essentially, a lesson in consequences. I'm not sure where the action/consequence line is drawn but apparently, if you give Veronica a bed, an iHome power supply cable and a chicken purse, she will set those on fire.




Um, yeah.

Veronica

P.S. You'll have noticed I'm using my real name now.

The four words no guy wants to hear.

"No sex before marriage."

Really, such a simple sentence -phrase, even- shouldn't have that much weight. But, to the guy I'm currently pseudo-dating, saying that was a very bad mistake. Although he swears upon everything that it doesn't matter, his face just as I said it told the real story. His eyes wide, his jaw slightly slack, he stuttered out a small, "Ok..." and went on his way (he was leaving my house, after all.).

What's with the stigma of "saving yourself"? I understand that this decision comes tied with a big religious connotation but what about those of us who'd rather just stay safe, away from the glaring eye of an unplanned pregnancy or a damaging disease? What if you're simply not ready?

The pressures for a girl to "put out" for a guy are just ridiculous nowadays. And this is coming from an eighteen-year old who grew up in a pretty sheltered society. I shudder to think about all those girls who don't have nice boys around to respect them. The ones who are having sex at thirteen because it's "cool" and will make them popular. The ones who get used and tossed and ostracized either because they did eventually give in to the whims of someone else, or because they decided to stand by their beliefs.

And that's the funny thing, we live in a society where it's OK to have sex, be sexy, be lose. The media teaches its audience, "Hey, it's OK to have sex! It's OK to be a teenage mother! Look at Britney's sister! Look at those "Pregnancy Pact" girls! They did it and they couldn't be happier. They're even getting out attention." This attention, my friends, is being given to the wrong issues.

For me, that one-minute exchange left me feeling confused and a little hurt. But I know that he'll respect me because he's just that kind of person. However, for hundreds of other girls, there might not be a happy ending. They might be black-listed because they said no, or black-listed because they said yes. They might commit suicide if the pressure is too strong, they might break and ruin their lives forever. Whatever the case may be, the ultimate problem is that there isn't a half-way point. In high school, it's either one or the other. In real life, it's pretty much the same deal -except maybe without so much awful drama.

Confused.

Gabriella


Song of the moment: "The River of Dreams" -Billy Joel

Wednesday, May 19, 2010

IT'S ALIVE!

Yes, my dear, nonexistent readers--The blog lives!

This, I suppose, arouses many a question. One of these could be, "Why did it die in the first place?". Well, little Virginia, as it turns out, when you're busy having a life you forget to write about it. During my time away, I've gotten through one and a half (the half is because of the strike at UPR) semesters of college; I've dated a guy who confused me for an unmentionable literary character (if she can even be called that for her lack of actual character); and I've made some amazing new friends as well as strengthened some old friendships.

One of these new friends, Carolina, inspired me to return to this blogging business. I don't think the rest of the original five will jump this bandwagon yet again but perhaps one or two might be inspired. Who knows, maybe we'll have some new people with us.

As to recent happenings in my life, there isn't much to tell. My university's on strike and my cousin got married last Saturday so that absorbed a lot of my time. The rest of it has been taken up preparing for Miss Vickytoria's prom this week.

Chee says ciao