Wednesday, December 29, 2010

A little TOO much family togetherness...

Hogwarts from under my umbrella (the weather was not cooperating) at the Universal.
Cherry pie, not baked yet.
We're so cool, we watch foreign films on Christmas Eve instead of Christmas movies! (It was called "Children of Heaven," and even though it was in Arabic you HAVE TO SEE IT! (English subtitles! Duh!)

The blizzard that hit the day after Christmas.

It was an absolutely WONDERFUL Christmas. I love Christmas here because everybody gets so jolly. I love being with my family! *Awwwwwwwww*
These pictures basically cover the last two weeks. Not that good, I know, but I was just so busy being JOLLY!

Thanks for all the comments on the last post, everybody, because now I'm determined to put more outfit pictures on this blog! *Applause* I love blogging support! Yay for us! Goofy goofy goofy Goobers yeah!
How were your holidays? Tell me all your funny stories I triple dog dare you!

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

In which I try to be fashionable.

Oh hey! I know you! We read each other's blogs! Long time no see, fella!

To me, it still feels like Christmas, so I'm still on vacation. And although I love to blog, I've been going through a little blogging rut. Like a blogger's block. But I'll post again tomorrow. And please, this is my vacation. And I'm tired. So if watching a marathon of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills gets my spirits up, so be it.

Oh! I have pictures! That I'll post! Brain Blast!
Speaking of pictures... I started a Lookbook, and I stink at it. Everybody is so much cooler than me. Why can't I be cool and mysterious and quote song lyrics nobody ever heard of in the titles of my looks? I mean, my look singular. Which is why I just deleted my accout, because I so need practice in this whole taking-outfit-pictures thing.
So, see ya later alligators! In a while crocodile!
p.s. I just looked at my lookbook again, and all these people posted after me and they have way more hype! Their pictures are so much better! Here are MY pictures:

They suck. But I'm going to blame it on my camera. And my over-sized sweater from my grandpa.

I named my look, "Meet My Grandpa."

Wednesday, December 22, 2010


I'm writing this at home, thank GAWD. I somehow made it back up the East Coast alive. The way things were going I never thought I'd see my friends, my dog, this keyboard again. Luckily, I made it out with only a sore throat and chapped lips. So thank you, Lord. Thank you.

The TSA is seriously destroying, no, I mean tearing in half the heart airports and I share.But I guess we're just going through a bump in our relationship. Maybe we'll make it through, who knows. Fate will tell us soon enough. We have to strengthen our love. We should probably go to one of those couple-counseling classes.

But why, why is our love in question? The TSA! They want to break us a part! What did we ever do to them? WHY WON'T MY SPACEBAR WORK? Why do they think I'm some sort of criminal? Because I'm a quarter Arabic? HUH?
(Ok Miss Melodrama)

So there I am, peacefully going through security with my family at the Orlando International Airport. I follow all the rules: I take my shoes off, put my bag and jacket into a bin, etc. Following the tall TSA officer's signal (we'll call him TSA 1), I slowly walk through the metal detector, and having made it through, he motions for me to step inside the clear, rectangular HOLDING CELL! My brain is a whirlwind of thoughts, most of them "I'M NOT A TERRORIST!!!" TSA 1 casually steps in front of the door, blocking all of my means of escape.

The fish bowl/prison cell I'm trapped in is smack-dab in the middle of the security mayhem. Hundreds of families, old couples, and business people pass me, free to go. They give me weird looks, like, "what is she doing in there?" I could just see a mom telling her young daughter, "Now Susie, remember to always be careful at security, or else you'll end up like that girl." Then she'll point at me and little Susie will glare at me a nod her head... oh how awful...

In reality I'm hysterically laughing and nervously picking at the sleeves of my sweater. I tried my hardest to get my dad's attention, who was right outside my box (i.e."Dad! Dad! DAAAAAAAD!") but it didn't work. The dang contraption was SOUNDPROOF! Luckily, my mom, who was behind me in line, saw me trapped in the wannabe-prison. Her eyes laughingly-widened and she approached TSA 1, and asked him nicely what the dealio was. He said he was going to check my hands or something. I was just glad I wasn't going to get patted down. Then I tried to make small-talk with him. Didn't work. I guess repeating "this is awwwwwkward," over and over again isn't a good way to start a conversation. You learn something everyday.

Then another TSA agent, another really tall guy (TSA 2) opened the door at the back of the cell and led me out. He quickly swiped both my palms with a moist tissue that looked like a Band-Aid, put it through a machine, and then said I was "free to go." With wide, terrified eyes, I stumbled over to my family, who were watching the whole spectacle a couple of feet away. My mom asked him what the wipes were for, and not very understandably he replied, well I didn't really hear what he said. Something to check for chemicals or something.
My mom thinks they took me aside because I was devouring a bag of Luden's Throat Drops to revive my sore throat. They could have left some sort of residue on my hands.

To tell you the truth, I'm kind of glad they held me back. The TSA really does keep our flights safer. They check everybody. They just scared me a little bit. A lot a bit. Like, what the heck were they checking me for? Why couldn't they tell me? Or did they just randomly wanted to swipe my hands with a mysterious liquid? Was it Purell? Did they want to make sure I didn't catch a cold or a virus before Christmas? Because if so, they are way too late on that one. Like, WTFN?

I'm just glad to be back in Connecticut. I missed the frigid weather. The flight was awful. It was all bumpy, bumpy, bumpy. I was sitting up right squeezing the armrests for dear life the whole time. Bravo wasn't even playing RHOBH on the personal TVs! But as soon as I entered the terminal, I felt like I was home. I saw the dreaded Ugg and Northface combo, the knit hats, the long puffy jackets, and I knew I was home. In time for Christmas! Like an ABC Family movie!
What do you guys think? Is airport security fair?
p.s. I'm looking for submissions from you guys for this blog, like guest-blogging. They can be about whatever you want, but I'm really looking for a good winter fashion post. So if you want to be a guest-blogger here, email me at . Pretty please!
p.p.s. I HAVE A TWITTER!!!

Monday, December 20, 2010

Disney World vs. Universal

You guessed it! Not really! But we can pretend you did! We can also pretend this is funny! Here I am, Orlando, Florida, the country's strip mall capital. Not as awesome as you thought, eh? Of course Jen would have to be going somewhere cool, seeing as she is a very cool girl, heh heh...
Anyway, my family is not a theme park family. We are more of a city family, a discover-old-ruins family, a museum family, a nerd family. The only reason we're here is to see the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Islands of Adventure, because believe you-me, we are die-hard Potter fans. We went to the Quidditch World Cup in NYC in November and saw HP 7 the night it came out. We thoroughly converted Marg to Potter-obsess-ism. We play Harry Potter Concentration during road trips (Jos is a witness). So of course we had to make a pilgrimage to Harry.

We went on Saturday in the pouring rain with my grandparents. I considered dedicating a whole post to the fail that was that day... But... It would be too long. So I'll tell you that it was a fail. A fail.

Yesterday we went to Epcot, my favorite park. It's so worldly and cool. Good day.

So I decided to do a little Coke vs. Pepsi comparison: Disney World vs. Universal. WHO SHALL PREVAIL?????


Disney's Epcot: wide, flat, as far as the eye can see. Rows are numbered and grouped alphabetically and called cheesy, inspirational verbs and nouns such as "Discover," and "Journey." A tram takes you to the front gates.

Universal Orlando: giant parking garages, same labeling situation as above except no alphabetical order and instead of the corniest words of the English language they're named after cartoon charecters, such as "Spiderman," and "E.T." Escalators and moving sidewalks deposit you right at the entrance, with air conditioning.

THE WINNER OF THIS ROUND IS... Universal. Moving sidewalks are fun.


Disney's Epcot: pathways are wide, so crowds aren't so squishy. There's more place to be, and the signs are labeled well.

Universal Orlando: (Islands of Adventure) only one main artery, thin pathways, slippery when wet, NO ELBOW ROOM!

THE WINNER OF THIS ROUND IS... Epcot. Who wants to puke at be park, not because of the coasters but because of the crowds?


Disney's Epcot: pretty clean. No litter, garbage cans everywhere and aren't overflowing. Doesn't feel grimy.

Universal Orlando: your elbows get stuck to the tables in the food courts. Feels gross. Bathrooms smell like... Undescribable badness.

THE WINNER OF THIS ROUND IS... Epcot. I'm not a germaphobic, but if I'm gonna eat there, it better be clean.

So for me, Disney World is better. I didn't rate attractions or anything, but if I did, it would be a whole other story. (Or would it... WHAT DO YOU THINK??)

p.s. Yes, I know yesterday should have been a photobomb post, but it's impossible to get pictures on to apps, man, all these apps stink...

Thursday, December 16, 2010

TSA Agents are Mean

After a whole adventure in the app store looking for a good blogging app (Tumblr has one but not Blogger?? An OUTRAGE!), I finally found one I semi liked, which would explain why I'm not typing this up at home and why I am at Hartford/Bradely International Airport.

I just took this picture! I love technology!

Walking to the terminal, Frankie waving his bag to make the animation on the wall move.

A creepy Santa toy on the ground.

The only thing I hate about airports are the TSA agents. They do keep us safe, but they're rude. Well, if I had to pat down old men who didn't know that bringing Swiss Army knives on planes aren't allowed everyday, I'd be pretty grouchy too.

So after we checked in and were walking to security, I spotted a penny on the ground, heads up. I said to Frankie, "hey look a good luck penny! Let's take a pic--" And then this really jerky TSA guy comes up to me and says, "Just pick it up!" like, WTFN? (what the Fig Newtons)

This app isn't working, and we have to board soon anyway, so Ciao!

Monday, December 13, 2010

One Boss Year

Yesterday was... Guess? Guess? GUESS?

It was Francessca's blog birthday too a couple of posts ago, and she did this really cool post, which I asked her if I could copy, because I ABSOLUTELY LOVE this, so here it goes!

Diary of a Young Girl, by my idol, Anne Frank

Megamind. No joke. It was mega awesome.

That middle school was going to end soon enough and who the Fig Newtons care if I don't have a boyfriend, because I won't care when I'm married and have kids when I'm 40, was... last week.

Losing my ex-best friend. No, he didn't die. He just changed.

Do you even have to ask? ALGEBRA.

Photography! And Algebra!

That there's an "international" language called Esperanto (discovered yesterday).

My best friends, by a hundred thousand miles.


I'm just proud that I've stuck through with blogging for a whole year. I usually give up on things that don't come easy to me (i.e. Algebra [trying not to surrender yet though], karate, Wii, Guitar Hero, percents...), but I've been blogging for so long now it feels like second nature.
What I love about blogging the most is that it gives me a voice. My opinions get out there for the world to read. Instead of waiting for my poems to get published in those stupid teacher-run websites, all I have to do is press PUBLISH and BAM my voice is out there and ready to be heard.

A couple of weeks ago, before Algebra class started, Tyty and I were talking about blogging. The boy next to me said, "What do you blog about? Who cares what an 8th grade girl has to say?" The funny thing is that he is so insanely wrong. Because I have a way louder voice than he does, thanks to this blog, than his puny-little whiny not-gonna-change-anything voice. Then he asked me what the URL was, but I wouldn't give it to him because I told him that if he didn't care about what I had to say, he can't read it.

Moving awn. Maybe you noticed how up there it says "something new" for me is photography? Maybe you remember my photo blog? Well I came up with a way to mesh the two together: every Sunday I'll post my pictures in a "photobomb" post (I didn't make that up, I read it on Fashion Toast). So because Sunday was yesterday, today will be a photobomb!
My favorite ornament.
Frankie's favorite.
I know these are an insane amount of pictures, and a lot of them are lousy. But I'm trying, at least! I like photography because it enhances writing. A picture is worth a thousand words! (Ok Jen, stop with the over-used metaphors.)

A) I'm going to give out my own blog awards!
B) Sooner or later I'll post some old tags and awards!

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Miracle on a Suburban Street

I thought last night was going to be just ok. It was the opening night of Annie and then after that was the first dance of the year. Nothing spectacular. Except that everything that could go wrong, went wrong.

  1. Annie's dog ran off the stage in Tomorrow.
  2. A boy accidentally broke a glass plate and two light bulbs in Mrs. Smith's office, creating an ear-splitting, Tom-and-Jerry-esque noise that could most defiantly be heard in the audience
  3. All of my fellow maids and I laughed hysterically during I Think You're Gonna Like it Here
  4. I stopped laughing when I saw my dad sitting next to my Algebra teacher.
  5. FDR's wheelchair got stuck in the door, again.
  6. Everyone laughed in the final scene, Tomorrow reprise, and we sounded pretty silly.
But still, the show was great. Beyond great. After the bows, every cast member crammed backstage and the boys stampeded upstairs to the dressing room because it was their turn to change first. The girls were left in the green room, complaining, because were we supposed to get ready for the dance in time? The guys take for-evah. To answer this question I unbuckled my heels and tore them off so I could run upstairs in the knick of time and rip my pantyhose off.


WEE- OOH WEE-OOH WEE-OOH!! Lights were flashing, the sirens were screaming, but all of us stood motionless for a second, processing. Until we started panicking and shouting, "HOLY SHIZ THE FIRE ALARM IS GOING OFF!!!!" I could hear all the audience members' footsteps frantically pounding the ground outside the door. A junior, and the "kiddie wrangler," Bobbi, shouted to us, "EVERYBODY TO THE BACK PARKING LOT!!" Dani, Jos and I laughed as we flew down the tiny tiny corridor to the outside door, which led to a balcony that faced the back parking lot and the lower school courtyard (and I, of course, was barefoot, unless you count nude pantyhose. It was so crowded I couldn't grab my shoes again!). And guess what we find outside? Guess? IT WAS SNOWING, the most numbingly beautiful, silently sprinkling, softly falling snow I have ever seen.

All of the cast members and I galloped down the staircase and we poured into the courtyard. My feet froze on impact with the lightly dusted ground. We started singing Christmas carols, until the girl from the Halloween Drama post, Lee, laughingly stated, "We're singing Christmas carols and our school could be burning down right now." My feet were so numb that Justice offered me his shoes, and when I declined, told me that I had to sit on the fence. But I couldn't, I was just so excited and antsy.

Then came down Mr. A, our savior, who was going to back to the green room to grab jackets for us. I gripped him by the shoulders and said, "I. Need. Shoes." He looked down at my stockinged-feet and took his off and gave them to me, which I took, because my feet were beyond the freezing point now. My feet thawed on impact.

I don't really know what happened, but it felt like somebody had injected me with exuberant energy, and I realized how comic this whole thing was. The dog runs off the stage? Two light bulbs and a plate break? The fire alarm goes off and the whole cast has to run outside in the snow? It was just so strange.

It was obvious that someone had pulled the fire alarm, to be "funny," but I'm glad they did. Don't laugh at me, but what happened, to me at least, was magical. It really felt like the beginning of Christmas.

Soon the fire alarm went off, and everyone speedily herded upstairs. The girls invaded the dressing room before the boys could. Dani and I met up with Marg, who was worried sick. I changed, and together we ran outside to the top courtyard, briefly talked to my dad (who was also worried sick, I could tell by all of the missed calls on my phone), and just like last year, we ran across the courtyard, laughing and cheering our way to the dance, but this time with snow.

The theme was "black light," which meant that all of the light bulbs were replaced with the ones that make certain colors glow in the dark. Dani scribbled all over my hand in highlighter, and I, the worst dancer ever (worst than Bristol Palin, you know), pulled out all of my craziest moves (most of which I learned from the Wiggles). Tyty, who's actually a professional dancer, taught me some moves and before long I was groovin' and movin' and dancing.

It was a really great night. It was a miracle (ha ha get it?)
p.s. now that rehearsals are over, more posts are coming!
p.p.p.s I'm giving out blog awards in the next post!!

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Stranger DaAaAanger!

All my life-- and probably all of yours, too -- I've been told what to do in the event of "stranger danger." Never tell a stranger where you are, who you are, any personal information about yourself, bla bla bla, doh! If you're like me you probably take a trip to la la land whenever somebody is telling you all of this (really, how dumb do adults think we are?), but I'm glad I remembered some of it, because I had to put those skills to zee test on Friday night.

It was after a rehearsal. The campus was chilly and dark, with the softly moaning wind tickling the bare tree branches, sending my spinal cord into a tizzy. In other Stephen-King-less words, it was ominous.  I knew my mom was going to be a minute or two late because she had a seminar to go to that ended right around the time rehearsal ended. So I called my mom, just for, you know, so I didn't look stupid standing alone.

The phone rang. A voice on the other end, a Jersey-ish, flamboyant, deeper version of my mom's voice picked up. I said, "Uh.... Mom?"

Mystery Voice: Hell-oo? Hell-oo? Do you know who's phone this is?
Me: Uh... this is my mom's phone. Who is this?
Mystery Voice: This is Carrie (beeeeep). I found this phone at my seminar. What's the name of the person who owns it?
Me: Karen (beeeeep). She's my mom, and she's on her way to pick me up.
Carrie: Oh, well, how can I give this phone to her? Where are you now?

My brain cells froze over for a second, making a common Neanderthal expression we call uhhh come out of my mouth.

Me: Uh, how 'bout I call you back when she gets here?
Carrie: Sure, yeah, you can call me on -- wait, you can just call me on your mom's phone.
Me: Ok then, thanks.
Carrie: You were really smart not to tell me where you were, I'm sorry I asked that!
Me: Oh, uh, it's ok, no biggie. Stranger danger, right? Yeah, haha... uh...
Carrie: Ok, so I'll talk to you soon.
Me: Ok, bye.

Luckily for us Carrie was who she said she was. The moment I hung up with her my mom flew into the parking lot and we arranged to meet Carrie at a local restaurant to pick up my mom's phone.
Moral of the story is to always be on your toes. Carrie could have been a pyshco-mad-man who would have dived into his car the moment I told him where I was. And then I wouldn't be here to tell you this story. And if I didn't tell you this story you could get kidnapped and then you couldn't tell your story and then somebody else who you were going to tell your story to would get kidnapped and then before you knew it there would be no kids left to nap, and then they would start stealing the elderly from nursing homes. Yikes.

Nothing scary really did happen to me. I just used Thomas Paine's friend Common Sense to help me out. Common sense is like a superpower that everybody is born with. It's like that extra space in your brain scientists say that you can be all telekentic with. If you just stick with common sense, then you're pretty much safe. I'm just glad my mom got her cell phone back.
What do you guys think? Has anything stranger danger-ish happened to you before?
p.s. CHRISTMAS!! ALMOST HERE!! YAY!! and happy Hanukkah to those of you who celebrate it!!
p.p.s. the spelling bee was yesterday and I lost. surprise surprise!