The Perfect Lazy Day

If I have absolutely nothing to do, I will wake up early nonetheless. It’s just ingrained in me; I can’t help it. So, I’ll slip out of bed in my fuzzy socks and walk around the house, watching the light filter in. The rays of light dancing on the hardwood floor and the floating dust particles adds a sense of magic to the room, that it too is waking up with me. I’ll just sit in the middle of the room and enjoy the world while it was still mine, before the silence would be disrupted.

Eventually, doors would start opening and shutting, meaning I could turn on the TV and watch Netflix. The volume would stay fairly low, assuming it’s an episode I’ve already seen, so that I could hear the faint popping of the butter square sliding across the skillet. Then, the TV gets muted because my dad will start playing music on his guitar. Even though the silence is pretty much gone at that point, I’ve already fallen in love with how the noise intertwines in harmony: Elisa snoring until 1 p.m., dad singing into the microphone, and the clicks that the kitchen emits every time the stove turns on and off.

From there, I’ll decide to devote my undivided attention to Netflix for the next umpteen hours. Every so often, I’ll stretch my legs by traveling to the fridge, staring at its contents, and returning back to my indented spot on the couch that happens to be equipped with blankets, pillows, and a small dog.

All of a sudden, I’ll realize that it is in fact 10 p.m. despite the fact that I’m pretty sure I only watched a few episodes. So I’ll convince myself that I can only bear to stay awake for one more episode, but the next thing I know is that it’s 2 a.m. By that point, my eyes are struggling to stay open and my hands can’t seem to enter my phone password correctly.

Then, I blink without being able to reopen my eyes for a bit. I could say that’s where the day normally ends, but usually these things happen on a Sunday, meaning that most of it will probably happen yet again.



I’m Not Waiting For Thanksgiving

I believe that people should be grateful for everything that they are given in life. To me, it is pointless not to appreciate what you can’t change. There are so many rewards that complement a positive mindset, so why would you choose to think negatively? There is always a silver lining even in the darkest of times. There is always something to learn.

In light of the subject, I want to say thank you for all the things that have not only made my life better but have also changed me as a person. I would not be who I am today without the struggles and successes I have been through.

I am thankful for…

  1. God
  2. my family (both biological and chosen)
  3. my friends
  4. my dog
  5. growing up in Louisiana
  6. moving to Texas
  7. not getting a phone until 8th grade
  8. learning to ride a bike
  9. the dance lessons I took as a kid
  10. 80’s music
  11. my teachers
  12. my neighbors
  13. my ability to play and enjoy music
  14. writing
  15. sleep
  16. dreams
  17. movies
  18. my new laptop (which I got today!!!!)
  19. drill team
  20. orchestra
  21. newspaper
  22. my ability to read and my opportunity to read amazing books
  23. Harry Potter
  24. Disney
  25. my travels
  26. food
  27. Netflix
  28. Skype
  29. my curly hair (even though I used to absolutely hate it)
  30. social media and the wonders of modern communication
  31. baking and cooking
  32. Target
  33. my diverse heritage
  34. Mardi Gras
  35. being 5′ 5”
  36. my school
  37. my car
  38. my ability to drive
  39. my past injuries
  40. my failures
  41. my imperfections
  42. the beach
  43. Christmas, Easter, and all of my other favorite holidays
  44. my weird laugh
  45. funny parodies
  46. dogs and other cute animals (ex: pugs)
  47. post cards
  48. art museums
  49. science museums and planetariums
  50. ice skating
  51. roller skating
  52. fall weather
  53. swimming lessons
  54. sucking at being on a swim team
  55. themed 5ks
  56. t-shirts
  57. swings at the park
  58. coffee and tea and milkshakes and water
  59. onesie pajamas
  60. memes
  61. superheroes
  62. comic books
  63. board games
  64. stargazing
  65. sunrises
  66. sunsets
  67. flowers that don’t make me sneeze
  68. musicals
  69. all the plays I’ve gotten to see
  70. all the concerts I’ve been to
  71. sweaters and hoodies
  72. fuzzy socks
  73. naps
  74. rainy days
  75. road trips
  76. snow
  77. all the years I got to play soccer
  78. air conditioning
  79. my ability to speak two languages
  80. college applications being online, so I don’t have to write it all by hand
  81. controversy, because it has made me more open minded
  82. having to share a room with my sister
  83. dress up days at school
  84. having glasses that I don’t mind wearing
  85. having had glasses that I didn’t like because they make my glasses now seem so much better in comparison
  86. the bad haircuts I used to get
  87. my amazing hairdresser who does my hair and never messes up
  88. picnics
  89. water balloon fights
  90. snowball fights
  91. home videos
  92. water parks
  93. all the times I accidentally stutter or yell gibberish
  94. painting
  95. traditions
  96. all the movie tickets I remembered to keep
  97. scrapbooks
  98. the fact that I’m not colorblind
  99. never having fallen onstage
  100. my memories

My French Fry Fetish

To describe the best french fries I’ve ever had would be like painting a masterpiece using the nerve that connects my taste buds to my brain as a bristle in a paintbrush made of wonder dust and dreams. I feel that if I were to paint this masterpiece, it would only be fitting that it hang in the restaurant that can conjure the potato-lings that have stolen my heart (via my stomach).

It would definitely not hang at In-N-Out. Their fries are so thin and way too salty. The same goes with other fancy restaurants that think it’s okay to charge way too much for sticks of wannabe fries.

Some places are worthy of owning forgeries of the masterpiece. This includes Canes, Chick-fil-a, and McDonald’s. They’re warm, chunky fries with enough pizzazz to make me eat them in the car ride home instead of waiting. Love never waits. Eat the fries in the car.

The only restaurants that can have my work bless their walls are the restaurants that  understand the essence of perfection when it comes to french fries. They must be golden. They must be so deliciously scrumptious that I will risk burning my hands and mouth for the sake of eating a fresh batch of such fries. There must be enough tater in the french fries to constitute it a french fry, not a stick of unworthiness. They can never be bland or too salty. They must radiate bliss.


Unquotable me

I might not come up with the most memorable combinations of words, but these people definitely do. Here’s some words of wisdom that speak to me on a dead person to alive person kind of level…unless they’re still alive. Then it’s just me stalking someone from afar.

1. Life becomes easier when you accept the apology you never got. -Robert Brault

2. Do what you feel in your heart to be right for you’ll be criticized for it anyway. -Eleanor Roosevelt

3. Be the person your dog thinks you are. -Unknown

4. Let no man pull you low enough to hate him. -Martin Luther King Jr.

5. The worst enemy to creativity is self doubt. -Sylvia Plath

6. If you have time to worry, you have time to pray. -Unknown

7. You need a little bit of insanity to do great things. -Henry Rollins

5 Songs I’m Loving Right Now

When a song gets stuck in my head, you’ll know. I will go around repeating the same few phrases or humming a certain melody for weeks. That doesn’t mean I love the song. It just means that it’s catchy. I’m being very misleading right now.

All of that was somewhat besides the point. Here are the actual words that correspond with the topic.

1. Spirit in the Sky

Ever since I watched Guardians of the Galaxy, the soundtrack has been one of my favorites. In my opinion, the best tracks are “Hooked on a Feeling” and “Come and Get Your Love”. Unfortunately on my behalf, I have not come to appreciate “Spirit in the Sky” until recently. All of a sudden it’s been popping up in the most random places. It always comes up when I’m listening to my music on shuffle, and on top of that, my favorite radio station, 98.7 KLUV, has not stopped playing it. If I turn on the radio, they are playing “Spirit in the Sky”. It’s grown on me.

2. Can’t Stop the Feeling

You can’t not dance and smile when you listen to this song. I’m not talking about cheesy Charlie Brown dancing. I’m talking about full on jamming in your car until you turn to the person in the lane next to you, but the vibes are so good that you continue to dance AND stare back until they join in on the fun. That is the power of this song.

3. Like I’m Gonna Lose You

This is the song that you scream at the top of your lungs when you’re in the care with your best friend. Or when you’re driving alone. Or just sitting in your car because the song came on and you can’t bear to turn of the car even though you just parked.

4. The Way You Make Me Feel

I will stop listening to whatever someone is saying to enjoy the wonder of this song in my own little thought bubble. It’s so catchy and addictive. it seeps into your brain and trickles down your spine with grooviness (it’s a word).

5. Wouldn’t It Be Nice

The song that happens to be a staple for the Beach Boys doubles as one of the only songs that makes me feel safe, happy, and calm. I haven’t heard it in so long, but it found its way back to me. It was the first thing I listened to when getting my blood drawn for the first time. If that doesn’t help paint the picture well enough, I had three different people holding my hand and motivating me throughout the process. One of those three was my English teacher. She witnessed my nervous laughter and everything.


5 Ways To Win My Heart


I’d like to start in saying that if you try to win over my heart, you can’t have it. I need it to live.


1. Jousting

If you’re simply medieval, jousting for the sake of winning my heart is a sure way to make your intentions known. I’ll stand there in a tight, uncomfortable corset overlooking your public display of masculinity and faint in an instant. You’ll thinking I’m swooning, but in reality the corset is strangling me to death. If you’re skilled enough, you’ll know that the second I die that it will be the prime opportunity to harvest my organs. At that exact moment, you shall have won over my heart.

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2. Dance Battle

There’s nothing like a good old fashioned dance battle to songs like “It’s Tricky.” What’s not to love? There’s dimmed lights, sick beats, and sweet moves all over the place. You get to see the wild side of a person, whether they can break it down or not. Common dance moves include the coffee-grinder, the sprinkler, and the hoedown throw down. However, only a perfected Hammer-time can win this vital organ.

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3. Laser Tag

The only way to settle anything (and I mean ANYTHING) is with laser tag. It’s a way to test a person’s stamina, agility, and creativity. You have to be able to wreak havoc and remain invisible all at once. Any person that wins a game of laser tag is worthy of removing both my right to play laser tag as well as the heart I use to live.

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4. Staring Contest

It seemed to work for Edward Cullen. If you’re really into taking away the pumping blood in my body, try covering yourself in sparkly baby powder and being creepily overprotective about every single little thing.

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5. Awful Pickup Lines

I may be a sap for rom-coms every now and then, but I’m always in the mood to hear horrible pickup lines (if you haven’t caught on by now, I’ve been joking this whole time). I love being put on the spot without having anything to say in return. When you see me react in horror, disgust, fear, or a combination of all three, you know you’re doing it right.

My European Tour: Nothing But A Dream

For the record, I would visit the entire world if I could, just as any other stereotypical girl with wanderlust would. I’m a sponge that wants to soak up all that she can, including the small towns, skyscrapers, the ethnic food, and most importantly the people. I want to hear stories I’ve never heard before and people watch. There’s so many different ways to style a beard that I don’t know about. I want to go someplace I’m not wanted so people can scream at me in their native tongue how I’m a filthy American who doesn’t belong.

To this day, none of that has happened to me. I’ve been confined to the Western Hemisphere of the world. Yet, by never having visited any place in Europe, my mind has been left to wonder of the potential adventure towards the East.  Ever since I was little, I would research European festivals and landmarks as well as train fares and airline tickets with the idea that by the time I was 18-years old I would have enough money to go on the vacation of a lifetime. Nine countries. Two months. Approximately all the money that I didn’t have.

So with less than a year until my 18th birthday, I’ve come to terms with the reality that I’m not going to Europe next summer, no matter how much I planned, researched, or worked. It will remain a dream unless a miracle should happen, and I don’t want a miracle. They don’t belong to me. Instead, it’ll be the best dream I’ll have for the time being. I’ll dream of the smells and how long it takes their toilets to flush and what all the doorknobs looks like. The only downside will be that I’m going to stay as pale as I am right now.


The plan was to fly to the nearest country so that I would spend the least amount of time in the air. I love plane rides, but there’s always a substantial amount of anxiety that happens to swell inside me whenever there is turbulence. I figured that my first plane ride across the Atlantic Ocean should be as short as possible. I imagine that it rains a lot there and that the sky is grey with light peaking through the clouds. Ireland was the only place I didn’t research landmarks or museums or festivals. I wanted Ireland to be a place for walking and admiring the scenery. I wanted Ireland to be a place of serene peace and church on a Sunday morning. Maybe even a hot cup of soup would be included in the picture. Sometimes the best adventure you can give your mind and body is a breath of fresh air.

The United Kingdom

Every summer, I wait for the solstice to come. I wake up at 5 a.m. and make myself breakfast (that includes cupcakes decorated as miniature suns) so that I may sit outside and enjoy the sunrise from my backyard. I love the solitude in it, but it breaks my heart that barely anyone appreciates the solstice. My family makes fun of me for it, and some people are oblivious to what the word even means. However, at Stonehenge in Salisbury, the sunrise on the day of the Summer Solstice fits perfectly through the gap between the stones. It’s a place of mystery and legends. It’s also a place where people watch the sunrise as families or even with friends. People willingly wake up early once a year to share a sunrise together and enjoy the marvelous world we’ve been given.

After enjoying the countryside, I planned to explore the city of London. There’s huge landmarks there, such as Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, and the London Eye. There’s also the shops that scream with posh clothing the second you glance at them. I’d be doing double-takes enough times going down the side walk to make me fall flat on my face, another reason for people to hate Americans.


One of the biggest reasons I am being a stereotypical white girl for wanting to visit France is because Sabrina Fairchild did in the movie Sabrina, the movie I’m named after. In the movie, a chauffeur’s daughter is sent off to work in Paris, France to help end her infatuation with David Larrabee, a guy who barely knew she existed. When she returned home after a year, she was still the same woman of elegance, but her charm and sense of self-confidence had grown immensely. I know that Sabrina Fairchild is just a character, and I’m definitely not her. That doesn’t keep me from wanting the same things for myself. I want to come home from France and be utterly unrecognizable and  eye-catching at the same time.

When visiting Paris, I wanted to see the city from the top of the Eiffel Tower, try escargot, and sit on the banks of the Seine River. I planned on walking the hallways of the Louvre and staring at paintings for hours. I needed to try French bread that was actually from France. There were cheeses and wines and pastries that I wanted to try, and they have berets! Ever since I watched A Testament of Youth, a World War I movie based on an English memoir, I fell madly in love with berets. Vera wore all sorts of knitted berets throughout the film, ones that I would gladly own. Unfortunately, they are hard to track down in stores and online (or I may just be an idiot that has zero knowledge of how to navigate online shopping). So, I always imagined that France would have the perfect beret for no particular reason. It just would, and I would buy it with money that I would have otherwise spent on trying a delicious pastry for the third time.

I wanted to see more than just Paris; Versailles was a whole other world of wonder in my eyes. It was and is a magical castle of gold, glass, and silver. I visualized grand entrances, ornate finishes, and rooms so loud that I’d be scared to speak. Not loud in the sense that sound would emit, rather it would be loud in it’s personality and aura. It’d be too much for me to even attempt to talk. Versailles is the cheerleader in school that everyone loves because she’s perfect in every way, and I’m the orchestra kid. I don’t even have band kid status.


Chocolate and I have a relationship that’s indescribable. One moment, I can’t get enough, and the next I’m cursing him for all the trouble he causes me. Still, I keep coming back because I know that what we have together is sweet (see what I did there 😉 ). I chose Belgium for the sake of saving my long distance affair with European chocolate. Belgium was meant for visiting as many chocolatiers as I could.

The Netherlands

Have you ever seen The Fault in Our Stars? I HAVE! MULTIPLE TIMES! Do you know why? It’s not entirely because I love putting myself through the emotional torture. It’s partly because it’s as close as I’m going to get to the stairs of the Anne Frank museum, the glistening canals, and crowded bike racks.

I also happen to have an infatuation for Anne Frank. I’ve been hearing about her story from her mom as long as I can remember. I’ve seen the movie about her countless times. Then after reading her diary, I wanted to incorporate her words into my life. At the beginning of her diary she wrote “I hope I will be able to confide everything to you, as I have never been able to confide in anyone, and I hope you will be a great source of comfort and support.” After being overwhelmed by such words, I grabbed the nearest blank journal (I own plenty) and wrote the exact phrase in the front cover of my new diary. To pay her homage by visiting the museum would be an honor.


When I was five, my family hosted a German exchange student in our house for one year. Her name is Stefanie, and she’s a doctor now. Every year after she left, she would send boxes of German candy to us. There were gummies and chocolates mostly. Usually we would get the boxes around Easter, so there would be candy eggs among among everything else. To this day, twelve years later, she still remembers me. She messaged me and called me her sister. I was saving Germany for her. I wanted to be able to meet the person that is frozen in the photographs of my house and remember her.

There also happen to be a plethora of castles in Germany. Each one is unique even though they share similar characteristics. It’s as if they are a family of ageless relatives. Once on a shuttle ride home from the airport (we had gone on a trip to Gulf Shores for the weekend) I met two girls that had randomly packed a spare change of clothes and left for Germany. They stayed there for two weeks and wore braids in their hair. They had seen the castles and drank warm beer. They couldn’t stop smiling.


Every summer, Austria is hosts the Salzburg Festival. For the festival, operas and orchestras perform in Mozart’s hometown from late July to early August. I harbored the illusion that I’d get to walk among the classical music community in a long, green dress. I would get to see an opera in the flesh and hear European musicians play European music. Somehow, it’s a dream within a dream, for to get to Europe is one thing. It is another to be able to enjoy such luxuries such as the Salzburg Festival.

Austria itself is a wonderland, so I’m told. Every time I heard Erienne sigh “Vienna” under her breath as we explored the new collection from Vienna at the art museum, I could feel the awe in her voice. I thought of how much she must truly love Vienna to say it in such a way. I wonder what it’s like to see the sky from Vienna and what it sounds like. I pray for the day that I, too, can sigh “Vienna” under my breath every time it comes to mind.


My affinity for Italy spurs from my mother’s fascination with Italy. Even before my mom was single, she knew in her heart that she would move to Italy on her own someday. She’s always comparing herself to a bird in that she wants to be free. I think if she were a bird, it’d be the first place she would visit.

I am only good at growing sunflowers because they are drought-resistant. That helps with the fact that Texas summers are brutal, and I forget to water them. In Italy, there are fields that are full of sunflowers. The blankets of yellow are never-ending in some parts. Of course, I want to see Rome and Florence, but Tuscany is pure sunshine and then some. Again, I’m biased because I’ve seen Under the Tuscan Sun at least a thousand times. They show the market place full of warm, juicy grapes as well as the snakes and spiders that make themselves uninvited visitors. It’s not a perfect place, but it is a beautiful one, land and people and everything. I think that’s all a place really needs to be.


There are ruins in Panama from when the Spaniards were still in control of the country. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to Spain.

In the late summer there is the Running of the Bulls, a time you can eat tapas in mortal peril. I don’t know why they run the bulls, and I don’t think it’d be honest if I researched that bit of information last minute. There are beautiful Catholic churches in Spain, too. They don’t take ice in their drinks, and Spanish guitar is so romantic.


I hope that one day I’ll get to see it all, even if it means shattering this idealistic image that I have. I do not know if everything I’ve described is true. I’ve only seen it all through a computer screen. I hope it doesn’t stay that way.



Mother Dearest

Dear Mom,

Out of all the people in the world, you inspire me the most to be the best person I can be. You’re the only person I know that has been able to go through multiple hells and come out stronger than ever. I wouldn’t want to learn how to life from anyone else. 

Watching you grow in your English and knowledge of modern culture has awed me over the years. You’ve gone from calling pork ‘mark’ to writing English essays in your college classes in 20 years, three more years than what I’ve had. You’ve gone from never hearing the word iPod to being able to fully operate a smart phone. You know more about computers than I do sometimes. 

Not only have you grown in knowledge, but you’ve grown in ambition. Currently, you happen to be the only person I know to have gone from college dropout to a wannabe college professor. You have these amazing dreams that I know you’ll make your reality because you put in the hard work. 

This applies to both your career and your personal life. It’s unlikely to hear from other kids that their mom’s goal is to be able to run and do jumping jacks even though I hear it from you all the time. Then again, not all moms played soccer with their kids in the backyard when they were little and tore their ACL. 

No matter what life has thrown at you, you’ve become so much more than your past ills and injuries. You strive to carve your own path in life because you don’t ever accept mediocre. Instead, you prove to the world that single, minority, silly, intelligent, and caring women have a high place in society and in the eyes of all bystanders in your wake.

I’m the luckiest daughter alive because I’m pretty sure you’re the only mom that will head butt their child for the sake of a Finding Nemo handshake. Please stay weird, strong, and beautiful, Mom. I’m rooting for you. 

All my love and then some,

Your favorite daughter because you know the evil one would never do this 😉 


“This is my pet, Peeves.”

For the most part, I am a moderate, mellow person. I try my best not to annoy people unintentionally or get on anyone’s bad side.  Normally, I am tolerant, calm and collected. However, there happen to be two horrible things that somehow have not become extinct or punishable by a court of law.

1. Slurping
Sentence: Death by vacuum while listening to slurping noises on repeat

I will pull my hair out having to listen to people slurp soup, spaghetti, drinks, or ANYTHING! Inside I’m cringing, dying, and praying that everyone involved makes it out alive afterward.

When I was growing up, slurping in my house was followed by a death glare from my mother. (Her death glares are strong enough to make people question their existence). It has been wired into my brain and my daily function to physically remove slurping from the situation by any means necessary for the sake of my ears and the rest of the world.

2. Littering
Sentence: Your litter slowly consumes you the more you do it

Why do people want to live in their own trash? Don’t they see how it hurts nature, animals, and aesthetic? Every time someone drops their trash in the middle of the road or flings it out of their car window I want to scream. The fact that people are too lazy to hold onto trash in their car until they get home or in their hands until they find a trash can is ridiculous.

The people who volunteer their time to use those spear-like things to clean up litter off the sides of the street have every right to use those litter-fighting-spears as weapons. We can make litterers fight to the death using their trash as weapons while they run screaming from the spears being rained down from over them. It shall be known as the Litter Games, a trilogy of novels that happens to become four movies because they wanted to make the third novel split into two parts.

To anyone that litters or slurps,
Please stop. You’ll find that when you don’t commit crimes against humanity, there’s a whole new world with light and happiness and hope. It’s a glorious place to be a part of, and we want you to be a part of it. It all comes down to you. You have to make the conscious effort to stop.
Everyone that gets annoyed by what you do

P.S. You’re not a bad person. You’re just a good person that happens to do bad things.


Real Life Princess Diaries

Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Never let it fade away
Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket
Save it for a rainy day

Every time I think of The Princess Diaries, the image of Mia Thermopolis singing and crying in the seat of her convertible as the rain falls inside of her convertible. It was one of the moments where she truly felt alone in the world despite the fact that Joe was on his way to get her. Throughout the entire movie, the moments when she feels the most invisible are the moments right before someone thinks of her or does something for her. She wasn’t invisible to the entire world.

I’m so used to feeling invisible like Mia. If I go to pick up a pizza and see the cashier in the hallway behind the counter, what I consider to be politely yelling doesn’t work. Trying to flag down a busy secretary at an office or the employee of an ice cream shop is an impossible task for me the majority of the time. It usually takes a solid 10 minutes before I’m noticed. Sometimes there’s an extra five minutes to wait if they forget about me.

However, there have been strange moments in my life when people have been able to see me despite my cloak of invisibility. Whenever someone tells me that they notice me or proves it to me through their actions, it’s something I can’t forget. To know that my teachers notice my hard work and progress or that friends “see me” when I feel invisible to the world makes leaves me utterly dumbfounded. The feeling of being noticed is comparable to playing I Spy because out of all of the things a person could have picked, they happened to pick that one specific object that stood out to them. It’s the best compliment I’ve ever received.

My apologies for the short post. You’re more than welcome to take up reading my other posts. 😉