Brain. Hurts.

Why is it that school will work you until you want to die? My brain is on it's way to exhaustion. I can feel it coming. It's that familiar feeling that I hate. Thanksgiving Break was fine and dandy, but it's just the calm before the storm (of finals). Thanksgiving Break is just a teaser for Winter Break. They're just saying "Oooh, look how fun no-school is! Go ahead and relax"and then BAM! Back to school. Back to hell. Even worse? Finals, too. What a vicious cycle. My brain hates me. I let it turn to mush and then I put it into overdrive, with no warning, way too many times outta the year. I'm sorry, brain =(

Anywhosies, I hope your Thanksgiving was enjoyable. Mine sure was. I think it was actually the best Thanksgiving I have ever had. The food was way better than previous years . . . maybe because I assisted in the cooking of more than half of the dishes? Yes, that's probably why haha. My grandparents were out of town until about 7pm on Thanksgiving, so I took my grandma's place in the kitchen. I even wore her apron! It was a big deal for me haha it was like playing house, but with real food!

I'd love suggestions on a blog topic so suggest away =)

Get me off this roller coaster,
Salena

And yes, we do have traditional Thanksgiving foods on Thanksgiving. Jeez, I hate that question.

Sweet Pea & Lavender

I'm getting good at this whole "being a girl" thing. I just got out of a bubble bath; I was reading Glamour and listening to semi-girlie music. I'm not even kidding. It sounds so weird and movie-esque of anybody to be doing, but this literally just happened. I highly recommend you try this, even if you're a guy. I had time to just relax and not think about all the shit that has been going on lately (shit happening=why I haven't really been blogging lately). Nothing existed, except for me, my magazine, and my music. The world just fell away. I don't want to sound crazy, but it's the truth.

What else did I do today . . . ? Hmm. Woke up to my sister forcing me to do her online-calculus homework, took a late shower, had lunch, did some homework, watched the Nuggets game on TV with my papa [he gave me a surprise visit :)], took the above-mentioned bubble bath, and here I am. Great day, before an expectedly horrible week.

Back to reality,

Salena

Ooh! Here's an idea of the mood that I'm in . . .

Currently Listening To:

Tell Me I'm a Wreck - Every Avenue

Sky - Joshua Radin & Ingrid Michaelson

Gunpowder and Lead - Miranda Lambert

West Coast - Coconut Records

Burnin' For You - Blue Oyster Cult

Jump Then Fall - Taylor Swift

*Scar Tissue - Red Hot Chili Peppers

*Let That Be Enough - Switchfoot

*I'm Yours - Ron Pope

*You in a Song - Jason Reeves

*Highly recommended favorites of mine.

It's Halloweeeenie Time =)

Happy Halloweenie Time!

Crazy how different Halloween is now (in college), compared to when you were a kid . . . I miss it, but I wouldn't rather have it haha Halloween in college is . . . well, great. You go from house to house in search of the best party, not the best candy. Sure, your costume is a little more, let's say, risque than when you were a kid, sure you're a little tipsy, and sure you'll probably wake up God-knows-where, but it's quite possibly the best holiday in college all year! Actually, that shouldn't be a "but", it should be a "so". I just took a four hour nap; A.) To recover from pre-Halloween fun and B.) To reenergize for actual-Halloween! Oh how I love you, college =)

I'd write more, but I am simply exhausted.

Happy Halloween! And remember what I said about parties. Thank goodness my Organic Chemistry test was pushed back because of the snow days, otherwise, I'd be fucked.

I'm like the ringleader, I call the shots . . .

Salena

Isn't Life Just a Swift Kick in the Pants?

Where is my Life-Manual/Map? Seriously. How do you ever know what to do, when to do it, and if you're even doing it right? Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. The movies and TV shows I've watched over the last 19 years of my life are of no help whatsoever. If anything, they screwed me up even more than I would have been without them. Fairy tales and happy endings, people knowing exactly what to do with their lives and loving it, learning from mistakes and never looking back. It's complete bullshit.

How cynical am I right now? Geez. I realize I'm only 19 and have plenty to look forward to . . . well I could die tomorrow, but positively speaking, I have like 80 years left to live. But this is considered to be the "prime" of my life so I will continue to rant.

I think I definitely emotionally-matured later than most girls my age. Boys were not that big of a deal for me until a lot later in my teenage years. I mostly focused on my friends and school. So now that I actually do care, I have no idea what to do since all my friends are ahead of me at this emotional-boy crap. Boys will always be a source of girl-problems, but I'm just saying I am about one step behind a lot of girls (again, emotionally speaking). I'm awkward and weird. I've accepted it long ago. I love social situations, but it's still not second-nature to me how to act. I know who I am and I'm not going to act differently, but the shy, weird Salena comes out when I least want her to. This causes problems. All sorts of problems. Boy problems, friend problems, etc. But mainly just boy problems because all boys are idiots. Sometimes (not often) I think to myself "Ah, I love boys, they're so sweet and wonderful and funny and smart . . ." and then they add one more word to whatever they just said and I snap back to reality and go "Oh wait, they're all fucking dumb".

Boys aren't my only problem right now. The whole "school/education/ career" thing is really not making me happy right now. It's boring so I won't go into major detail, but HOW THE HELL DO I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING IS RIGHT? Where do I go from here? Is "here" even where I should be right now? Or is "here" just where I got to when I got lost along the way? "Life is a highway" and I might just turn into roadkill before I find my exit. I'm lost and confused and it seems that everyone else is speeding by with directions. WHERE IS MY MAP?! I know I should "enjoy the journey", but I just like to get to where I'm going or at least know how to get there. Once I know the way, I will be able to enjoy the journey. So give me a fucking map, damn it.

Dora the Explorer,

Lend me your stupid map, damn it.

Love,

Salena

Bad Words

I really never understood why "bad words" were bad. They are just words. Like screaming "shit!" is worse than "crap!"? That doesn't make sense; these two words are the same in definition. Cussing isn't bad, it's just another way to express how you feel, but in short-outbursts. Short and to the point. Like when I say, "fuck you" I don't really want to fuck you, but it's better than saying something like, "You're an idiot and I disagree with your stupid opinions".

I might be biased . . . I mean I have the mouth "of a sailor". I can't help it and I don't see anything wrong with it. Bad words=words.

Just sayin',

Salena

Less Like You (or More So? Hmm . . . )

1. I hate marshmallows (the texture grosses me out . . . and it tastes like shit)

2. I hate s'mores (because of #1)

3. I hate watermelon (most days out of the year)

4. I hate pudding (all kinds)

5. SNL is not funny (except for maybe once in a blue moon)

6. I did not vote with the "majority" of the country this past election (proud of it)

7. I can't swim in any legitimate manner (I will drown, don't push me in)

8. I hate cookie dough (it's just disgusting, I like my cookies cooked)

9. I learned to ride a bike when I was 12

10. My philosophy on relationships is kinda fucked up; I'll elaborate later

11. I refuse to use "LOL", even if I actually am laughing out loud

12. I don't like plain pretzels

13. I don't drink chasers, they fill you up too fast

14. My nap time is more like legit-sleep time

15. I'm an introvert, until I'm really comfortable with you

16. I started wearing glasses in first grade

17. I developed an ulcer in first grade . . . man, first grade was not pretty for me haha

This list is a permanent work-in-progress and will be updated when I realize more things about myself that make me feel less like you.

I'm no terrorist,

Salena

Lying Isn't all that Bad

It's not like I enjoy lying. I might do it as a means of survival, but not if the question is opinion-based. "Survival" meaning that if I want to do something my parents would clearly object to me doing, I just say something else. Yes, lying to your parents is bad, immoral, wrong, troublesome, etc . . . but girl's gotta have her fun. Fun is not possible with psycho Asian parents like mine. My lies are usually just little white lies anyways.

Example:

Mom - Will there be boys there?

Me - No.

Ok, first of all, my mother is just crazy and irrational. I'm 19 (and 5/6) for crying out loud, of course there will be boys. I'm not a whore, I'm not gonna sleep with random strangers and get pregnant. I just want to socialize and have fun. Secondly, getting dressed for a girls' nights? Completely different from getting dressed for a night out (unless your girls' night is getting dressed up and going out, but that's a story for another day). So what I'm wearing should be a clue as to what I'm actually doing and where I'm going. Third, mom, do you want me to be a lesbian/nun? Geez. [It's ok, I can say this because I love the gays (I can also say "the gays" because Shawn says it's okay haha)].

Often times I will answer sarcastically. My mother speaks English well, but sarcasm is not something she can understand easily. It makes me feel like I'm not lying as much. I feel justified for lying this way.

Example:

Mom - Where are you going? What are you doing?

Me - I don't know. Maybe Lynn's. Maybe to watch a movie.

Mom - You're just going to Lynn's house, right? Just to watch a movie?

Me - No, mom. I'm going bar-hopping downtown with a gang. See you in a week. Geez, mom. We don't plan everything we do (Exit quickly).

See? It's like a half-lie. I'm not really going downtown with a gang. I will be going to Lynn's house, but maybe just to pick her up in order to go somewhere more exciting. Maybe a movie will be playing in the background as we figure out where we're going for the night. Lying is okay, as long as it's justified. Plus, if you do end up going downtown with a gang, you already said you were so no lying was involved and being punished would be completely unfair on your mother's part.

However, lying about other things, like cheating on your significant other or killing people and stashing them in your shed? NOT okay. I lie to have fun. I don't lie to make you feel better. I am honest to a fault. If you want an honest-to-God opinion, I'm your gal. Does your dress do your body justice? If not, I will tell you.

Example:

You - Does my make-up make me look like a drag-queen?

Me - Yes, wipe that shit off.

It's for your own good. And if you can't handle the truth, don't fucking ask in the first place. I don't sugar-coat anything. Would you rather walk out of the house looking like a drag-queen or would you rather be told the truth so you can fix yourself? Plus, I'll pretend not to know you if you look like a fool. Appearance isn't everything, but that discussion is for another day.

I lie. With a cause, within reason. For me, for you, for all mankind.

You look silly,

Salena

To Party or Not to Party?

That should never be the question. However, if the question does come up . . . the answer = party. Here is my logic: By the end of the year, will you most likely remember "that one epic party"? Or that one time in monday lecture when you weren't still recovering from the weekend's festivities? The party, clearly. The party is always more memorable . . . even if you have to remember it through pictures.

Yes, there are many complications to this logic. What if I have to study? I won't have time to finish my homework if I go. What if I get in trouble? Blah, blah, blah . . . If these are your problems, then you just haven't mastered the art of being a college student quite yet. Quick solutions: Cram if you must, but studying ahead of time is preferable. You'll get your homework done, whether it be the morning of or right before class, you'll get it done. If not, you're just not as good as me and you suck. And trouble? Just be smart when you party. I prefer smaller parties, personally; however, huge keggers are almost always guaranteed fun. Just don't go too often. Know when you need to leave. Knowing when to leave is like a sixth sense so you can't really do anything if you don't have it; if you don't have it, just be prepared to run, hop fences, hide in crazy places, etc. Always have a reliable D.D. And don't drink to the point where someone has to carry your fat-alcoholic ass home. Nobody likes the overly drunk idiot everyone has to take care of. You're a downer and you most likely smell like puke. GROSS.

I'm clearly not a crazy party-gal. I mean seriously, I just said "gal". I have my fun and I do well in school. You just have to find the right balance between college and college-life. During the week, you might look at me and think I'm a boring ol' blob who only cares about school. You'd be correct . . . but only during the week. During the weekends, I am no where near campus, my books are under a heap of clothes that I tried on in the process of getting ready to go out, and I most likely have a drink in my hand at a friend's house (even if it is Capri Sun). My weekend is my reward for my week in hell (side note: I will usually refer to Regis as hell). Moral of the story/reinstated cliche: Work hard, play hard.

Don't blame me if you suck at college-life,

Salena

Oh! And congrats to CSU for beating CU yesterday =)

Sunday Numero Uno

How ironic. It's sunday, an actual suicide sunday, and I'm too lazy to write any more than this.

Ok, so it's not that ironic if you know how I define the phrase. Actually, it's quite fitting that I have nothing to write today. Good night last night. Drink of choice? Capri Sun Pacific Cooler Slushi. No, seriously. I recommend it for any future partying =)

"Where's Mitch?! I need more juice!"

Until next time,

Salena

Baby Jesus Says "Procrastinate"!

Why do I kid myself still? I'll have a whole weekend planned around studying and important things of the like. And when do I ever follow my schedule? Never. "Homework from noon to 4pm" I'd say to myself early in the morning . . . NEVER works out. Ironically, I'm never late if I'm needed somewhere (Attendance Record? Cleaner than your's). I function better under pressure anyway. Who writes essays early? And by early I mean starting to write it more than 2 days prior to its due date. Crazy people, that's who. I did that once in sophomore year in high school. Had it proof-read twice. Reworked it multiple times. End result? Worse grade I have ever received on any paper in my entire writing career. WTF, right? And this is why my homework philosophy is: Night before it's due or in the wee hours of the morning of! Works like a charm. Every time.

Real Life Example:

AP U.S. History, Senior Year.

~10 page research paper. Given . . . hmm, let's say a month or two to research and write it. I really have no idea how long we had, but it was a ridiculously long amount of time for a measly little research paper. Naturally, I wait 'til the night before to write it. My teacher, let's not mention names here, forced us to work on it in class a few times so I had all my research done. Hadn't really read through my sources for validity or relevance, but just having them in my possession for weeks tricked me into thinking that my paper was practically done already. There are many illusions in my head, as you will come to find later on in this blogger-bloggie relationship.

So anyhoo, I start this paper at 9pm the night before it is due. I think it might have been about the Great Depression, but your guess is as good as mine. I wrote 6 pages by 2am. It was going slower than any other paper I have ever written. I was panicking. A lot. But girl's gotta have her sleep. So I go to bed, wake up at 5am and write the last required pages and then some. 12 beautiful, crisp pages ready to turn in by the time I had to shower and get ready for school. Sure I thought I would get a 'C', sure 3 pages seemed to magically appear from the night before that I seriously could NOT remember writing (writing while blacked-out? It's possible), and sure I didn't read through it before I printed it, but guess what is written on my paper when I get it back a few weeks later? A gleaming '98%' and some bull-shit comment about how much he enjoyed reading it.

Now, I never claimed to be smart ok? I'm pretty dumb actually, and here's my proof: when he handed my paper back to me and I saw my grade, I proceeded to tell him how I wrote it. "Really? 98%? I wrote like 4 pages of this the morning it was due! Sweet." may or may not have been some of my exact words. His facial expression changed within a split second. He was angry. So I backed away and smiled nervously at him. Next semester's research paper? He made us all write rough drafts. Oops, my bad.

Extra tidbit: Guy, who will remain unnamed, started researching and writing his paper the week it was assigned. Came in to proof-read with the teacher multiple times, boasted how much he had gotten done every day in class for like 2 weeks, smart-ass . . . he got a 'C'.

Not a lot of sleep, stress out the wazoo, and just not a good idea in general. But the end result was like baby jesus telling me to never do anything ahead of time ever again and to have my fun instead of sitting in the library for weeks. Thanks baby jesus.

No Lie,

Salena

Blogging, eh?

Weird. Never thought I'd be a blogger . . . let's hope I have some interesting things to say throughout the course of this blog. Who the hell reads this crap anyway?

Why am I blogging all of a sudden? Good question. Partial answer: Life is just a silly little fucker . . . and I need to say a lot of things that I can never actually verbalize when I want to. I don't like sharing my "feelings" and "emotions" to anyone, really. I'm just not that type of girl. But I'm human, apparently, so I needed some method of getting everything off my chest. I guess it isn't that weird that I'm blogging. Actually, it's about damn time!

Today is a Friday. Okay it is technically a Saturday, but I haven't slept yet so it's still Friday in my head. "Suicide Sundays" just refers to the overall vibe in my life right now. Cambridge University will tell you this term means some specific Sunday after the last day of finals or blah blah blah . . . whatever. A better definition could be found in The Friday Night Boys' song "Suicide Sunday". Plus, I will most likely write blog entries on Sundays while recovering from whatever the hell I was doing the Saturday night prior.

This is what you should get out of this entry (in case you decided to skim it or you can't read between the lines):

• I'm here to make revelations about myself. I need change.
• I hate sharing feelings and emotions.
• The mushy-gushy shit won't fly with me (in real life, of course). You can share with me, I'm a listener and an advice-giver; however, I will most likely not share with you. Accept it. I guess blogging will help me open up (but not in-person, so get over it).
• Two reasons this blog is titled what it is are listed somewhere above this.
• I'm never going to claim reading this is worth your while.

Without equivocation,

Salena