My dad managed to fix the desktop computer (it'll be virus-ridden in at least a month) so I'm back again! I reall began to miss my blog and felt dead and useless these past few days. With graduation coming up on Thursday, I'm feeling rather fine but certainly not that excited because I'm already getting a taste of summer and it's sucking pretty hard ones. I don't want to become desperate and have to resort to more naughtyness...like...drawing on my wall with lipstick. That would be pretty fun but I would be DEAD.
For the past three days, I have been eating alot of watermelon and now I'm starting to feel like one! My parents have been making preparations for my graduation and everytime they make trips to H-E-B to buy foods for the party they come back with these big ass watermelons...then I feel obligated to eat more because it looks so yumilicious sitting there in this huge white bowl with its juices dripping out so enticingly.
Honestly, I don't want a party because parties are so self-indulgent and you pretty much end up wasting alot of money just for people to come eat, listen to music, and make a mess. That's kinda why I didn't have a quinceanera when I turned 15 but I was never THAT type of girl. Even now, as I am going to have a party, I didn't invite many people. Why? Because I'm also not one to consider aquaintances to be real friends. Still, there are alot of people I haven't invited yet that I would like to come but I guess I can tell them tonight via FB or just give them a heads up at graduation. As far as I know, I may only be going to two graduation parties since I'm quite the busy person and I have SO MANY tasks to complete...lies. Like I mentioned before, aquaintances are not true friends.
Right now, I would like to smack my brother because he keeps on asking me if I'm done and complaining that his Xbox connection only has "ONE FUCKING BAR!!!!!!!!!" but he can say whatever the hell he wants because I'm only going to stay online longer just to spite him. It's a good thing that my sister is gone right now too because she would probably be yelling "DIE STUPID BIRDS!!!" with that damn game that so many I know are obsessed with called Angry Birds.
My room and guitar are summoning me. This piece of shit computer better work to see tomorrow's blog. I won't be surprised if it dies right before I post this. *crosses fingers*
I have a blue little window and a blue Corvette (I wish),
Dina Starr
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
I may be getting sick...
Why does this always happen at during the last days of school!? I don't know if my immune system goes down due to apathy or the coming of summer blues but my body can be so inconvenient sometimes. Just like situations in which you get a bad case of hiccups right before you have to deliver a speech or those times when you get your period the day you're set to go on a trip. I call that bad luck and a shitty sense of humor on the body's part.
I feel achy and dehydrated right now. I'm like a dessicated cactus plant that has been uprooted by some sandstorm. My sister probably passed on her illness to me...she's sprawled across her bed trembling with a fever. I actually don't think I'm REALLY getting sick though. Her sickness vibes probably just were transmitted to me and as a result I am feeling this fictitious illness coming on. I don't know what it is but I feel really tired now that I want to ignore all these people on FB who are messaging me and go to sleep. But I can't because I love talking to people...why oh why...and I'm waiting for a call.
Thanks to Mr. Watkins, all today I thought about West Side Story and the scene where Tony and Maria sing "Tonight". Crap...can't it get the hell out of my head already?! There's no way I will go to sleep early. I want to miss school again but there's so much to do and this is the last week of high school for seniors so I SUPPOSE I ought to go...MUST...BE A...SENTIMENTAL...SAP! Not.
I don't even want to spend time being sarcastic right now. Good grief. I'm just going to get the whole gallon of water and drink it all myself...everyone else can drink apple juice and milk in the morning. Right now it's all about me and my water...fire fighter, bring me the hose...
Interpret as you wish,
Dina Starr
I feel achy and dehydrated right now. I'm like a dessicated cactus plant that has been uprooted by some sandstorm. My sister probably passed on her illness to me...she's sprawled across her bed trembling with a fever. I actually don't think I'm REALLY getting sick though. Her sickness vibes probably just were transmitted to me and as a result I am feeling this fictitious illness coming on. I don't know what it is but I feel really tired now that I want to ignore all these people on FB who are messaging me and go to sleep. But I can't because I love talking to people...why oh why...and I'm waiting for a call.
Thanks to Mr. Watkins, all today I thought about West Side Story and the scene where Tony and Maria sing "Tonight". Crap...can't it get the hell out of my head already?! There's no way I will go to sleep early. I want to miss school again but there's so much to do and this is the last week of high school for seniors so I SUPPOSE I ought to go...MUST...BE A...SENTIMENTAL...SAP! Not.
I don't even want to spend time being sarcastic right now. Good grief. I'm just going to get the whole gallon of water and drink it all myself...everyone else can drink apple juice and milk in the morning. Right now it's all about me and my water...fire fighter, bring me the hose...
Interpret as you wish,
Dina Starr
Monday, May 23, 2011
Nothing in my house ever works...including me.
Two months ago, I cracked the screen of my iTouch. Last week, I lost my phone and as a result have to use this old ghetto phone that my sister used a billion years ago. Its so shitty that its missing the back cover that holds the battery and I had to tape it up. When I finally came back home Saturday night from being at friend's houses and doing all sorts of other nonsense, my sister announced the death of my laptop. GREAT.
The laptop is actually working right now though because my dad figured out that it was the part of the laptop where the charger is connected that was messed up but it will probably randomly turn off while I type this...sigh. I've come to the conclusion that I should not be trusted with electronic devices or most other material possessions because putting them in my hands is just a recipe for disaster. Unfortunately, I'm so irresponsible with these things that I broke my brother's PSP only a few months after he bought it. This may well be a reflection of my personality, I know. I don't want to make some cheesy analogy between these broken items and myself to say that I'm a "broken" soul because I'm far from it.
Maybe it is my aggressiveness that makes me such a bad candidate for the possession of technological items. I think I often don't handle things with care and just bust out my inner Hulk instead of behaving in a calm and dignified manner. My handwriting also reflects this nature as well. You know how people say that girls often have noticably neat and bubbly handwriting? Well, I'm one of the few that writes worse than a preschooler. Some have even gone as far to say that my handwriting looks like Chinese...it really isn't THAT bad, I don't think.
My room is a disaster as well. If my mom wouldn't go into my room when I'm away to clean (and check out what kind of romantic letters are hidden behind my closet...yeah Mom, I know), my room would be a fort of papers covering the entire area, shielding me from the clear thoughts that wish they could occupy my mind. My book bag needs major help, but I've gotten better. It used to be so bad that in middle school and during my freshman year I'd get 0's on assignments because I couldn't find them in my extensive portfolio of garbage. The bag may as well have been called a BFI garbage disposal.
For as long as I have remembered, I have been the same scattered-brained, disorganized, way-too-outspoken (it at times seems as though I have no verbal filter), manic person. There must be something wrong with me. In fact, my depersonalization disorder may be a product of a bigger picture that I long ago failed to notice. In a way, I like being this way though.
It gives me more balls than some guys I know. There are a number of things wrong with each person in this world, especially me. Mother Earth doesn't cater much to the weak, now does it?
Not cleaning my room or book bag,
Dina Starr
The laptop is actually working right now though because my dad figured out that it was the part of the laptop where the charger is connected that was messed up but it will probably randomly turn off while I type this...sigh. I've come to the conclusion that I should not be trusted with electronic devices or most other material possessions because putting them in my hands is just a recipe for disaster. Unfortunately, I'm so irresponsible with these things that I broke my brother's PSP only a few months after he bought it. This may well be a reflection of my personality, I know. I don't want to make some cheesy analogy between these broken items and myself to say that I'm a "broken" soul because I'm far from it.
Maybe it is my aggressiveness that makes me such a bad candidate for the possession of technological items. I think I often don't handle things with care and just bust out my inner Hulk instead of behaving in a calm and dignified manner. My handwriting also reflects this nature as well. You know how people say that girls often have noticably neat and bubbly handwriting? Well, I'm one of the few that writes worse than a preschooler. Some have even gone as far to say that my handwriting looks like Chinese...it really isn't THAT bad, I don't think.
My room is a disaster as well. If my mom wouldn't go into my room when I'm away to clean (and check out what kind of romantic letters are hidden behind my closet...yeah Mom, I know), my room would be a fort of papers covering the entire area, shielding me from the clear thoughts that wish they could occupy my mind. My book bag needs major help, but I've gotten better. It used to be so bad that in middle school and during my freshman year I'd get 0's on assignments because I couldn't find them in my extensive portfolio of garbage. The bag may as well have been called a BFI garbage disposal.
For as long as I have remembered, I have been the same scattered-brained, disorganized, way-too-outspoken (it at times seems as though I have no verbal filter), manic person. There must be something wrong with me. In fact, my depersonalization disorder may be a product of a bigger picture that I long ago failed to notice. In a way, I like being this way though.
It gives me more balls than some guys I know. There are a number of things wrong with each person in this world, especially me. Mother Earth doesn't cater much to the weak, now does it?
Not cleaning my room or book bag,
Dina Starr
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Having no phone, getting dressed practically for nothing, and being too excited about operas.
My mom has always told me I am absent-minded. She was right for a long time until my sophomore year when I learned to be semi-responsible. Unfortunately for me, her words were true today when I LOST my cell phone! I have such a mess in my book bag that there may well be mold growing in there. I keep papers from first semester sometimes and don't bother to dump all the junk out until the end of the year. There had been times before that I thought I had lost my phone only to find it hiding under Mt. Spanish Literature but this time, I think it jumped over the mountain range and is now possibly lost somewhere between the prison walls of school.
I had never permanently lost my phone, until today. Last time, after having looked for it for two weeks to no avail, I found it under Mt. Creaky Bed, hiding in the corner covered by the ends of the bed spread. This time, I'm almost certain that it's long gone. Someone must've already picked it up, taken it home, and started making prank phone calls to Indonesia.
This afternoon, a baccalaureate service was held and my mom (like always) put too much thought into what I should wear underneath my gown. I tried explaining to her that I wasn't going to take off the gown yet she insisted upon buying me ANOTHER dress. Another dress? Was she freaking kidding me?! Stubborn as I am, I refused to put it on and told her to return it because I had another dress to wear. No one had ever seen me wear the dress and it didn't matter anyhow because it was going to be covered! When we got there, it took forever for all three high schools to get their students lined up and seated. The actual service took less time than the preparation. We were there for what seemed like 2 seconds. I probably could've shown up with shorts underneath my graduation gown for all anyone cared.
This evening, all I've done is listen to music from operas, especially Natalie Dessay's rendition of "Ombre Legere". Everytime I hear a coloratura soprano singer perform, I melt. I remember during my sophomore year I was fixated with the opera entitled "La Fille Du Regiment" and now I think the new music I'm falling in love with is that of the opera "Dinorah". I don't even know its storyline nor can I truely comprehend the lyrics but the pieces are amazing.
I think I'll listen to Dessay's voice for another two hours.
So enthralled I'm appalled,
Dina Starr
I had never permanently lost my phone, until today. Last time, after having looked for it for two weeks to no avail, I found it under Mt. Creaky Bed, hiding in the corner covered by the ends of the bed spread. This time, I'm almost certain that it's long gone. Someone must've already picked it up, taken it home, and started making prank phone calls to Indonesia.
This afternoon, a baccalaureate service was held and my mom (like always) put too much thought into what I should wear underneath my gown. I tried explaining to her that I wasn't going to take off the gown yet she insisted upon buying me ANOTHER dress. Another dress? Was she freaking kidding me?! Stubborn as I am, I refused to put it on and told her to return it because I had another dress to wear. No one had ever seen me wear the dress and it didn't matter anyhow because it was going to be covered! When we got there, it took forever for all three high schools to get their students lined up and seated. The actual service took less time than the preparation. We were there for what seemed like 2 seconds. I probably could've shown up with shorts underneath my graduation gown for all anyone cared.
This evening, all I've done is listen to music from operas, especially Natalie Dessay's rendition of "Ombre Legere". Everytime I hear a coloratura soprano singer perform, I melt. I remember during my sophomore year I was fixated with the opera entitled "La Fille Du Regiment" and now I think the new music I'm falling in love with is that of the opera "Dinorah". I don't even know its storyline nor can I truely comprehend the lyrics but the pieces are amazing.
I think I'll listen to Dessay's voice for another two hours.
So enthralled I'm appalled,
Dina Starr
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Long talks.
Today was a beautiful day of domino playing during AP Stats. I just hate myself for becoming so obsessed with the game! Other than that, something I did today made me feel like I was in middle school all over again: talking to a friend for and extended period of time on skype.
In middle school, I remember spending countless hours chatting over the phone about petty nothingness with treacherous bffs who called me to talk bad about eachother (they probably called eachother to talk about me too) and rebellious, metal head, high school boys who couldn't pass Algebra I. Why I continued such friendships with the people I just described is beyond me. I wanted to be a rotten little apple, I'm sure.
I logged onto skype a little earlier today than usual and chatted seemingly incessantly with Ben Nuzzo. The funny thing is that I had not comunicated much with him on the Harvard Class of 2015 group or simply on FB chat but once we first talked on Sunday, he seemed like a pretty cool bean so we talked yesterday for some time and today for about four hours. Besides him being funny and witty, he is also honest and courteous too...especially for situations involving blouses that go down and begin to expose too much. If you understood what I was saying there, great. If not, get an imagination.
We got off not too long ago and after the conversation, I felt like I was thirteen again. Lately, I've been too nostalgic for my own good but I loved it because I had not done such a long talking session since the days I was at Garcia Middle School getting into fights with girls that used glitter glue as eyeshadow. Who knew that cheap hoes were created at such an early age? Oh, the people in the Maury show probably would be aware of such concepts.
For a while last year, I tried to imagine what my life would be like if I became who I used to be: that punk rock/goth girl with raccoon eye makeup and too many piercings. I tried recreating the look and realized that I can no longer pull it off without people thinking I was trying to be some sort of late blooming hipster. No. My current identity begs to stay.
But if there was something I learned about today's conversation with Ben, it would be that I should take life less seriously and let my poor deprived little soul go wild. But if I behaved with other people the way I do on chats with Ben, I'm sure a portion of the people who respect me now would be in awe. Sorry, I was born to be wild. In all honesty, I'm a good person, really I am...but I'm like the Jabberwocky with the jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!
Dina Starr
In middle school, I remember spending countless hours chatting over the phone about petty nothingness with treacherous bffs who called me to talk bad about eachother (they probably called eachother to talk about me too) and rebellious, metal head, high school boys who couldn't pass Algebra I. Why I continued such friendships with the people I just described is beyond me. I wanted to be a rotten little apple, I'm sure.
I logged onto skype a little earlier today than usual and chatted seemingly incessantly with Ben Nuzzo. The funny thing is that I had not comunicated much with him on the Harvard Class of 2015 group or simply on FB chat but once we first talked on Sunday, he seemed like a pretty cool bean so we talked yesterday for some time and today for about four hours. Besides him being funny and witty, he is also honest and courteous too...especially for situations involving blouses that go down and begin to expose too much. If you understood what I was saying there, great. If not, get an imagination.
We got off not too long ago and after the conversation, I felt like I was thirteen again. Lately, I've been too nostalgic for my own good but I loved it because I had not done such a long talking session since the days I was at Garcia Middle School getting into fights with girls that used glitter glue as eyeshadow. Who knew that cheap hoes were created at such an early age? Oh, the people in the Maury show probably would be aware of such concepts.
For a while last year, I tried to imagine what my life would be like if I became who I used to be: that punk rock/goth girl with raccoon eye makeup and too many piercings. I tried recreating the look and realized that I can no longer pull it off without people thinking I was trying to be some sort of late blooming hipster. No. My current identity begs to stay.
But if there was something I learned about today's conversation with Ben, it would be that I should take life less seriously and let my poor deprived little soul go wild. But if I behaved with other people the way I do on chats with Ben, I'm sure a portion of the people who respect me now would be in awe. Sorry, I was born to be wild. In all honesty, I'm a good person, really I am...but I'm like the Jabberwocky with the jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!
Dina Starr
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Cannot believe I ate Burger King today...thanks, Dad.
All this week, I've been feeling full and complaining about how I have eaten excessively. Ironically, instead of eating less this weekend, I actually ate more with the help of my dad's bad eating habits! Every Sunday, my dad has the day off and in the morning he usually brings breakfast tacos from El Patio. I actually really like them but the problem is that they are made with flour tortillas which can be fattening and make you bloated. I should've known from all the years that I've eaten those tacos that my stomach was going to feel balloon-like and disgusting but no...I just HAD to eat it because I can't say no to good food.
The one that I don't understand is my failure to say no to Burger King. My sister called my dad saying that she, my brother, and I were hungry and my dad said he would bring something to eat. I wasn't even hungry but was already making myself two slices of toast bread to eat for dinner cause the fridge was empty, like always. After she called, I ended up not eating the bread and got mad because it seems that everytime I'm going to make food, my parents bring me some! It never fails to turn out that way! But when my dad showed up with Burger King, I felt my thighs automatically grow ten more inches in diameter.
I know that it is partially my fault because no one FORCED me to put the food in my mouth but I can't just leave the food there...that would be rude. Plus, no one else in my family would eat a veggie burger (that's the only good thing about BK...they have vegetarian options but their food is still shit fried in hot oil). So I ate it with the cold greasy fries that came with it (they must've been sitting out for a good while because they were soggier than my ass) and I happily slurped up my gargantuan Diet Coke (apparently, it was a medium sized drink but if it were up to me, I'd call it an OBESE sized cup of death...especially if it were filled with Dr. Pepper or any other sugary drink).
If it weren't for my thunder thighs, maybe I wouldn't have given a crap about eating that junk. Unfortunately, having an almost dormant, perhaps even nonexistent, metabolism, I gain about 20 pounds just from breating in air so you can't even imagine how vicious a little gram of saturated fat can be on me...especially on my thighs and ass...oh lord. I'm not gonna worry though cause at least I know that I will be able to survive longer during a period of famine with all my stored junkkkkkkkkk. Take that, anorexia!
I can't believe I spent all day online...my eyes are slowly melting with the radiation of the computer. Ew, i just got a mental image of that happening. I'll be off to go watch the news. I'm sure there's been more murders occurring lately with all this drug violence going on at the border. Hide your kids, hide your wife...get the reference?
The Burger Queen (vomits at the thought),
Dina Starr
The one that I don't understand is my failure to say no to Burger King. My sister called my dad saying that she, my brother, and I were hungry and my dad said he would bring something to eat. I wasn't even hungry but was already making myself two slices of toast bread to eat for dinner cause the fridge was empty, like always. After she called, I ended up not eating the bread and got mad because it seems that everytime I'm going to make food, my parents bring me some! It never fails to turn out that way! But when my dad showed up with Burger King, I felt my thighs automatically grow ten more inches in diameter.
I know that it is partially my fault because no one FORCED me to put the food in my mouth but I can't just leave the food there...that would be rude. Plus, no one else in my family would eat a veggie burger (that's the only good thing about BK...they have vegetarian options but their food is still shit fried in hot oil). So I ate it with the cold greasy fries that came with it (they must've been sitting out for a good while because they were soggier than my ass) and I happily slurped up my gargantuan Diet Coke (apparently, it was a medium sized drink but if it were up to me, I'd call it an OBESE sized cup of death...especially if it were filled with Dr. Pepper or any other sugary drink).
If it weren't for my thunder thighs, maybe I wouldn't have given a crap about eating that junk. Unfortunately, having an almost dormant, perhaps even nonexistent, metabolism, I gain about 20 pounds just from breating in air so you can't even imagine how vicious a little gram of saturated fat can be on me...especially on my thighs and ass...oh lord. I'm not gonna worry though cause at least I know that I will be able to survive longer during a period of famine with all my stored junkkkkkkkkk. Take that, anorexia!
I can't believe I spent all day online...my eyes are slowly melting with the radiation of the computer. Ew, i just got a mental image of that happening. I'll be off to go watch the news. I'm sure there's been more murders occurring lately with all this drug violence going on at the border. Hide your kids, hide your wife...get the reference?
The Burger Queen (vomits at the thought),
Dina Starr
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Mommy dearest...
Like an old granny, I'm already cranky from not having already slept. I had the longest day ever with the Norms (my mom) and she wore me out. We took FOREVER at Bed Bath and Beyond looking for some stupid rugs and she ended up walking out with nothing. Then at Michael's I can't even remember what we were looking for there but my mom was acting OK until we went to Lowe's.
God, the Lucky Charms dude, and the Keebler's elves know how much I loathe that stupid place. I kid you not, my mom and I spent at least an hour outside in their garden section looking for these random flowers that my mom couldn't even remember the names of. Then, after having to load all the little pots into the cart, she decides she doesn't want them. WTF. It apparently was my fault that she ended up not buying them because I always discourage her with my indifference. This time, I actually was encouraging her and trying to make her buy them so that we wouldn't waste more time debating whether heathers would go with those other crappy yellow flowers that she wanted to buy. They were actually very pretty but that's besides the point.
We then made a stop at Kohl's where she continued on her hunt for bedroom rugs. She was so picky about color that anything even slightly off the shade she wanted was simply wrong to her. We argued about how we should never go shopping together (the usual...we always shop together anyway) and then I went home to spend an insane amount of time looking for scholarships on the computer. I was at first somewhat happy to be finding all these great scholarship opportunities until I remembered that the scholarships can only cover the cost of my required student contribution and after it exceeds that amount the rest of the money I receive from outside sources will be used in place of my Harvard scholarship...eh.
At around 9:00 p.m. I went to my grandma's house, called her dog by its wrong name (I always knew that his name was Peewee but for some reason I was calling him Bruno), watched some news on Univision, watched Sabado Gigante, and went home still full from the oatmeal I had eaten at 5 o'clock.
I want to sleep but I have to wait till Toshi gets home so that I can call him...he should just talk to himself before he takes a nap because I'm probably gonna be an asshole and get frustrated while we're talking since all I'm going to be thinking about is sleep. Nah, I need to stop being so mean to people who tolerate my tantrums. Besides, I actually kinda want to talk on the phone for a while now. Just a while...until my eyes close and my inner Godzilla takes over.
Kind heartedly *insert evil cackle*,
Dina Starr
God, the Lucky Charms dude, and the Keebler's elves know how much I loathe that stupid place. I kid you not, my mom and I spent at least an hour outside in their garden section looking for these random flowers that my mom couldn't even remember the names of. Then, after having to load all the little pots into the cart, she decides she doesn't want them. WTF. It apparently was my fault that she ended up not buying them because I always discourage her with my indifference. This time, I actually was encouraging her and trying to make her buy them so that we wouldn't waste more time debating whether heathers would go with those other crappy yellow flowers that she wanted to buy. They were actually very pretty but that's besides the point.
We then made a stop at Kohl's where she continued on her hunt for bedroom rugs. She was so picky about color that anything even slightly off the shade she wanted was simply wrong to her. We argued about how we should never go shopping together (the usual...we always shop together anyway) and then I went home to spend an insane amount of time looking for scholarships on the computer. I was at first somewhat happy to be finding all these great scholarship opportunities until I remembered that the scholarships can only cover the cost of my required student contribution and after it exceeds that amount the rest of the money I receive from outside sources will be used in place of my Harvard scholarship...eh.
At around 9:00 p.m. I went to my grandma's house, called her dog by its wrong name (I always knew that his name was Peewee but for some reason I was calling him Bruno), watched some news on Univision, watched Sabado Gigante, and went home still full from the oatmeal I had eaten at 5 o'clock.
I want to sleep but I have to wait till Toshi gets home so that I can call him...he should just talk to himself before he takes a nap because I'm probably gonna be an asshole and get frustrated while we're talking since all I'm going to be thinking about is sleep. Nah, I need to stop being so mean to people who tolerate my tantrums. Besides, I actually kinda want to talk on the phone for a while now. Just a while...until my eyes close and my inner Godzilla takes over.
Kind heartedly *insert evil cackle*,
Dina Starr
Friday, May 13, 2011
Glad to be back...but a bit emo?
For two days, Blogger was doing some maintenance which prevented me from posting my blogs. But now I'm back and covered in make up...yup I had my mariachi concert today. I probably have about a pound of eyeshadow on and feel extremely unnatrual but alot of people actually liked it and in a sense, I do as well, but that's only because it's fun to change up looks. The mariachi performance went well and afterwards I went to El Patio to eat cheese enchiladas with rice and beans because I was super hungry!
Today was also the day that two scholarships were due and I somehow managed to complete them on time. I, of course, wrote an essay for one of them during school a few hours before it was due. After I typed the last line of the essay, I teared up. No, the tears didn't come from the happiness I felt after completing the application, rather it came from the content I wrote. I'm finally realizing how much happier yet more difficult these past four years have been than I initially though. It's ending and I'm a tad disappointed that I don't feel as relieved as I thought I would. I guess it's just a part of my character; I think too much.
I feel that throughout high school I isolated myself from people and did not spend enough time enjoying life. This is actually a little ironic considering that alot of people know me as being a huge extrovert but my situation is almost paradoxical; my physical being is the extrovert while my mind is confined in its own prison. I know that now is not the time to try to feel bad about all the petty yet fun memories that I missed out on making during high school but I can't shake this feeling of unsatisfaction.
This is just a temporary state, I know. People often think that I am always positive and that nothing fazes me. Their sentiments may be right in some cases but I am human, too. Some things really gnaw at my bones till I feel so much regret and resentment towards myself. Sometimes, though, I don't even feel...human.
Tomorrow will be better, it always is,
Dina Starr
Today was also the day that two scholarships were due and I somehow managed to complete them on time. I, of course, wrote an essay for one of them during school a few hours before it was due. After I typed the last line of the essay, I teared up. No, the tears didn't come from the happiness I felt after completing the application, rather it came from the content I wrote. I'm finally realizing how much happier yet more difficult these past four years have been than I initially though. It's ending and I'm a tad disappointed that I don't feel as relieved as I thought I would. I guess it's just a part of my character; I think too much.
I feel that throughout high school I isolated myself from people and did not spend enough time enjoying life. This is actually a little ironic considering that alot of people know me as being a huge extrovert but my situation is almost paradoxical; my physical being is the extrovert while my mind is confined in its own prison. I know that now is not the time to try to feel bad about all the petty yet fun memories that I missed out on making during high school but I can't shake this feeling of unsatisfaction.
This is just a temporary state, I know. People often think that I am always positive and that nothing fazes me. Their sentiments may be right in some cases but I am human, too. Some things really gnaw at my bones till I feel so much regret and resentment towards myself. Sometimes, though, I don't even feel...human.
Tomorrow will be better, it always is,
Dina Starr
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Piñata stenches and the allergy soliloquy.
By the end of the day, my neurons have been stripped to shreds like string cheese and I am dead as a duck (Chicago reference anyone?). Now that I have mentioned cheese, I would like to share the story of how I nearly lost my sense of smell after having to endure the RANKNESS of what my last class offered us today.
As mentioned, by the time I'm in my last class, Spanish, I usually am on dormant mode. Yeah, I take a language I was born fluent in but it's a class for Spanish speakers. So NO...I'm not that much of a slacker...I just didn't wanna take French which does not interest me at all and is the only other foreign language option at school. Anyhow, unlike most days, today I was rudely awaken by this PUNGENT DEADLY STENCH!!
I walk into the class and am silenced by this smell resembling that of a mixture of vomit, perfume (probably sprayed to mask the stench), rotten cheese, and pig excretions. I looked around the room wondering if anyone else had picked up on the strange odor and I must've had a really disgusted look on my face because one of the girls in my class laughed and pointed at the board which read:
"Huele Feo" - Spanish for "It smells ugly"
As each person walked into the classroom, they complained and made gagging noises while the rest of us who had already been inside for a few minutes covered our noses with our shirts. I swear I had not smelled such nastiness since we disected that icky preserved pig fetus in biology. What on earth had died, been revived, and died yet again in our classroom?!
My Spanish teacher's English speaking class had been making piñatas to learn about Mexican culture (here's a wikipedia link for those of you who are not familiar with what I am talking about http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pi%C3%B1ata) so they were pasting the newspaper onto the balloons today with the flour and water paste. Unfortunately, my teacher had left the mixture contained for a few days (I believe) and it began to ROT. Not wanting to slow her class' piñata-making process, she ignored the smell and implored her students to use it anyway. Since we continued to gripe about the smell, she allowed us to step outside and take the wet balloons with us so that they could dry in the toasty (more like firey) Texas heat. Thankfully, it was a windy day but there were a few instances that I caught a whiff of the stench and I wanted to puke.
Strangely, the rotten paste incident made the class a little exciting today since I didn't stay in my desk for the whole 90 minutes (my teacher is a stickler so you don't do much moving around in there).
Oh, I forgot to post this the last time I was complaining about Hamlet. We were suppose to write our own parody of the "To be or not to be" soliloquy so I will conclude this entry with it...here it is:
As mentioned, by the time I'm in my last class, Spanish, I usually am on dormant mode. Yeah, I take a language I was born fluent in but it's a class for Spanish speakers. So NO...I'm not that much of a slacker...I just didn't wanna take French which does not interest me at all and is the only other foreign language option at school. Anyhow, unlike most days, today I was rudely awaken by this PUNGENT DEADLY STENCH!!
I walk into the class and am silenced by this smell resembling that of a mixture of vomit, perfume (probably sprayed to mask the stench), rotten cheese, and pig excretions. I looked around the room wondering if anyone else had picked up on the strange odor and I must've had a really disgusted look on my face because one of the girls in my class laughed and pointed at the board which read:
"Huele Feo" - Spanish for "It smells ugly"
As each person walked into the classroom, they complained and made gagging noises while the rest of us who had already been inside for a few minutes covered our noses with our shirts. I swear I had not smelled such nastiness since we disected that icky preserved pig fetus in biology. What on earth had died, been revived, and died yet again in our classroom?!
My Spanish teacher's English speaking class had been making piñatas to learn about Mexican culture (here's a wikipedia link for those of you who are not familiar with what I am talking about http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pi%C3%B1ata) so they were pasting the newspaper onto the balloons today with the flour and water paste. Unfortunately, my teacher had left the mixture contained for a few days (I believe) and it began to ROT. Not wanting to slow her class' piñata-making process, she ignored the smell and implored her students to use it anyway. Since we continued to gripe about the smell, she allowed us to step outside and take the wet balloons with us so that they could dry in the toasty (more like firey) Texas heat. Thankfully, it was a windy day but there were a few instances that I caught a whiff of the stench and I wanted to puke.
Strangely, the rotten paste incident made the class a little exciting today since I didn't stay in my desk for the whole 90 minutes (my teacher is a stickler so you don't do much moving around in there).
Oh, I forgot to post this the last time I was complaining about Hamlet. We were suppose to write our own parody of the "To be or not to be" soliloquy so I will conclude this entry with it...here it is:
The Allergy Soliloquy
To sneeze, or not to sneeze? That is the question
Whether 'tis acceptable at the dinner table to emit
The gross and icky germs of a cold,
Or to instead preserve our good manners before the guests
And by holding the sneeze, create sinus pressure? To sneeze
To release,-no more- and by a sneeze to say we diminish
The watery eyes and the power of the metaphorical feathers
That tickle our noses-'tis a concept that welcomes
A sigh of relief! To sneeze, to release.
To release, perchance to breathe once more- ay, there's the key
For in that the release of little histamine agitators,
When we take our subsequent whiff of fresh air,
We must pause. There's the sea of onlookers
That is silenced in disgust at one's failure to cover one's mouth.
Foxtrot uniform Charlie kilo,
(YouTube the statement above)
Dina Starr
Monday, May 9, 2011
I had almost forgotten what sleep deprivation felt like.
Last night I sadly couldn't blog because I spent all day, night and a portion of today (I stayed up till about 3:00 a.m.) working on my Hamlet homework and memorizing his extremely boring and overdone soliloquy. After taking another irksome test, my day went down hill from there.
I swear I was seeing double by the time lunch time came around. Elizabeth was taking the AP Physics exam today so at lunch I sat alone. Yeah, call me a loser. I never bothered to sit with anyone else during lunch so that's what happens. In the past, I would feel extremely embarrassed to be sitting alone but now if I do it, I go unfazed because chances are that no one even really noticed and though SOME people make think so, the world doesn't revolve around ourselves. Besides, I couldn't care less now if someone thought I had no friends.
After my uneventful lunch, I layed down on a bench in front of the school and felt the deadly radiation of the sun...it was quite nice. When I entered fourth block, I got this massive headache that made me want to puke. It was persistent in making me feel like I was getting cranial cramps...and I'm almost certain that there is no medical symptom that is called "cranial cramps". I think there ought to be since that is essentially what headaches are.
This evening, at the Super Acheivers Banquet (Top 10 Banquet), I was suppose to say a speech and was completely unprepared in that I had not given one single thought to what I planned on saying. See, I usually do this because 1) I'm lazy and 2) I don't like having to read speeches because then it doesn't have the same effect as when you are saying it off the top of your head while keeping your eyes on the audience.
So when they called my name up to the podium, I was eating the dessert (a chocolate cake that is not faring well with my digestive system at the moment) and I automatically could not swallow the piece I had put into my mouth because I really was that nervous. When I began saying my speech though, the words kinda started to spew out...like word vomit only not at all like the word vomit incidents described in Mean Girls.
I was pleased with the outcome of tonight and seeing everyone in the top 10 together all looking prettyful.
The only crappy thing is that my head still hurts and the chocolate syrup from the cake I ate is probably gonna give me a bad case of the runs. Sorry if that's TMI (too much information for you acronym illiterate hobbits) but if it is, you should really get with the program...YES...having a working digestive system is NORMAL.
Tonight, I'm hoping for some better sleep than that of yesterday so that means less FB group postings. Maybe I'll sleep right after I post this...
Not-at-all-alert,
Dina Starr
I swear I was seeing double by the time lunch time came around. Elizabeth was taking the AP Physics exam today so at lunch I sat alone. Yeah, call me a loser. I never bothered to sit with anyone else during lunch so that's what happens. In the past, I would feel extremely embarrassed to be sitting alone but now if I do it, I go unfazed because chances are that no one even really noticed and though SOME people make think so, the world doesn't revolve around ourselves. Besides, I couldn't care less now if someone thought I had no friends.
After my uneventful lunch, I layed down on a bench in front of the school and felt the deadly radiation of the sun...it was quite nice. When I entered fourth block, I got this massive headache that made me want to puke. It was persistent in making me feel like I was getting cranial cramps...and I'm almost certain that there is no medical symptom that is called "cranial cramps". I think there ought to be since that is essentially what headaches are.
This evening, at the Super Acheivers Banquet (Top 10 Banquet), I was suppose to say a speech and was completely unprepared in that I had not given one single thought to what I planned on saying. See, I usually do this because 1) I'm lazy and 2) I don't like having to read speeches because then it doesn't have the same effect as when you are saying it off the top of your head while keeping your eyes on the audience.
So when they called my name up to the podium, I was eating the dessert (a chocolate cake that is not faring well with my digestive system at the moment) and I automatically could not swallow the piece I had put into my mouth because I really was that nervous. When I began saying my speech though, the words kinda started to spew out...like word vomit only not at all like the word vomit incidents described in Mean Girls.
I was pleased with the outcome of tonight and seeing everyone in the top 10 together all looking prettyful.
The only crappy thing is that my head still hurts and the chocolate syrup from the cake I ate is probably gonna give me a bad case of the runs. Sorry if that's TMI (too much information for you acronym illiterate hobbits) but if it is, you should really get with the program...YES...having a working digestive system is NORMAL.
Tonight, I'm hoping for some better sleep than that of yesterday so that means less FB group postings. Maybe I'll sleep right after I post this...
Not-at-all-alert,
Dina Starr
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Harry Potter translated into Latin...no, I'm not shitting you.
While having a lovely conversation with Odessa, we began to discuss languages. She, self-taught in portuguese and I, as a self-taught in Latin, conversed about several aspects of the languages and I mentioned that I wanted more practice reading long passages. Of course, I could resort to trying to decode The Metamorphoses or The Aeneid on my own but I simply won't because I'm pretty much not that good.
She then had a brilliant suggestion: Why not try reading Harry Potter in Latin?
I at first thought that it would be amazing if there was a Latin translation out there but I thought it would be nearly impossible to locate such a version as it, as I originally imagined, probably didn't exist.
When Odessa suddenly stopped messaging me on FB (that meanie...nah...I know your mom is probably getting after you for acting like a burro sin mecate lol joking) I got on my laptop, entered the Amazon website and typed in "Harry Potter Latin" in the search box.
To my surprise, I actually found some of the Harry Potter books...in LATIN! Even more surprising, I stumbled upon an Ancient Greek version..Harry Potter in Classical languages...imagine that!
So for you Harry Potter and Classics lovers out there, get your copy.
Other than that, I stayed at home all day reading and doing work for Hamlet so I'm a bit on zombie mode right now. I have to continue with that shit so I'm gonna skip on out from this beastily laptop and set my mind to some extensively shitty homework. While I do that, I get to smell the rancidity that is boiled eggs...my mom is making potato salad...ew.
It's 11:11,
Dina Starr
She then had a brilliant suggestion: Why not try reading Harry Potter in Latin?
I at first thought that it would be amazing if there was a Latin translation out there but I thought it would be nearly impossible to locate such a version as it, as I originally imagined, probably didn't exist.
When Odessa suddenly stopped messaging me on FB (that meanie...nah...I know your mom is probably getting after you for acting like a burro sin mecate lol joking) I got on my laptop, entered the Amazon website and typed in "Harry Potter Latin" in the search box.
To my surprise, I actually found some of the Harry Potter books...in LATIN! Even more surprising, I stumbled upon an Ancient Greek version..Harry Potter in Classical languages...imagine that!
So for you Harry Potter and Classics lovers out there, get your copy.
Other than that, I stayed at home all day reading and doing work for Hamlet so I'm a bit on zombie mode right now. I have to continue with that shit so I'm gonna skip on out from this beastily laptop and set my mind to some extensively shitty homework. While I do that, I get to smell the rancidity that is boiled eggs...my mom is making potato salad...ew.
It's 11:11,
Dina Starr
Friday, May 6, 2011
So I didn't go to prom today...whoopppppdeeeeedooooooo.
Everyone tried to convince me to go to prom cause they thought I'd regret it since it's my senior year. I, as stubborn as I am, persisted as a member of the anti-prom mass, complaining about the ridiculous entrance price ($80...who the hell do they think I am...Bill Gates?), the cost of the dress, and the opportunity cost involving a trade off of going to prom while wasting valuable time that can be spent more productively on activities like studying from my Cambridge Latin textbooks and hanging out at the convention center...watching the people who went to prom taking pictures...and noticing the random couple parked in the lot doing who knows what...
Alright, perhaps I shouldn't have been cheap. But when you're living off your parents and you have already put them through enough financial hardship with all your education, leisure, and fashion shenanigans, I think it's only fair that you refrain from figuratively putting their money in the shredder as you laugh your way to some sketchy prom after party that you probably shouldn't be at.
Something I noticed about the people that go to prom is that they only can be classified into two groups: people who are dating and girls who had no dates so they showed up with the rest of their girlfriends. So if you're a girl like me who looks for relationships that are complicated and you don't wanna be one of those girls (exluding lesbians and bi girls in homosexual relationships) that uses their girlfriends as their "dates" then guess what? You're SOL buddy...SHIT OUTTA LUCK.
I'm not an antisocial person. I just am simply anti...yes, plain ol' "anti". It seems that the more people overhype things, the more I want to be sure that I have nothing to do with that pop culture movement. No, I'm also not some crazed hipster who is an all around...oh what's the word....EXTREMIST...but I just get so easily annoyed by people pouring their hearts and souls into trivial matters. Yeah sure, this blog is pretty freaking trivial too...but you don't see me saying that my best part of the day is the time when I write a new entry...that would actually be hilariously pathetic.
In the end though, no matter how much we debate it, humans can never know the true reason of their existence. People always try to explain it with religion which is fine but religion is based on faith alone and we therefore don't know the true motive of our creator...whoever he/she/it may be. To get to the heart of this mini paragraph, life is essentially a bucket list full of frivoulous activities. We just need to find which infinetismal things actually move us and feed our souls.
Tonight, it's pretty obvious that prom wasn't one of those "frivolous" events that made my peculiar little soul catch fire.
Inwardly reflecting,
Dina Starr
Alright, perhaps I shouldn't have been cheap. But when you're living off your parents and you have already put them through enough financial hardship with all your education, leisure, and fashion shenanigans, I think it's only fair that you refrain from figuratively putting their money in the shredder as you laugh your way to some sketchy prom after party that you probably shouldn't be at.
Something I noticed about the people that go to prom is that they only can be classified into two groups: people who are dating and girls who had no dates so they showed up with the rest of their girlfriends. So if you're a girl like me who looks for relationships that are complicated and you don't wanna be one of those girls (exluding lesbians and bi girls in homosexual relationships) that uses their girlfriends as their "dates" then guess what? You're SOL buddy...SHIT OUTTA LUCK.
I'm not an antisocial person. I just am simply anti...yes, plain ol' "anti". It seems that the more people overhype things, the more I want to be sure that I have nothing to do with that pop culture movement. No, I'm also not some crazed hipster who is an all around...oh what's the word....EXTREMIST...but I just get so easily annoyed by people pouring their hearts and souls into trivial matters. Yeah sure, this blog is pretty freaking trivial too...but you don't see me saying that my best part of the day is the time when I write a new entry...that would actually be hilariously pathetic.
In the end though, no matter how much we debate it, humans can never know the true reason of their existence. People always try to explain it with religion which is fine but religion is based on faith alone and we therefore don't know the true motive of our creator...whoever he/she/it may be. To get to the heart of this mini paragraph, life is essentially a bucket list full of frivoulous activities. We just need to find which infinetismal things actually move us and feed our souls.
Tonight, it's pretty obvious that prom wasn't one of those "frivolous" events that made my peculiar little soul catch fire.
Inwardly reflecting,
Dina Starr
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
Starrs and guitars.
Since I was about 9 years old, I have played the guitar. Believe me, I fought tooth and nail with my parents about this, complaining about how I rather would've learned to play piano. I evidently lost the battle and was forced to take guitar lessons. Even after being a pain in the ass to my guitar teacher, Frank, when I was 13 I stopped taking lessons and began to appreciate the instrument and its usefulness.
Every holiday gathering and opportunity I got to perform in front of people, my parents would beg me to pick up my guitar to play and sing some music. With much resistance though being guilted into appeasing them, I would perform a few songs while I died slowly due to the intense embarrassment.
I've never been the type of person who enjoys being put on the spot (who is anyway?) but there was something I really liked about my guitar: improvisational songwriting.
In middle school, I enjoyed taking my guitar to perform songs I made up at the top of my head. The songs were never serious and consisted of cheesy lyrics that either mocked certain people, ideas that I deemed laughable, or were my own parodies of current popular songs. I'm sure some found me obnoxious but I couldn't give a shit when most were amused with what I had to say.
More than anything, though, I just love real performance. Once high school came along, there was not really room for me and my guitar and it actually was (to hyperbolize the situation) a bit tragic. This is the first year our school has a formal mariachi class but in all honesty, we have really not performed much and there is more left to be desired. Tomorrow, we are going to have a performance for cinco de mayo and I'm actually pretty glad about it but it really isn't that big of a deal.
In the past, people knew who I was because of music. Now, only a few people know I play guitar and most are surprised to hear I sing, too. Sometimes I feel like I have been put on mute. Someone give me a goddamn microphone, a venue, and lets tear the place apart.
Looking for my voice,
Dina Starr
Every holiday gathering and opportunity I got to perform in front of people, my parents would beg me to pick up my guitar to play and sing some music. With much resistance though being guilted into appeasing them, I would perform a few songs while I died slowly due to the intense embarrassment.
I've never been the type of person who enjoys being put on the spot (who is anyway?) but there was something I really liked about my guitar: improvisational songwriting.
In middle school, I enjoyed taking my guitar to perform songs I made up at the top of my head. The songs were never serious and consisted of cheesy lyrics that either mocked certain people, ideas that I deemed laughable, or were my own parodies of current popular songs. I'm sure some found me obnoxious but I couldn't give a shit when most were amused with what I had to say.
More than anything, though, I just love real performance. Once high school came along, there was not really room for me and my guitar and it actually was (to hyperbolize the situation) a bit tragic. This is the first year our school has a formal mariachi class but in all honesty, we have really not performed much and there is more left to be desired. Tomorrow, we are going to have a performance for cinco de mayo and I'm actually pretty glad about it but it really isn't that big of a deal.
In the past, people knew who I was because of music. Now, only a few people know I play guitar and most are surprised to hear I sing, too. Sometimes I feel like I have been put on mute. Someone give me a goddamn microphone, a venue, and lets tear the place apart.
Looking for my voice,
Dina Starr
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
Being idle and the discomfort of others pointing it out to you.
I took the Spanish AP exam today and it was probably the easiest exam I will ever take, especially considering this is the last AP year. I don't even care about my scores though because it's not like I'm gonna try for advanced standing or anything. As a result of school wrapping up and the stagnant state of school activities, I have found myself being a little less productive than I would like to be. It also appears that my mom is not at all pleased with my idleness either.
I can't remember exactly what she told me but she said something to this effect but in Spanish:
"Why are you doing nothing? It's like you're at a standstill."
WHAT? AT A STANDSTILL?!
Ok, so first you complain that I'm always doing homework and then you get after me when I finally have the chance to lay around like a slob? Not cool, Normies, not cool.
By the way, I usually (but not always) call my mom by her first name (which is Norma) but I normally call her Normies...I like the way that sounds...normally Normies. That's besides the point. My point is that after she said this I felt like a lifeless loser. Fine, I don't have a life...but I AM NOT a loser! Hmmmm...
Kidding. Really though, her comment really got me fired up and made me want to get to work on something. Although she's my mother, that comment actually struck a chord (maybe like an Em7) in my semi-dormant brain because I don't like feeling like I'm wasting my time, which was what I was essentially doing today.
With her honest yet offensive comment (I'm being somewhat facetious with the usage of the latter word) I by some strange invocation of the Tejano music gods, decided I wanted to listen to Selena's song "El Chico de; Apartamento 512". I probably have already listened to it about 5 times already and I'm still loving every bit of it.
I'm hoping for a better day tomorrow. A day in which I get my act together, get off my ass (the poor thing will probably be deathly sore from being sat on if I continue with this sedentary trend) and do something valuable with my time.
The mariachi/folklorico concert is in a few days so I'm excited about that...ok, Dina, focus! If my mom were reading this right now, she would probably tell me I'm absolutely hopeless. Thank God for Norms. God bless her soul, mine, and the rest of yall's, you pathetic lazy seniors!
Chuckling deviously,
Dina Starr
I can't remember exactly what she told me but she said something to this effect but in Spanish:
"Why are you doing nothing? It's like you're at a standstill."
WHAT? AT A STANDSTILL?!
Ok, so first you complain that I'm always doing homework and then you get after me when I finally have the chance to lay around like a slob? Not cool, Normies, not cool.
By the way, I usually (but not always) call my mom by her first name (which is Norma) but I normally call her Normies...I like the way that sounds...normally Normies. That's besides the point. My point is that after she said this I felt like a lifeless loser. Fine, I don't have a life...but I AM NOT a loser! Hmmmm...
Kidding. Really though, her comment really got me fired up and made me want to get to work on something. Although she's my mother, that comment actually struck a chord (maybe like an Em7) in my semi-dormant brain because I don't like feeling like I'm wasting my time, which was what I was essentially doing today.
With her honest yet offensive comment (I'm being somewhat facetious with the usage of the latter word) I by some strange invocation of the Tejano music gods, decided I wanted to listen to Selena's song "El Chico de; Apartamento 512". I probably have already listened to it about 5 times already and I'm still loving every bit of it.
I'm hoping for a better day tomorrow. A day in which I get my act together, get off my ass (the poor thing will probably be deathly sore from being sat on if I continue with this sedentary trend) and do something valuable with my time.
The mariachi/folklorico concert is in a few days so I'm excited about that...ok, Dina, focus! If my mom were reading this right now, she would probably tell me I'm absolutely hopeless. Thank God for Norms. God bless her soul, mine, and the rest of yall's, you pathetic lazy seniors!
Chuckling deviously,
Dina Starr
Monday, May 2, 2011
Rice and beans are not enough.
This may be the first time some of you all hear that I'm a vegetarian. No, not a VEGAN...I actually consume dairy products. I don't want to explain the reasons behind making this decision at this moment but, besides ethics being a motivation, it was also a promise I made to God so that he could cure me from this seemingly inescapable ailment. You will probably hear about the rest of this explanation at a later date. For now, I would like to discuss the difficulty of being a vegetarian in such a carnivorous world.
Although I became a vegetarian quite some time ago, yes there are still times when I think those fajita tacos sitting on your plate at Taco Palenque look pretty damn good. I used to be a terrible glutton, eating any food that found itself in my space and as a result, I was a complete fatty. That is not to say I have a perfect body now. From time to time, when I become my old unhealthy self again and begin to eat too much pan dulce and flour tortillas, I find myself feeling guilty as I struggle to fit my monster thighs into my jeans. Before, I used to be ashamed of my imperfect body, but now I embrace it because its my own and no matter what, (although what I'm about to say may sound a bit sappy) our souls were BLESSED with the bodies they find refuge in, not cursed. Even if you are overweight or sickly thin and you try relentlessly to stabalize your body weight to no avail, you must remember that dieting doesn't take genetics into account and that may well be kicking you in the butt. With that said, even though I have had weight issues all my life, becoming a vegetarian really did improve my body shape and improve my self-image.
I never liked talking about my weight loss because I was embarrassed with how overweight I once was but I now could care less because the person who I was before has undergone an immense transformation.
During the summer of what I remember to be my sophomore year, I lost 30 pounds from my change in diet and biking for at least 3 miles almost daily. This change in my life wasn't incited by the desire to lose weight. However, in the end I became a more healthy person and people noticed a change in my disposition.
I don't ever regret becoming a vegetarian until times like these when it is nearly 11:00 p.m. and I am starving but the only thing there is to eat is barbeque meat! Like many other days out of each week, today I ate rice and beans but it was at around 5:00 that I ate so now I can hardly keep my stomach from wailing out its hunger cries...roar!!!!!! Someone, please feed me before I eat my guitar...mahogany wood is looking pretty delicious right now *drool falls to the floor*.
But really, as I sit here typing this and eating this measley apple, (please fiber, don't make me go to the restroom and make me more hungry after you clean out my stomach and its contents are excreted from my intestines!) I am trying to imagine how anorexic people can voluntarily starve themselves. I guess the only option for me now is...more rice! I'll have rice spewing out of my eyes by the morning.
A hungry DINosaur,
Dina Starr
Although I became a vegetarian quite some time ago, yes there are still times when I think those fajita tacos sitting on your plate at Taco Palenque look pretty damn good. I used to be a terrible glutton, eating any food that found itself in my space and as a result, I was a complete fatty. That is not to say I have a perfect body now. From time to time, when I become my old unhealthy self again and begin to eat too much pan dulce and flour tortillas, I find myself feeling guilty as I struggle to fit my monster thighs into my jeans. Before, I used to be ashamed of my imperfect body, but now I embrace it because its my own and no matter what, (although what I'm about to say may sound a bit sappy) our souls were BLESSED with the bodies they find refuge in, not cursed. Even if you are overweight or sickly thin and you try relentlessly to stabalize your body weight to no avail, you must remember that dieting doesn't take genetics into account and that may well be kicking you in the butt. With that said, even though I have had weight issues all my life, becoming a vegetarian really did improve my body shape and improve my self-image.
I never liked talking about my weight loss because I was embarrassed with how overweight I once was but I now could care less because the person who I was before has undergone an immense transformation.
During the summer of what I remember to be my sophomore year, I lost 30 pounds from my change in diet and biking for at least 3 miles almost daily. This change in my life wasn't incited by the desire to lose weight. However, in the end I became a more healthy person and people noticed a change in my disposition.
I don't ever regret becoming a vegetarian until times like these when it is nearly 11:00 p.m. and I am starving but the only thing there is to eat is barbeque meat! Like many other days out of each week, today I ate rice and beans but it was at around 5:00 that I ate so now I can hardly keep my stomach from wailing out its hunger cries...roar!!!!!! Someone, please feed me before I eat my guitar...mahogany wood is looking pretty delicious right now *drool falls to the floor*.
But really, as I sit here typing this and eating this measley apple, (please fiber, don't make me go to the restroom and make me more hungry after you clean out my stomach and its contents are excreted from my intestines!) I am trying to imagine how anorexic people can voluntarily starve themselves. I guess the only option for me now is...more rice! I'll have rice spewing out of my eyes by the morning.
A hungry DINosaur,
Dina Starr
Sunday, May 1, 2011
The BLOODY truth...screw you, period.
I don't care if some of you all find this gross but I really feel it necessary to make today's blog about periods...yes, menstrual cycles. Thanks to my buddy Odessa Reyes (you Harvard 2015ers should have her added) I was inspired to dedicate this entry to mother nature's important bloody cause. After skipping my period last month, being worried that I would become irregular, and getting it late this month, I feel that it returned in full swing but this time it is extra BITCHY. After talking to Toshi last night and sleeping at around 12:30 a.m, an attack of MONSTOROUS pains woke me right up at 2:30 a.m.... 2 flippin' 30! -___-
I got out of bed with static vision and the intense urge to vomit my guts out.
I knew this would be one of those situations when Midol would mock my pathetic state of being and let these beastily prostaglandins eat through my organs. Sure enough, I was right. One hour gone and two Midol capsules later, I was still feeling like I was being murdered. I got out of bed once more to put on an extra layer of clothes. Inside my closet awaited my special pair of pajama bottoms...this is actually the only pair of pajama pants I own since I hate wearing alot of clothes at night (no, I don't sleep naked...I wear shorts instead). I slipped on my "period wear" and quickly threw myself onto the bed like fucking Shamu throws himself into the water at Sea World.
When you have period pain as bad as mine, it feels as though you can put on a parka, 6 pairs of socks, cover youself with heavy winter blankets and still feel like you're whithering away in your own personal Antartica even though your room's temperature is only 75 degrees F. It wasn't until after I listened to about 8 songs on various Pandora stations and 6 different a capella renditions of Green Day's "21 Guns" (symbolic of my period's triumph over me, no doubt) that I decided to message Toshi.
Some of you guys who don't know what role this Toshi person plays in my life may be a little confused when I mention him. Believe me, after I mention him on several more of my blogs, you will probably know him better than he knows himself. At any rate, I was pretty happy since Japan is obviously awake when the United States is sleeping.
I messaged him and he responded quickly with a message that resembled a very euphemistic "WTF". He naturally wanted to know why I was awake. Like every month, I began my seemingly incessant whining.
Once it was already 6:00 a.m, I was too tired to give a damn about the pain and I, at that point, finally let Toshi get back to work. I slept till 10 only to be awaken once more by dear ol' imaginary Jack the Ripper who was sticking blades into my uterus...oh yes...how could I forget that it is called a menstrual cycle.
Needless to say, I've felt pretty useless today since all I did was eat, take medicine, whine, and sleep. Guys don't know how easy they have it...living the period-free life and not having to feel like they're going to pass out from the pain every month. I would say that I'd rather be a guy but nah...I don't want pieces of skin hanging between my legs.
Now this new symptom has attacked...I feel like my stomach acid is eating away at my stomach lining...good grief, where are my parents with the rice and beans?! Periods, periods, oh drippily painful periods, I will donate you to some non-pregnant girl who has not felt the bloodiness for months.
Dying on my freezing tile floor,
Dina Star
I got out of bed with static vision and the intense urge to vomit my guts out.
I knew this would be one of those situations when Midol would mock my pathetic state of being and let these beastily prostaglandins eat through my organs. Sure enough, I was right. One hour gone and two Midol capsules later, I was still feeling like I was being murdered. I got out of bed once more to put on an extra layer of clothes. Inside my closet awaited my special pair of pajama bottoms...this is actually the only pair of pajama pants I own since I hate wearing alot of clothes at night (no, I don't sleep naked...I wear shorts instead). I slipped on my "period wear" and quickly threw myself onto the bed like fucking Shamu throws himself into the water at Sea World.
When you have period pain as bad as mine, it feels as though you can put on a parka, 6 pairs of socks, cover youself with heavy winter blankets and still feel like you're whithering away in your own personal Antartica even though your room's temperature is only 75 degrees F. It wasn't until after I listened to about 8 songs on various Pandora stations and 6 different a capella renditions of Green Day's "21 Guns" (symbolic of my period's triumph over me, no doubt) that I decided to message Toshi.
Some of you guys who don't know what role this Toshi person plays in my life may be a little confused when I mention him. Believe me, after I mention him on several more of my blogs, you will probably know him better than he knows himself. At any rate, I was pretty happy since Japan is obviously awake when the United States is sleeping.
I messaged him and he responded quickly with a message that resembled a very euphemistic "WTF". He naturally wanted to know why I was awake. Like every month, I began my seemingly incessant whining.
Once it was already 6:00 a.m, I was too tired to give a damn about the pain and I, at that point, finally let Toshi get back to work. I slept till 10 only to be awaken once more by dear ol' imaginary Jack the Ripper who was sticking blades into my uterus...oh yes...how could I forget that it is called a menstrual cycle.
Needless to say, I've felt pretty useless today since all I did was eat, take medicine, whine, and sleep. Guys don't know how easy they have it...living the period-free life and not having to feel like they're going to pass out from the pain every month. I would say that I'd rather be a guy but nah...I don't want pieces of skin hanging between my legs.
Now this new symptom has attacked...I feel like my stomach acid is eating away at my stomach lining...good grief, where are my parents with the rice and beans?! Periods, periods, oh drippily painful periods, I will donate you to some non-pregnant girl who has not felt the bloodiness for months.
Dying on my freezing tile floor,
Dina Star
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