Be Grateful

This was intended to be posted like a few months ago or something… but I got really busy with like boyfriends and dates and stuff, so it was postponed. I only say this because it references “this year,” meaning 2013.

It’s a long post, but it’s about things for which I am grateful, so can it really be too long? Also I put in a bunch of pictures so it’s pretty much like a picture book.

Good listeners: In a world of self-obsessed selfies, subtweets, and status updates, the world is clamoring for attention. Everyone wants to be noticed and “liked.” Everybody, just stop. What’s that Walter Mitty quote that’s circulating right now? “Beautiful things don’t ask for attention," or something along those lines? How many selfies do you REALLY need? Are five Instagram photos of your face in one night really not enough? We get it, we get it. But please stop. Through all of this noise, search for the stillness of a listener. If you find one, keep one. But more importantly, be one.

Musical Things: I have a friend in massage therapy, and one time she was working some voodoo massage magic on my forearm. IT HURT.  She told me there was some sort of muscle there that only musicians and hairdressers exercise, and I can’t do hair (unless of course it is a ponytail—I have like 20 years of practice with those). I don’t care if it’s cliché to be grateful for music, without my instruments I would be a wreck, and I’m grateful that my musician muscle hurt (A LOT). Also, I am grateful for the masseuse.

Honesty: By honesty I mean: being honest with others and being honest with yourself.  Why are we so afraid of telling people how we feel? If we love them, why don’t we tell them? My conclusion: Fear. It can be a terrible dictator, especially of our emotions. And I don’t mean just love, I mean all emotions. Through both a lack and abundance of honesty this year, the juxtaposition has made me grateful. *Pardon the language… but it’s Adele, so can you really be mad?

You heard her. Don’t you be wasting NO time.

Spotify: OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG, PEOPLE. SPOTIFY. If you don’t have it, get it. All that music. It’s just right there. Waiting for you. Downside: want to listen to Nickelback but don’t want anyone to know? Too bad. Spotify is going to tell all your friends. Actually, you want to listen to Nickelback? Don’t worry, nobody will find out, because you probably have no friends. So cut that out.  

Another positive to Spotify: helps end piracy. YAR!! (1:20-1:45)

Soundcloud can also receive an honorable mention.

Books: I’ve always loved to read. It makes you smarter. Take it from this guy:

But books also make you feel emotions. As a result, this year I have emptied many boxes of Kleenex. Here is an example of a book recommendation that I finished a while ago.

BEFORE (I sent this photo to the person who recommended the book):

AFTER:

I also read Harry Potter again. But I will save that for another post.

Forgiveness: I’ve done some pretty stupid things this year. SHOUT OUT TO EVERYONE WHO HAS FORGIVEN ME FOR BEING AN IDIOT (I should have hopefully already thanked you in person). I’m grateful for being forgiven, and being able to forgive. Anger, bitterness or grudges do so much more harm to yourself than to the other person. If you haven’t learned this, I’m sorry. “Forgiveness… it’s more than saying sorry.”

And here’s a photo of Ryan Reynolds just because this is a gratitude post:

Tennis Shoes: I will dedicate another post to running one day, but I have run about between like 500-90,000 miles so far this year. That’s like at least 547 marathons or something.

You can just call me Forrest. I don’t mind. Tom Hanks is sexy. And I love beards (but maybe not as long as Forrest’s—refer to Ryan).

Guys, I’m not trying to brag. I’m not fast. But I have to burn up all the extra….energy, somehow, right?

FaceTime: You can’t hate Apple, because then you would also hate love. Because Apple brought us FaceTime, which is the same thing as love. Just within the last few months I have been:

In Hawaii (inside but it’s fine, it was late):

New York Citay:

Falling more in love with this boy:

 And… in Texas (she told me that “dancing was evil and comes from Satan” (okay Footloose) so hence the mean-mug. Also she will hate me for this but she did say she hated dancing):

If you don’t have an Iphone… what is your problem?

I’m also grateful for lots of other things this year like (in no particular order) (also this is not an exclusive list) dark chocolate covered almonds, Harry Potter stamps/mail in general, love, diet dr. pepper with vanilla, sonic, QT, gel nails, mahogany teakwood scented things, the walk-only zone people on campus and their dedication to the cause, Justin Timberlake, the wooden criss-cross peg thing that holds my keys so I don’t lose them (we set a record low this year, people), bangles, blue bubbles (just say no to green), public transportation, airplanes, chick-fil-a (deluxe spicy chicken sammys and cfa sauce), in-n-out, yogurtland, caps and gowns, concerts, karaoke, movie theaters, Tempe Town Lake, green grass, group messages, the beach, knitting needles, the Alamo, musicals, bffs, cake pops, chapstick, mints, rooftops, parents, siblings, cousins, NEPHEWS, fans, clarisonics, Chuck Bass, the desert, bonfires, midnight hikes, Moroccan oil, JESUS, candy crush, beats by dre, beats not by dre, churros, t.h.a.t. team, all clothes stretchy…

P.S. Tell someone you're grateful for them, please. K thanks everyone!

How to (and not to) Respond When A Light-Skinned Person Tells You That He/She is Mexican

I have experience with this.

Let’s begin with:

Common Responses

The first and most common:

“You don’t look Mexican.” (Real original)

            There are different variations of this:

            1. You don’t look Ethnic (what does this even mean??)

            2. You don’t look Spanish

            3. You don’t look like it

            4. You don’t look brown

If that response is not given, here are the runner-ups:

“What is your last name?” Followed by: “That sounds French.”

“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah right.”
“Really?”
“Oooookay.”
“Say what?”

“What did you say?” (similar to above)

“Shut the front door.”

“Do you speak Spanish?” (This is usually a test from Spanish speaking returned missionaries. Yes I can speak Spanish, but no, I’m probably not going to ask you if you speak Spanish because I don’t care that you served your mission in Guatemala or North Carolina-Spanish Speaking or wherever.)

“You do have a sassy walk” (my personal favorite)

“I can kind of see it…. Wait… no, not really.”

“No, you’re white.”

“You look white.”

“I thought you were Brazillian.”

The follow-up game to this is almost always trying to guess “how Mexican” I really am. The bids usually begin around 1/16^th.

Rare Responses:

“Yeah I can totally see it.”
“Cool.”
“Don’t care.”
“Called it.”

Also, I will give an honorable mention to one of my personal favorites: The Stare. This happened very recently, actually. After dropping the M-bomb (Mexican), the new guy with whom I was dining awkwardly paused. He looked at me like he wanted to say something, but wasn’t sure if it was appropriate. He then decided to uncomfortably analyze my face as if to try and find some sort of Mexican evidence there. I hate to break this to you, but you probably won’t find any tortillas on my eyelids. While maintaining his gaze on my face, he scooted around the food on his plate and tried to decide whether or not it was all just a joke. No, it’s not a joke, and no, your staring is not as covert as you may think. Your nonchalant food shuffle can’t fool me, bro.

I do not share this information to get attention. Instead, I, or my close friends, use it to gauge someone’s reaction. The reactions almost always fall into two categories: 1. Accusatory shock/surprise or 2. Tactful curiousity or apathy. Before you say something in the accusatory category, consider this:

Why would someone just lie about this? Are we 9-years-old? Why would I randomly claim a race for attention? And, if I were dong this, why, of all races, would I choose Mexican? Not that it’s bad, but, if I were going to make up a race to be, I would probably choose something more unique in the United States, like Luxembourgian or something.

(For those of you who are wondering, "where on earth is Luxembourg?")

Also, is it so outrageous for me to say this? Come on. I have dark hair, dark eyes and dark eyebrows. And, if you know my last name, the Spanish is easily dissected into two familiar words. Anyone who has taken Spanish 101 (80% of the U.S. population) knows this. (It actually means that I am from a particular province in Spain. This knowledge of the formation of Spanish surnames helps, but is not necessary).

For all of you technical people out there, I realize that I was not born in Mexico. However, I do claim it as part of my ethnicity. If you’re looking for an argument on the difference between race and ethnicity, and feel as though I have no basis for this entire blog post, please see this website.

So, the next time that you are in this predicament, just spare yourself and say something indifferent like,  “cool” (best accompanied by a head nod), don’t stare, and just leave it at that.

Thanks, on behalf of all light-skinned (half) Mexicans everywhere.

The Beginning: An Explanation

Okay, okay, okay, everyone! You can just calm down. I am finally going to start my long-awaited blog. I know, I know. “It’s about time,” you’re saying to yourself. I think anticipation for this blog began in middle school when one of my English teachers wrote in my yearbook: “Don’t forget me when you make your millions.” Or maybe it was when my English 102 teacher, Dr. Adelheid Thieme, told me I was the best English 102 student she had ever had. But that was probably because her first language was German. Or MAYBE it was when this one guy told me, “hey, you’re really pretty, you should write a blog!”

Surprise, we might have just played two truths and a lie. Ten dollars if you can guess the lie.  It’s not what you think… or is it? Also, I don’t have ten dollars to give you, so I’ll just award ten points to your house.

I have wanted to start a blog for years. I think I’ve been putting it off for a few reasons. 1. I could never decide on a name and 2. A friend once taught me that what you write is written into eternity and can never be taken back. These two things freaked me out, and if that doesn’t scream volumes to you about my commitment problems, I don’t know what would. There are actually a lot of reasons why I haven’t started. I hate that a blog would remove a lot of the mystery of my life. Like, everyone around the world who wonders “did she eat Hungry Howies or Chick-fil-a for her Thursday night date” would now know that 7/10 times it’s Chick-fil-a. Where is the mystery in that? Goodbye sexy mysterious Latin person, hello Chick-fil-a. Moreover, if someone wants to know how I’m doing, instead of calling me, they can just check my blog, and suddenly all of my real-life friends become fake internet friends and there is nothing I would hate more than THAT. So, if I am going to overcome my commitment problems and write this blog, I will also need a commitment from you. Will you, dear blog reader, promise to still be my friend in real life, even if you think you are catching up on my life through reading my blog? Check a box below.

Okay great, thanks. Glad we could move past that. After I had decided to be more mature and overcome my blogging fears, I was back to the dreaded task of thinking of a name.

I went through some of my favorite songs, trying to steal a name or a lyric. Nothing. Plus, that was far too cliché, and I hate clichés. So, on my own, here was my list:

1. I’ve Lost My Keys, But Not My Marbles

2. I Love Peanut Butter

3. This Is Going To Be A Really Great Blog

Wow, guys, just wow. I won’t even tell you how long it took me to think of those. I NEED A MUSE.  I have no inspiration. I hate this. 

And downward I spiraled into my hatred of blogs. So, in desperation, I asked my friends for their advice. Here is what I got:

Friend 1: “A blog about your life? How about ‘When Shit Hits the Fan?’”

Friend 2: “Erica, [We’ve Hit Too Many Red Lights] Get Out of the Car” – Friend 2 actually told me this a few days ago. Brackets added for clarification.

Friend 3: “…?”

Ah, yes. Friend 3 nailed it. This was actually an idea that I had already considered, and so when it was reiterated by Friend 3, I decided that was my answer. “…?” is the way in which my life had been defined by some friends of mine a while ago, and, much to my dismay, had stuck. That’s right, people. My life is so exciting that it can’t be defined by just words, but instead it must be defined by ambiguous punctuation. Ah, yes! I still AM mysterious! I guess we will go more into WHY my life is defined that way later. But for now, yay! I can begin my adventures in blogging.

There are a lot of people to thank for my love of writing. Most importantly, I can thank all of the people who upset me as a child and drove me to pen while I scrawled away my feelings in my diary (yes, I’m talking to you, girl who told me Harry Potter wasn’t real, and YOU, boy who always cheated when we were playing lazer tag). Also, if I’m going to mention them, I should also mention all of the boys I had crushes on and wrote about, too. If this were an academy awards speech, I would thank them all first, in alphabetical order. By accident, of course, because I will have to feign surprise about winning like every other person who has won an academy award. “Oh my gosh? Me?! But I’m just a cute little Mexican! I’m a female AND a minority! I can’t believe this. This is such an honor.”

I hope this meets all of your high expectations. By “all of you,” I mean a few of my friends, and the person who stumbles across this blog post whilst searching for a good blog about really great dating advice.

The reality is, the only reason that I am starting this blog is so that one day I can get really famous and score an interview on Jimmy Fallon and join him in a lip sync battle. Or at least get a mention from him on Twitter in a #fallonmono.

As my first piece, I feel a lot of pressure, so I would like to focus on something really important. I want to make you really excited about how I’m really smart and I know a lot of stuff and you can get really smart and educated from reading my blog. But, to make it successful, I also know that I need to incorporate some filtered Instagram photos/selfies, an inspiring quote with cursive writing about your future and being brave, and a creative way to make a fall pumpkin or something. If you’re a girl. Oh, I also need a child so I can write all about he/she used her first successful affricate in a CVCV word! If you’re a mom. Anyone want to let me borrow their child? Actually, if you are looking for a blog with any of that, I recommend doing a quick Google search for one. This is not where you’re going to find it. But Google can always hook you up. Or Siri.

In case you can’t find anything, here’s what I’ve got for you:

SELFIE – this is honestly the last selfie taken on my phone. I sent it as a snapchat from a date on my couch with Howie (he was delicious, by the way), and saved it so I could send it to people who didn’t have snapchat. I put on a filter for you so I could look more appealing and hide the fact that I'm not wearing any makeup. I hope it worked.

QUOTE – I hope I have inspired you.

PUMPKIN – Making a fall pumpkin or something.

Me with a baby that isn’t mine (but that I still love):

There you go. Also, I realize that so far I’ve told you a lot about what my blog is not, and not what it is, or will be. “Get to that point already,” you say. Okay, okay, fine. My first blog post will focus on everything I know about the website Pinterest.

The end! Until next time.