I'm a terrible person...

Thank you, Amanda.

2010-09-27T23:01:00.000-05:00

So. I am, like, always on facebook because I have no life and my boyfriend is 21 whereas I am not so I cannot participate in the same activities. Sorry...I'm rambling, BUT a friend of mine, Amanda K. from AAArt sent me this link: THE LINK about friends and losing them to jealousy, which I totally understand.

But, can I be honest for a moment? I'm not jealous of anyone at my school. Not that I think I'm the best because I sure as hell am NOT, but....like I said in my other blog, "There will always be someone better than you." So, why should I worry about everyone else? I don't even put myself in my friends' categories of art. My friend Ryan T. is so gifted with colored pencil; he makes drawings look like photographs. And Matt K. is so stylized and clever with his creatures, that, even though we both draw the same things, we draw them so differently. I can't even compare myself to them.

So, I guess though I may still have to worry about losing friends to jealousy, my friends don't need to worry about losing me. And, I guess that's all I have to say.

If you didn't click the link before, click here:
http://www.stumbleupon.com/su/27gKUY/luannudell.wordpress.com/2007/09/01/mean-people-suck-2a-professional-jealousy-part-deux/

I Am Now a Man

2010-09-11T18:31:00.000-05:00

So I've been thinking...

I dislike female artists. I do not know why, I am just prejudiced so I think from now on I will take on a male identity for my art.

By naming myself S.G.DeCarlo instead of using Samantha DeCarlo-or even just using G.DeCarlo- I will no longer have a "sex" to my art. I would much prefer to stay anonymous, or androgynous, when people see my work.

Drawing Hurts Sometimes

2010-09-10T18:26:00.002-05:00

Ugh.

My neck hurts so bad. My fingers cannot physically move a pen anymore. I need something cracked.

I suppose everything I do is worth it in the end. I began drawing a new piece for a commission that I, at first, had some major issues with but worked out in the end (or almost end I should say).

If you are at all interested in seeing it, here's the link: http://www.samanthadecarlo.blogspot.com/

So Glad to be the Only One

2010-09-03T14:08:00.000-05:00

I think this is what it would be like to have a sibling. As an only child, I never need to share my things, worry about someone using my art supplies, make up, or clothes. Since the beginning of time (when my life began, or at least that's how it feels to me) I have been the center of my parent's world, and that's how I want to keep it.

However, I can see some benefits to having a sibling...

1. I could steal her clothes (given I had an older sister) and hide mine from her (seems fair)
2. If I had an older brother, maybe I'd get to know some cute older guys! (Which, I suppose, would have only benefitted me before I met my current boyfriend)
3. If I had a younger sibling, I could boss him and all his little friends around and make them do my chores for little pay (or nothing more than a promise for Oreos)! I could have a mini-sweat shop right out of my bedroom....
4. I could use the little one as a scapegoat for all the times I got in trouble for demolishing the family room, or leaving empty dishes haphazardly around the house
5. I can't think of any benefits....

See? I wasn't meant to have a sibling. And don't pity me for never knowing the sisterly love that gajillions of other people have learned to love and cherish. My life is great. My life is how I am meant to live it.

Get Out of My Way Before I Beat You with My Aluminum Baseball Bat (it's in the trunk)

2010-08-25T00:38:00.005-05:00

People who drive as though no one else has anywhere important to be so they can just chug along at 18 mph in a 25 should be dragged out by their hair and beaten senselessly. Preferably with a bat or police baton.

Of course I don't mean this, I just wish some drivers would consider that OTHER drivers may have somewhere important to be and cannot waste their day driving behind a complete and utter moron in a faded blue, dented, mother-effing sedan that my SUV would pummel if it got the chance (legally).

My favorite part about driving behind these people, though, is when I get to lay on that horn. Oh, baby! Does that thing sing. I will honk my horn all day long until I pass that car. People who don't drive immediately when a light changes green, WATCH OUT! I'll be the biotch behind you honking the chorus to "Drive" by Nick Jonas. That should f*ck with you a bit.

So, next time you or a friend decides to get behind the wheel of a car, and you plan on "Driving Slow" like Kanye's homies, think about having me behind you, riding your ass and drowning out your music with a little song of my own, featuring the horn.

Would You Rather? (Part 2)

2010-08-24T19:12:00.001-05:00

Would you rather go without sex for a year or gain 10 pounds?

A friend, Natalie C, posed this question to me just this evening. I asked my parents, and they seemed to think that most people would chose to gain the 10 pounds. I agreed. I think the question would be more difficult to answer if the 10 pounds were replaced with 30 pounds. Then I'd have to think about it.

And I don't know what I would do. I would probably choose to be abstinent for a year. What if I gained so much weight (assuming more than 30 pounds) and I couldn't work it off? Then I'd think no one would want to have sex with me. Not to say my boyfriend is shallow, but an extra 30+ pounds on my barely 5'1'' figure would be incredibly dramatic; I'd be a little rolly-polly (depending on where the weight goes, which is usually to my thighs, lower waist, and face). And I can guarantee it's much easier to gain weight once you've started stacking it on than it is to lose it.

However, sex has been proven to be so emotionally and physically healthy for the body, that I would worry what would happen to someone who suddenly stopped for a year, or years. I know a lot of people go for years without an intimate relationship; it's obviously not a surprise. But, that must have some negative effect on the body and mind, right?

BUT, I would believe sudden and mass weight gain would be more detrimental to my body and health (physical, mental, spiritual) than being abstinent.

So, Natalie, I think that's my answer. Abstain from sex!

Weekly Confession (Part 4)

2010-08-22T00:40:00.003-05:00

I feel bad for people who don't have the relationship that I have with my parents.

It's true.

I can HONESTLY say that I would much rather hang out with my parents than go out drinking and partying. (Not that I drink or party much anyway...) But, most of my favorite memories are with my parents, not drunken "friends,"(who never bother to call me anyway and will most likely never read this, because they really aren't good friends to begin with).

I'm not bitter. I love the close friends I have, like, Sarah P, Carra B, Eric L, and my little Katie W. I have a wonderful boyfriend, Patrick S, and his friends are great too. I just feel more blessed to have two awesome parents who want me around and talk to me like an equal- not a troubled child who always messes up, or an immature "young adult" who shouldn't be trusted to make her own decisions.

So, I am happy and secure enough, I think, to say that I really don't need that "acceptance" from the in-crowd to feel alive, or to get texts telling me where "the party's at." I am just fine chillin' with my folks, watching a movie, or talking about stuff- cool stuff- that other people probably never get to talk about with their parents.

Pet Peeves that Piss You Off (and how to fix them! Sort of...)

2010-08-21T12:54:00.011-05:00

A good friend of mine, Nate T. emailed me a bit ago with a long list of pet peeves. I'd like to share them and my commentary with you.

* * *

1. People who chomp their gum or food, or who slurp their drinks. AND when people show you their chewed up food in their mouths. I really hate those things. (Yes, Nate, sometimes those things can be really annoying. However, I try to find the rhythm in between chews- like a metronome. Try to be at peace with it, otherwise you risk losing focus on more important things, like finding other things to be pissed at.)

2. Voicemail, I can't stand it. Have you ever noticed that when you listen to a voicemail, then call that person back to respond, they end up telling you everything they said in the voicemail? So, why do I go through all the trouble of figuring out how to delete previous messages and whatnot, which takes a few minutes, then listen to something that I probably can't hear or understand, just to hear it all again?(Perhaps to prevent this such occurrence, call the person back right away and neglect the voicemail awaiting you. Then, after a few weeks or so, your mailbox should be full with other neglected voicemail, and then no one can leave you messages!)

3. People playing music through their phone speakers in public! Do you need to listen to a song that badly that I have to hear it too? On the same note, what is with people who sing along to their ipods on trains, buses- or even crazier, sing to themselves, loudly enough for me to hear. Why do people assume that I will like what they are listening to or singing?. It's insane! (Hmmm, this one is hard. I dislike unwelcome, obnoxious music penetrating my ears as well. My suggestion is to stare intently at them with a scornful expression of, "Are you fucking serious" then maybe shake your head and return to whatever else you were doing. They'll get the picture. If not, then you get some free Britney.)

4. Something that has been driving me nuts since I moved to Chicago is slow sidewalk walkers! Some people walk so fucking slow, and it is always a pack of people or a couple linking arms. You can't get by them, you have to wait until a cross walk then scurry past them quickly, then look like an asshole when you are standing next to each other at a stop light.(Well, as a fellow city-goer, I can very much relate to this. And I have no word of advice for you because I, myself, wish very bad, horrible, catastrophic things upon these snailish walkers. I sometimes fantasize about them getting hit by taxis because they don't cross the street quickly enough; they just get plowed over one by one...)

5. I can't stand all of those people that you went to high school with but never talked to, and still don't, but ask you to be friends on facebook or whatever, and then you eventually delete them because you don't give a fuck that their boyfriend is a dick, or that their girlfriend is a slut, and that they were in a relationship but now they are "it's complicated"! Fuck those people, the worst thing is that they actually notice when you delete them, they actually know how many friends they have! They send you another friend request! Who the fuck do they think they are? (Well, now, Nate. I think that's just a little insensitive! Obviously if this person is hunting you down to ensure your facebook-friendship status is forever lasting, then you must consider the reasons why your existence is so vital to your stalker -- uh...I mean "friend"! Maybe he or she respects your opinions and desires constant status-changes explaining every aspect of your life. You should treat him or her to a "poke" every once in a while! Don't dismiss this necessitous person, for there may be a deeper reason this person is in your life!)

Sam, I could go on for days, but I hope this suffices. I can't believe more people aren't complaining, I love complaining. (Thank you, Nate, for all your insight. I'm sure a few of these have struck home with my readers. And if not, then maybe you are just too sensitive!)

Nate T

Weekly Confession (Part 3)

2010-08-17T01:05:00.004-05:00

Catastrophes excite me. I love when something goes terribly, terribly wrong and chaos breaks out. It's far beyond the "train wreck" phenomenon; I want to be in the middle of something intense.

My favorite is hearing the repetitive beep, beep, beep of the weather channel's report on the tornado pummeling toward DuPage County. I enjoy the rush of adrenaline that sprints down my body as my family and I gather my dogs and head downstairs. Is it a sick desire for something horrible to strike my family? I don't think so. Am I so bored that I need bad things to happen to me in order to maintain interest in life? Of course not. I am no risk taker by nature; I won't even ride on roller coasters for heaven's sake! So what is it?

I want to be needed, to have a purpose. I want to be relied on to help in times of distress and destruction. I want to be the one wading out into the street baring 3 feet deep water. It would be a test of my intelligence and strength in times when no one else can get a grip on the present.

And maybe that's why I've always wanted to be a mediator or therapist. I think I would be good at relieving stress and guiding people to the right decision for themselves. If anything, I'd like to be a couple's counselor. Aside from fascination with people and relationships, I enjoy trying to listen to both sides and finding common ground. Compromise. Yeah...maybe one day I'll venture that route. Maybe...

I'm 5 years old again...

2010-08-16T05:56:00.006-05:00

I just had a horrible nightmare.

It's the type of nightmare frightening enough to wake me from a dead sleep. It won't allow me to close my eyes again. I don't get these very often, but when I do, I'm paralyzed with fear. I want to crawl in bed with my mom, but I'm too scared to walk the few feet to her room. I'll be ambushed in the hall and slaughtered on the spot. I know I will. The killer under my bed is waiting for me to drop down my leg so he can pull me under with him. If I move, I die. I must hide under my blanket to ensure my safety.

...Before I even started writing tonight, I had to be certain I was alone: no intruder in my house, no murderer donning a steak knife. I am still not sure I am safe. I hate the dark.

I don't want to tell you my dream. No. I can't make myself relive that. But I can tell you another. I'll tell you about the dream that scared me the most of any nightmare I've ever endured. And it was only a few seconds long.

It's night out. Not a single star shines in the sky. My mom and I are walking down my driveway towards the back of my house. Neither of us are talking. A soft bark reaches my ears, which lets me know my youngest dog is trapped on my back porch, and she has been all night. I run to the old, paint-chipped door that will let me inside, half-teasing Derby for getting herself in this predicament, half-angry at myself for not making sure she was safely inside.

But my door is not my door. It is windowless and bares a cold, brushed iron knob instead of the small handle which was there before I left that evening. But this I do not notice, however, for it is a dream. I go to turn the knob. Wrapping my fingers around it and twisting it slightly, I begin to open the door. Though, before it's barely ajar, I feel the knob twist back and shut.

Dogs don't twist door knobs, people do. People in my house...This was the thought that woke me up gasping for air. I remember my mouth was dry from being open; I had been screaming in my dream. I didn't fall back asleep for hours after that.

I never figured out what was behind that door. I assume it was an intruder planning to kill me and my family. My puppy was the hostage. All I can be certain of is that this thought is my biggest fear. Bigger than my fear of sharks, which is saying something. I am going to attempt to sleep now. I may have to play Sudoku a bit to clear my head...

MTV, I respect you.

2010-08-10T20:45:00.001-05:00

So, I just watched MTV's "If You Really Knew Me,"and I must admit, I teared up a bit.

It reminded me of York High School's "Snowball" program, which is something I really believe in. Hearing other people my age tell me about the struggles they have gone through really turns on a switch in me. It makes me want to reach out and help anyone who feels alone, abandoned, or simply in need of guidance. Obviously, at the age of 20, I have little knowledge compared to an actual psychologist or someone older who better understands life, but I feel like I have a lot of love in my heart that I need to share.

Maybe that's why I always want extend an arm to people who are lost. I want to listen to friends-or even people I've never met before- and help them through their struggles. My Dad is really good at listening, and I still think he should have been a mediator or psychologist; I must have inherited the trait from him.

I feel kind of stupid though. I'm crying over an MTV show? Really? Get a grip on yourself, Samantha! I hate crying and being vulnerable. I feel immature. But, it is a nice reminder that I am human and have feelings.

Don't Try My F*cking Patience.

2010-07-27T08:43:00.000-05:00

I've realized I have little tolerance for people who make me repeat myself. Listen the first time, or I'll blow your f*cking brains out.

Thank you.

Weekly Confession (Part 2)

2010-07-21T15:33:00.000-05:00

Touch my feet to turn me on.

I mean it. It doesn't matter who or what race you are. It doesn't matter what gender, even! (Age does apply, however...no one born before my father in '57). I love when people rub, tickle, stroke, or grab my feet!

I'm sure everyone has a certain NON-SEXUAL place where if touched, it sends a chill down your body. The neck or ear are most obvious, but sometimes strong feelings can arise from more obscure places. For example, I also love when people touch the fatty part of my hips (the "flank pad" for those anatomy lovers). Even just a gentle poke or squeeze makes me melt. NO WHERE NEAR as much as my feet, but enough to relax me.

And the back of my knees. HELL, my whole knee. I just love it! Being softly tickled...hmmmmm.

Perhaps that was a bit much info...but a confession is a confession.

"I should stick to dating orphans."

2010-07-21T11:36:00.001-05:00

"No man will ever love me more than his mother," Lauren W. writes. "I should stick to dating orphans."

This is all that was sent to me this morning in her brief email. I laughed upon opening it because not only is Lauren absolutely brilliant, she is also absolutely right. Though the suggestion is extreme, I find it completely true that a man will always love his mother more than he loves his wife (unless perhaps mother and son are entirely estranged).

Though, doesn't a daughter love her father more than her husband? Though I'm not married, I cannot possibly imagine loving anyone more than I love my parents, even my husband (years down the road). Only my child would compete for that affection. The idea of losing my father and baring the loss alone crushes me; it brings tears to my eyes just contemplating it. So is it fair, Lauren, to rage against our men for loving their mothers just a bit more than they love us? Perhaps not.

Though it is a sad revelation, we women must accept it if harmony should exist among this love -triangle.

For the Greater Good?

2010-07-19T13:40:00.003-05:00

The room smells thickly of musk and sandalwood. The moth-eaten curtains hanging above you create an ominous, foreboding aura. The old woman with the scarf wrapped infinitely around her head and neck peers over her crystal ball and proclaims,

"You will cause one-hundred innocent people to lose their lives."

* * *

Of course, there is no exact way to tell the future or the long-term consequences of our actions. However, if you were given this information, how would you respond?

.........Will you sacrifice yourself now for the "greater good?"

.........Would you be willing to give your life to protect people you may or may not have ever met before?

A noble person might take his life to prevent these unnecessary deaths, BUT what if he wasn't given all the information?

What if thousands of people should have lost their lives, but you saved the majority, only losing one-hundred people. Are you then a hero?

I am not sure how I would respond, but this last question would be running through my head. I want to see the best in myself and assume I would never intentionally hurt another- that if people died due to my actions, it would be because I failed to save them, not because I killed them.

Worthless Piece of...

2010-07-15T13:32:00.002-05:00

I think I will delete this blog. I have no followers, and this is NOT supposed to be just for my entertainment. I want to share my thoughts with more than myself, and I have no evidence people even care about what I say.

No comments
No followers
No suggestions

Yeah. This seems pointless.

I Only Did It to Feel Good

2010-07-11T17:46:00.005-05:00

I have been feeling guilty lately for not drawing...thus I began a new piece. Though, it took a good half an hour to figure out what the hell I even wanted to do. I decided on an illustration of Aries (my astrological sign). Using only black and white micron pens only, I must shelf my desire to use color.

I only drew because I felt like I didn't want to be a half-hearted artist who needed to be forced to produce art instead of working from the soul. But, you know what? I had no desire to draw today. I just wanted to watch Harry Potter and a little True Blood later. I supposed I should be proud that I began a project that is impressive for my portfolio, but I need to get back to school already. My passion is beginning to snuff out from lack of inspiration and competition. I work much better when I surround myself with other artists. I want to pulverize them with skill (which does not always happen, let me tell you, but is great for either an ego-boost or a wake-up-call).

If I only work by myself, I can never see what others are producing. This is a great deficit to me if I lag behind in technique and talent. An artist should always compare herself with another to ensure she is on the same level or above her competition. But enough of my soap box...

All done.

Make Work Stop Sucking

2010-07-07T14:48:00.005-05:00

1. Treat Yourself to a Cookie
Go on, you deserve it. A special little "treat" a few times a day makes the time pass more quickly and more enjoyably. I love making hot chocolate as a mid-afternoon treat after hours of unenjoyable, trivial work.

2. Do Something Devious
I don't mean something destructive, just something fun that maybe only you or another person share. Play a small prank on a friend, or a boss (if he or she has a good sense of humor). Something a little out of the ordinary freshens things up and creates a more energetic mood around the work place.

3. Think about Happy (or sexy) Thoughts
During even my worst day at work, I can reverse my mood completely if I occupy my thoughts with all the good stuff to look forward to. Like seeing my best friend for tea after dinner, or watching a Harry Potter marathon. Maybe you have a date with your boyfriend and hope to get a little "midnight delight." You think it's silly? Something so insignificant-yet good-can really alter your mood.

4. Wear Something You Know You Shouldn't
Don't go all crazy in some scandalous get-up. But some sexy lingerie or nutty socks under the usual garb may give you a boost of self-confidence or amusement.

5. Make a Friend
Find someone who you can pal around with. The day goes by faster when you are not alone. Usually someone of the same gender is best, which then allows you to converse about all the "hotties" in the office.

6. Play Naughty
      Well...maybe not "naughty" in the sense of perverse, but in the sense of being a little mean. Oh! Don't make that face! Every job has a person who you can gossip or complain about. Someone may be putting you down at work, and you can get an imaginary upper-hand by pretending to rip them a new one when you get home. It relieves the pent up anger building during the day. Punch a pillow with their picture pasted to it. It works for me...

7. Take a Break, Every Half an Hour
Seriously, a 5 minute break seems ridiculous to someone who wraps themselves so tightly in their work that they forget to breathe! However, a short break becomes a small reward plopped in the middle of a strenuous day. Even at school, I take a break every hour to give my hand a rest from drawing, or allow my body to untwist (I find myself in awkward positions when caught up in a painting).

8. Feign a Phone Call
   Pretend you receive a phone call from your mother telling you of some horrible disaster than has befallen your family. You now must rush outside and discuss this emergency for a while. BUT, since there is no real emergency, you can now spend the moments you would be on the phone OUTSIDE and AWAY FROM EVERYONE ELSE. It provides a nice quiet break from the sterile air circulating above your desk.

9. Shop 'til You Drop
   Forever 21, Victoria's Secret, Nordstrom. All these stores are listed online. A little online shopping-or even just browsing-can brighten your mood and pass time quickly. Before you know it, ten minutes have passed! TEN MINUTES! I don't condone shopping for hours a day, or even more than once or twice a week if you are especially busy, but a little "you" time is well-deserved after a long morning of meetings and conference calls.

Sometimes I want to hurt you...really bad.

2010-07-07T13:26:00.000-05:00

You stupid, ugly, ignorant person. I look at you and want to punch your face in.

You cannot possibly understand me and my needs, so don't pompously mock my worries and upsets. I do not laugh at your miniscule problems-though in my head, I consider you a fool. So when I voice my thoughts, please be kind and say nothing at all, for I will have no choice but to plot all the evil I wish to bring onto you.

I am not a lesser person; I am not less deserving. Perhaps you are the one who I should jeer and scoff at. Take this as a warning, and do not cross my path again. You will be sorry.

Now I'm Just Paranoid...

2010-07-06T14:39:00.002-05:00

You know when you see someone do something really mortifying like scratch their ass or pick their nose in public, but out of courtesy you don't say anything because you don't want to embarrass them. Or when they even ask you, did you see that? But you, of course seeing it, lie and tell them, "No, what?"

I wonder, how many times has that happened to me?

My Weekly Confession (Part l)

2010-07-06T14:00:00.004-05:00

Sometimes the gross, repetitive habits of others calm me.

That tingle-y sensation you get when someone tickles your arm creeps up my spine and straightens the curly baby-hairs on the back of my neck. I begin to zone out. Loud chewing is considered rude and incredibly repulsive, but it can put me in a trance.

At first, the sound annoys me. Then after a few seconds, the repetition of the chewing hypnotizes me. My body thinks I am falling asleep; the feeling of falling pulls at my limbs until they weigh hundreds of pounds. If anyone should touch me, my body would convulse and be thrown out of balance.

However, this does not apply to every sound. Foot tapping drives me crazy and so do people who constantly bounce their knees when they sit. My mother always swings her crossed leg when she talks, and then nods her floating foot when she listens. One would assume I'd grow accustomed to this, yet it only irritates me more as the years go on.

With that said, I do not wish to now hear constant, obnoxious chomping in my ear from all who read this. I simply enjoy the subtly of a person unaware of the rhythmic metronome they slowly become for me.

"The Book:" its true inner-workings

2010-07-03T00:19:00.001-05:00

Facebook.

It's a disease that my generation has contracted. Even I heavily depend on it, not only as my main traffic source to my website and blogs, but for connections to friends and family, because that's what Facebook is all about. Oh! And did I mention an ego-boost?

Don't even try to disagree. The first thing everyone checks are their notifications. We wanna know if someone commented on our pictures or status. It provides some meager -yet potent- self-assurance that we are, in fact, cooler than hell.

And if there's a message in our inbox -hold the phone! That qualifies as double points on the coolness score board.

Oh, we girls love it when our friends leave compliments on our profile pictures.

"You look gorgeous! You should be a model!"

Yes. we've all said it, and we've all gotten it. It's the "go-to" compliment for all girl-to-girl photo comments. But that's why we have such great pics of ourselves in the first place. We want to hear it regardless of whether or not people actually mean what they say. The only reasons we'd put up bad (or less-flattering) picture is to show we are funny, to show we are in love (couple's picture), or to prevent other's from assuming we're vain.

Hell, my whole album of profile pictures are head shots of me being "sexified," which I took with my macbook in Photo Booth. I may only have a handful of images with friends, and only one with my boyfriend.

Don't get me wrong. Not everyone feels this way about "The Book." But I guarantee those people spend less than half the time online than I do. Alas, I don't mean to call out FB, but it's a truth I simply can't ignore. I have fallen victim to it, thus I can only assume you have, too.

Would You Rather?

2010-07-02T22:53:00.000-05:00

"You have food in your teeth. Right there. No, the other side," Flynn tells me as she gapes at my mouth, her own fingers pointing at her pearly whites as a meek attempt to show me where to pick. I quickly cover my teeth and run my tongue over them feverishly.
God, this is so embarrassing, I think to myself as I blush.

Everyone says they would want someone tell them they have food stuck in their teeth. But, really...I feel more embarrassed when someone tells me rather than if I find it later on my own. At least then I can lie to myself, Nobody told me because they didn't notice it.

Is ignorance bliss? Would you rather not know something that could embarrass or hurt you, or would you want the "straight talk" (by the way, I hate that phrase). I think I would rather stay ignorant to be honest. Call me vain, but it hurts my pride a little to know I've made a fool of myself.

You think I'm being a little over dramatic? Think of it this way...

This "tooth" incident happened a week ago, and I still remember it. I'm sure Flynn doesn't remember, or at least she doesn't think about how dorky I looked with cilantro wedged between my two front teeth. BUT I do. Why is that? Because individuals overestimate the extent in which people notice and evaluate our performance, appearance, and blunders. It's called Spotlight Effect (and I can thank Mr. Ovando's AP Psychology class for that one). So basically, it's only natural for people to assume everyone else obsesses over our mistakes just like we obsess over them ourselves.

Thus, I would just like to assume no one else noticed and move on with my life.

I can't be the only one, can I?

2010-07-02T18:30:00.000-05:00

Am I the only one who sometimes finds brushing my teeth freaking tedious? Or washing off my make-up before bed? There are times when I just want to say, "Screw this. I just want to go to sleep, dammit." But this attitude repulses those ultra-clean people who cannot imagine anything but a germ-free facial orifice or foundation-less skin once the clock strikes midnight. I'm sorry. Isn't that what gum is for? And my skin can handle a few extra pore-clogging hours.

My mother always yells at me when I fail to wash my face at night.

"You'll age prematurely and have horrible acne!" She then proceeds to cite the Bible (Cosmopolitan Magazine) which tells women to avoid doing all the things that I do regularly. Although I'm sure Cosmo did its research and knows its stuff, I can't be expected to always follow its "laws."

Am I the only one who sometimes likes to dress up and go to the mall solely to be looked at? Come on. You're lying if you don't like a little attention when you know you're having one of your "good days" (You know...hair is perfect, skin looks soft, make-up done just right). Now, I'm not talking about EVERY time I go shopping, just the times when I'm home alone, bored out of my mind, and all dressed up with nothing to do.

I wanna see some heads turn, whether it be jealous girls pouting over their poorly assembled outfit choice in comparison to my sassy wedges, sundress, and hobo bag, or hopeful boys wishing I'd look their way (sorry, boys, I do have a boyfriend). It's that small ego-boost required around "that time of the month" when I'm needing a little reassurance after being bloated and bitchy for a week. There's no harm in that, is there?

You Know You're Boring When...

2010-07-02T16:34:00.000-05:00

1. People yawn around you--every 5 and a half minutes
2. The person you're talking to is on their phone texting other friends about how boring you are
3. While you're on your soap box, your listeners are talking amongst themselves about the person behind you picking his nose...because that's far more important
4. You make yourself yawn--every 5 and half minutes
5. You read this and get offended

Secret Death Wishes

2010-07-02T16:09:00.000-05:00

Have you ever wished death upon someone you hated so much? Of course you don't mean it, well, at least you know you shouldn't.

What could ever make me so upset that I'd hope the ultimate end would come to my enemy, or even sometimes the person I love the most. Betrayal? Distress? Embarrassment? Nothing really. There's no excuse. Perhaps my hot-headed Italian-ness plays a larger role into my irrational thoughts than I care to admit, but I need to put a cap on it.

Although, I do believe some people are inherently bad with no moral conscience. However, I am not God and cannot decide whether their time on Earth is meaningful or not. I can just keep my opinions to myself. But do I need to respect them? My good friend Eric Lutz and I had a mildly heated discussion about respect for people we particularly dislike and some interesting differences surfaced.

Is respect something earned or given? He believes respect must always be given regardless of feelings toward another or of their beliefs. Which I agree with to an extent. I do not discriminate against religions or race, but I do not respect someone who is a potential aggravator in my life. For example, must I respect the belligerent person who constantly generates drama? I don't want fists in my face. He argues that while I may avoid this person, they still deserve my respect.

Respect? Define it. According to Dictionary.com, respect is "to hold in esteem or honor." I'm sorry. I don't think I can honor someone who could harm me. I could understand that if I show respect I may have a lowered chance of getting pummeled, but doesn't that make me a push-over? He thinks not.

   "How can you know what that person's life has been like? There must be something that caused him to act like an ass. Chemical or environmental," he explains.
   "Ugh, whatever," is all I can retaliate.

However much I argue, Eric does have a good point. All people must respect each other, and maybe if we all showed more respect for our neighbors then the world could be a little more bearable. AND maybe my drama queen wouldn't be so violent.

So I suppose the moral of my train of thought is...um...well, I suppose don't act like me. Be a better person like Eric. No one deserves to have death wishes set upon them, no matter how much they seriously piss you off.

Where it all began...

2010-07-02T00:55:00.000-05:00

During a late night drive home from the local Greek diner, I thought about all the horrible things I think about when I'm angry or frustrated or annoyed. Some thoughts would make even Hitler blush (it's okay, I'm Jewish). Though, as nasty as these thoughts are, I feel like I cannot possibly be alone. Other people may also wish terrible things upon the slowest driver on a one-lane road in the middle of afternoon when you're late getting back to work from lunch, and you can't pass him because the cop behind you has been tailing you for the past three blocks due to your irregular brake light flashing like a strobe-like pattern--well, you get the point.

Some things just need to be said because you may explode if you can't vent. Perhaps this is my "ventilation system." Shall I begin?