A letter to President Obama

Dear Mr. Obama,

Today is your last day as the President of the United States. I can’t begin to wrap my head around that. That tomorrow, you, Michelle, Malia, Sasha, Bo, and Sunny will no longer be the first family and will no longer live in the White House.

I was 11 when you were elected. I sat on my couch, watching as the votes began to add up, as you took quite a lead over John McCain. My mother was walking around the house, excited, and my dad took no interest in the matter, typical.

I still have the newspaper from when they announced you as President. I’ll always keep it. You were the first black president, and dear lord I hope not the last. I remember going to school the next day and you being the talk of the town. Everyone was talking about you. You were everywhere. In my English class, in my social studies class, even in my science class. You were the shiny new toy everyone had to talk about.

I remember the day you were inaugurated. The 8th-grade social studies teacher invited the entire school into the auditorium to sit on the creaky, old, wooden, and broken seats, as he projected the inauguration onto the stage. I don’t remember what you said, I don’t remember what anyone said, but I remember that my heart fluttered when you said, “So help me God.” You became the 44th president of these United States that I had called home for the past 11 years. I didn’t know who you were, I didn’t know your policies, but I had an inkling that your time as president would be one for the books.

Flash forward to today. You have accomplished so much. After 8 years of this country crumbling to pieces, you had 8 years to fix a broken nation. A broken nation in need of dire help. You came in, picked up the pieces of the country you had called home for so long and began to rebuild. You began with reversing the Bush torture policies, which we all know desperately needed to be removed. You kept going with passing the Affordable Care Act and Wall Street reform. Not to mention repealing the “Don’t ask, Don’t tell” policy and ended the war in Iraq. You acknowledged that veterans are important and passed bills to help support every last one of them. You appointed the first ever Hispanic Supreme Court Justice and you were the first president in decades to completely avoid a scandal.

After your presidency Gay marriage is legal. The housing market is doing better, and you have begun aiding in combating global warming. You have done so much for this country and I am forever grateful for you and your time in office.

While there are many people that didn’t approve of you and are going to nitpick each and every move you or your family makes, there are so many that love you and so many that will be sad to see you go. I am one of those, One of those people who will be forever grateful for all you did for women, blacks, Hispanics, LGBTQIA+ and other minorities alike.

You have been a ray of sunshine in this dark dark time we live in and I am deeply saddened that you are leaving. I will miss your sense of humor and your love for not only the country but for your family and everyone you meet. I will miss you dearly but I know you have so many things left to accomplish in your lifetime.

Thank you Barack Obama, for giving me hope for the past 8 years and for years to come.

Waking up on Christmas

8:09 am: my door cracks open, letting in a line of light directly hitting my face, awakening me from my slumber

8:10 am: my sister coughs and mumbles something along the lines of “It’s Christmas come on.”

8:10 am: I jolt out of bed, wiping the sleep from my eyes, putting on my new bathrobe, pulling her into a Christmas hug as we descend down the stairs to our living room

8:15 am: Hannah Montana plays in the background (A Christmas tradition) as my sister and I peek in our stockings, hers revealing a new beauty blender and some anime figurines, and mine revealing the same beauty blender and some Play-Doh.

8:17 am: As my dog hears us ruffling through our stockings, she senses the possibility of some left over paper she can eat, and tramples down the stairs to see what all the ruckus is about. Despite her being sick she still has some pep in her step and tons of kisses to dish out.

8:30 am: I hear my mom cough and I immediately call up to her seeing if she is awake, to which I receive a heavy groan followed by a hmph

8:47 am: My father returns from Dunkin Donuts carting in a tray full of drinks for the four of us and some donuts for the three of them

9:00 am: My mother mopes downstairs finally after smelling the sweet iced coffee calling her name.

9:05 am: I am situated in front of the tree as everyone takes their seats on our furniture and my dog on my lap, I begin my role as Santa and begin to pass out presents.

9:45 am: Presents are unwrapped, coffee has been drunk, wrapping paper litters the floor, and smiles are all around.

Guide to Christmas with my family

Hi everyone, the other day I was doing some fall cleaning, and stumbled upon a letter my friend had written me a few years back. I was going to visit her family with her where her mom grew up. Basically, she wrote a guide on how to survive a week with her family by telling me who everyone was, what they do, and just random things I should know. Since Christmas is a time when boyfriends and girlfriends meet families, I figured I would make a guide to my family, not that I have a significant other that is going to meet them this year, but maybe I’ll be able to use this in the future. So, here we have a guide to some of my family members I spend Christmas with.

Terry- My grandfather. We have Christmas at his house (and my grandma Barb’s) every year. He is allergic to chocolate but eats it anyways. Always compliment his brownies and ask him about his life as a teacher/principal and you’ll be fine. Also, if his water bottle is empty, ask if he wants a new one. He will.

Barb- My grandma. She cooks everything and doesn’t sit down to eat until literally forced to by my mother. Very nice but will call you a “little shit” if you beat her in cards. Volunteer to help with dishes and she may start crying.

Liz- My aunt. She is usually nice but can be very judgemental (especially of hair colors, tattoos, and piercings). She will eat any Rice Krispie treat that comes in her path and drinks a lot of wine.

Jason- My uncle (Liz’s husband). Can be a tool Usually is a tool who yells at the television nonstop, drinks a lot of alcohol, and is a very sore loser (he flipped the game of life and the wooden table on top of me when I got it for Christmas when I was 9). He is also known for not being a vegan supporter and giving vegans shit for being vegan. Jason has two kids- Megan and Jacob. Megan is married and Jacob changes where he lives every three months it seems.

Jim and Kelly- Jim is my mom and aunt’s brother but he’s sort of just there and they don’t spend a lot of time with the rest of the family. They are sort of irrelevant and Kelly just likes to complain about life so ignore them. They have three kids Ashley (love of my life), Luke (he said Hillary Clinton sucks so screw him), and Sean (my literally favorite cousin)

Alan and Lorene- my parentals. Pretty chill. My dad also yells at the TV (sports lol) and will probably fall asleep on the couch at some point during the day. My mom drinks a lot of wine and beer, eats too much, and the complains about how much she ate for the next 3 days.

Madi- my sister. Does not talk a lot. Usually on her phone. Doesn’t eat much. Talk to her about anime or Doctor Who and she will love you forever

Bill and Suzie- Suzie is my grandpa’s sister and Bill is her fiance. Suzie had a stroke a few months ago and is recovering. Her arm is still in a sling and she can’t speak very well, but she is doing good. Bill, just like my dad, will also most likely fall asleep on the couch at some point during the day.

Kristy- My Aunt Suzie’s daughter (not Bill’s). She has two kids (Will and Nathan) who typically don’t come because they spend Christmas with their dad. She sometimes brings a new boyfriend (she has a type- tattoos and piercings with lots and lots of hair gel, who are always super nice) and typically doesn’t bring them back. She is super nice though and is never judgey on anything. She also has really cool tattoos.

Robin and Ed- Robin is Kristy’s sister, who also has 2 kids (Kaylin(the love of my life) and Kira). Robin is super sweet and always wear high heels and dresses super nice, even when the rest of us are wearing jeans. Ed, on the other hand is very conservative, tags liberals in gun photos, and my mom and I have both unfriended him on Facebook. Do not talk to Ed… ever.

Kathy and Gary- Kathy is also my grandpa’s sister and Gary is her husband. The only thing Gary and I talk about is golf. He is always the one to cut the turkey and ham and I don’t know why. Kathy posts a lot of controversial things on Facebook followed by Buddha quotes which really pisses my mom off. No one really likes talking to her but we all have to anyways. She usuallt just talks to the adults but if a child walks in her line of sight, she can and will talk your ear off.

Patty and Mike- Patty is my grandpa’s final sister and Mike is her husband. My aunt Patty handmakes Christmas ornaments for everyone in the family. They take like 8 months for her to make them so we always remember to compliment the ornaments, not that we wouldn’t to begin with (she is very skilled and always makes amazing designs). Mike usually doesn’t come because he either has to work (no clue what he does) or is sick. So most people don’t have to worry about him.

But in the end, anyone under 20 hides in the basement until we are called up for linner (lunch/dinner) so there isn’t much to worry about. We basically spend the few hours watching Emperor’s New Groove and Princess Diaries until we are called up. When the elder people start filing out, we start playing cards and my grandparents start swearing.

Until tomorrow,


Hot doctor… Hairy legs

Nov. 29: What was your most embarrassing or scary trip to the doctor?

Preface: I hate myself and think about this visit a lot so thank you BlogHer for bringing it up once again.

I think I may have talked about me injuring my knee on here before but if not… or you’re new to this blog let’s take a trip down memory lane.

When I was a freshman in high school I played on my school’s basketball team. It was more rigorous and intense than my middle school and recreational teams so it took a toll on my left knee. It was always swollen and hurt… a lot.

Fast forward to that following summer. I was playing in my school’s summer league, playing 5-6 basketball games per week and working out on my own. I improperly did a lunge which resulted in a lot of swearing, doctor’s appointments, crutches, etc.

My junior year of high school, my knee still wasn’t 100% but I was determined (or my dad was…) to play varsity basketball. While playing against arguably the best girl on our team, I went up to rebound the ball, as did she, and we both came crashing down, and haha for me, I landed right on my left knee.

That winter, I couldn’t bend my knee, and it hurt to stand on it for any period of time… which made showering quite the task. To keep my showers short and sweet, I decided to not shave for the entire winter. Mainly because I was curious to see how long my hair would be and after not shaving for that first week, it becomes a habit to not.

I went to the doctor so many times that winter and spring… so many. All of my doctors were old men who had definitely seen worse than a girl who didn’t want to shave, or women who totally felt my pain (my leg hair became a topic that ritually came up during physical therapy).

During a trip to visit the orthopaedic surgeon, only for him to tell me that there was nothing physically wrong with me and he had absolutely no idea why my knee looked like a grapefruit and I was in an obscene amount of pain, there was an assistant (I think a resident) doctor who was BY FAR THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING I HAVE EVER LAID EYES ON (definition tall, dark, and handsome). He came in after the surgeon had looked at my knee so my yoga pants were pulled down, hiding the forest on my leg.

The surgeon told the assistant (Brad) that I would need a shot of cortisone in my knee and that none other than Brad himself would be administering that shot.

Shit, I thought. He will see my leg and my dreams of having a surgeon husband will be gone forever.

WAIT… it get’s worse.

Not only did I need a shot of cortisone in my knee, my knee had to be bent at 90° for the shot to be administered. So, Brad had to spend about 5 minutes bending my knee (it hurt that bad) while holding onto my poodle of a leg, all the while I am crying hysterically telling him to stop because of how bad it hurt. Once my calf was finally perpendicular to my thigh, Brad gave me my cortisone shot (I am still bawling by the way), gave me an empathetic look before leaving, never to be seen again. Also, cortisone is supposed to relieve pain and I can say, without a doubt, it did not work. So, Brad had to see my hairy leg AND my ugly crying face for no reason whatsoever.

Until tomorrow


Oh look, another election post

Nov. 10: Did you celebrate or commemorate your divorce or a significant breakup? Would you ever?

I can honestly say that I have never done this, never plan on doing this, nor did I think anyone did this. I don’t have much to say on this topic as I have not been divorced or had major breakups. My last breakup I laugh at a lot but I don’t celebrate it.


I do just want to say something about the election again. I know, I know.  Enough about this election. But this is so important for not only the United States but the entire world as well. America does so much trade and business and we are involved with so many countries across the globe.

I am from America and I stayed up until 130 when they finally announced that Trump had won. Hearing the phrase “President Trump” was tear-inducing, gut-wrenching, and absolutely heartbreaking. I never knew America had so much hatred and ignorance in it. People are killing themselves, men are boasting about grabbing women by the pussy, there are riots and protests across the entire country, Muslim women are afraid to leave the house wearing their hijab, and people are drawing swastikas and hanging black mannequins all over the country. Trump isn’t even inaugurated yet and people have done this. It has been less than 2 days and we have experienced this. If this is any indication of what the next 4 years are like, I fear for this country.

No Hillary wasn’t perfect, but there should have been no competition between the racist, homophobic, sexist, islamophobic and a woman who devoted her entire life trying to make a difference in this country.

I wrote this about my feelings. So many people who believe that Donald Trump is not a good fit posted Hillary, MLK Jr, Rupi Kaur, and other quotes followed by captions filled with their feelings. Reading these inspired to write my own.

I am at a loss for words. Tuesday night will be etched in my mind forever and ever. As I sat on the couch, sobbing, watching as the states continued to turn blue and red. As the electoral continued to add up for a man who is not fit to run this country. As the gap between one of the most devoted women in the entire nation and a man who took up politics as a hobby continued to grow, I became numb. I am still completely numb to all of this but somewhere in the void my body is in, there is anger, hatred, and fear. I am angry at the people who voted for the third party.  I hate people who thought he was a good fit for president and I fear for the future of our nation.I know one thing for sure. We cannot stop. We have made so much progress in the move towards equality in the last 8 years and we cannot let this man end that march for us. We have to stand together and we cannot stop fighting. We have so much ass to kick so let’s get to kicking.


Thank you and I’m sorry

Nov. 9: What do you want to say to Hillary Clinton today?

It is with a heavy heart that I write this post. I stayed up all night waiting, watching, crying, getting hopeful, and then crying again. I am numb and have completely dissociated from everything. Donald Trump won the presidency. People keep calling him President trump and I keep pinching myself hoping to wake up from this nightmare America has become. I had planned on writing this post as a congratulatory, and now, just the opposite.

Hillary, to sum everything I want to say to you in one sentence it is: Thank you and I am sorry.

Thank you for not giving up. Thank you for persevering for women, families, people of color, the LGBTQIA+ community, and other minorities. You have given us so much hope. Thank you. Thank you for giving me the hope to have a woman president. I never thought I would see the day that there was a possibility to say “My president is a woman.” While it may not be you, you have shown women that they can do anything they want. Thank you for devoting your life to making America a country worth living in. I know not everyone liked you from the start, and I know not everyone likes you now, but you devoted your entire life to this country, and not many people (including our next president) can say they did that. Thank you for putting up with your opponent, the media, the citizens of this country. All people do is give you hate for those emails. We get it. They happened. Every politician, every person makes big mistakes and yours have been drug out long enough. You aren’t being taken to court for rape charges, but you are being investigated for deleting emails about your lunch order. Thank you for being the bigger person. Thank you for empowering so many women and minorities to dream big. People fail and you can still get back on your feet and try again. Thank you for trying. Thank you for never quitting on America. Thank you for never quitting on me.

I am sorry. I am sorry you lost. I am sorry you devoted your whole life to a country that is filled with hate, intolerance, ignorance, and a lack of morals. I am so sorry everyone got your hopes up on this election and you still lost. I am sorry you lost the election to  a man who took politics up as a hobby 18 months ago. I am sorry you worked your ass off the past 18 months only to have been defeated by a Cheeto. I am sorry the media always puts you down and will say anything to get the negative attention off of Trump. I am sorry you will never be President Clinton (unless you run again) I am sorry that your children, grandchildren, and all the children of this country will never be able to call you president Clinton. I am sorry that I hated you at first. I didn’t hate you per say, but I agreed with whatever Bernie supporters said about you because I wanted Bernie. You are just as if not more qualified than him. I am sorry that so many people did the same. I am sorry that the actions of people around you from 20 years ago are more dictating of a person than what someone said in the past week. I am sorry that we failed you. I am sorry that all of your hard work didn’t pay off in the end. I am sorry.

With tears staining my cheeks and keyboard, and a much needed hot shower and cup of tea on the way, I must sign off. Hillary Diane Rodham Clinton, thank you for believing in America and trying to help us and I am so deeply sorry we did not accept your help.


What happiness means to me

To me, happiness is such an arbitrary term. It differs for everyone. To me, happiness is sitting alone in a coffee shop, typing away at my computer, letting the intoxicating aroma of the grounds fill my nostrils. Happiness is feeling a crisp autumn breeze blow against my face as the smells of cinnamon, vanilla, and pumpkin dance around me. Happiness is seeing goats. Happiness is receiving a package in the mail, just waiting to be unwrapped. Happiness is getting my nails painted a new color, and tapping my freshly painted fingers on every surface I find.Happiness is seeing a dog, its tail wagging as it rushes their owner to my side so it can sniff me as I pet its head, even just for a moment. Happiness is when I can perfectly apply my liquid lipstick… the first time. Happiness is a tattoo parlor. The wheels in my brain get to turning thinking of all of the ink I want on my skin. Happiness is seeing a band in concert, my cheeks flushing and my heart beating along with the amp as I realize that the people before my eyes are indeed real. This is happiness for me, what is it for you?

Quintessentially Autumn Day

Hi everyone, being the ‘basic’ white girl that I am, I believe fall is an amazing season. I just wish that fall didn’t involve getting sick (I type after downing any cold relief medicine I can find and surrounded by tissues). Nonetheless, there are some quintessential fall activities that I love doing and feel are truly necessary to do in order for my autumn to be complete.

Last year, living in San Diego, there was no fall. I went to a pumpkin patch with my sorority (tbt lol) and that pumpkin patch was in the parking lot of a mall. They had scattered bales of straw and loose straw all over to make it seem more realistic, but I KNEW. Everyone in my sorority had no idea that there were legit pumpkin patches and not just lame excuses for pumpkin patches like the one we were currently in.

This year, I was able to go to a pumpkin patch ( a real one mind you) with my sister and some of our friends. It was really nice being able to go out in the crisp fall air and search for the best pumpkin.

As fun as searching for the biggest and best-shaped pumpkin is, I always seem to forget that pumpkins are heavy… and expensive. So, after looking through every pumpkin we could, all of us opted for a ‘pie’ pumpkin rather than a traditional carving  pumpkin because I’m balling on a budget and we didn’t want to carry around these huge pumpkins all day.

picked our pumpkins!

After picking our pumpkins, we managed to see a children’s zoo. Curious as to what it was, we each paid the $13.50 (I can only pay $3.29 for a pumpkin but I’ll cut off my own leg to see some animals) entrance fee and headed in.

Preface: Not sure how many of you know, but I have an absolute love of goats. I don’t know why but I do.

As we took in our surroundings, we saw many animals. There were ducks, rabbits, chickens, roosters, pigs, cows, and GOATS. We checked out the duck pond (my sister used to think she was a duck when she was little and her Instagram handle has the word duck in it) and then crossed a cute covered bridge to make it to one of the many goat pens.

After all the tears

I immediately broke into tears as I saw my first goat. I then proceeded to tear my purse apart to find any quarter in my bag to buy feed to feed the goats with. My friend Casey finally found 2 and I was able to feed the goats and cry more.

feeding the goats

Random note: I guess I freaked out so much when I saw the goats I touched my mouth with my hand and then my face to get some hairs out of the way so for about 100 photos and 30 minutes I have lipstick all over my face. Good job Alicia… you idiot.

Note the lipstick above my lip and by my eyebrow

After we saw all of our animals, we did a cute corn maze. As we first walked in I said something along the lines of “wow I wish there were more dead ends instead of going straight through.” Right after I said that there were so many dead ends we got lost an insane amount of times. You get what you wish for I guess.

This was in front of the corn maze. There were only 4 of us so this little boy (whose mother took the picture) stepped in for us. Also my sister didn’t stick her head in far enough but she’s there

When we finally were able to escape the corn maze, we headed back to the main part of the patch. We bought apple cider donuts, chocolate covered pretzels, apple cider, hot chocolate… you know the works, and finally took a ton of cute photos.

apple cider donuts
my sister moved so the pano was sort of ruined

Once we purchased our pumpkins and had fulfilled our visit, we drove around and got lost (not really lost because I knew what city we were in and recognized most of the streets) while listening to good music. Good music, good friends, good weather, what more could you ask for? I love my pumpkin pals. My heart is happy and it was such a good day.

Until next time


PS. This was my 99th post so my next is 100 (yay for counting) and my blog turns 1 on the 29th so the next post from me will be on the 29th. I feel like 100 posts and my blogiversary are both big things so why not combine them? Anyway, adios.

P.P.S. Enjoy some more cute photos from Saturday

Society Told Me

Yesterday was World Mental Health Day. It has exploded on twitter and it makes me smile to know that there are so many people in this world who struggle with the same issues that I do. It also makes me smile knowing that there are so many people speaking out about their illnesses despite society constantly dehumanizing us for having them.

Mental illnesses have always been something I struggled with. Although when I first started struggling I didn’t know they were called mental illnesses and I merely thought I was some emo freak who wanted to die for attention, because that’s what society told me.

I can remember the first time I ever thought about killing myself in seventh grade and how I thought  would never be happy. I remember thinking that I belonged in an insane asylum which is why it showed up in every single one of my seventh grade art projects. I laughed it off but secretly thought I belonged in one, because that’s what society told me. I can remember the first night I self-harmed and how I had to cover my arms and legs and stomach at all costs in fear of someone calling me out for being a freak and ostracizing me, because that’s what society told them to do. I can remember defending one of my friends for cutting and saying she was just like us. Each of them told me I was “as crazy as her” for saying something like that, and they were afraid she would kill herself because of the cutting, because that’s what society told them, that everyone who cuts is emo and will kill themselves.

Here I am, 7 years after I wanted to kill myself for the first time. I still do sometimes but I begin to realize that this feeling will pass and it won’t make anything better. I can remember the last time I ever self-harmed, a little bit over a year ago. I remember how happy I was when I was one-year self-harm free and how much I cried on that day because I never thought I would live to see that day.

Today I want society to piss off. Mental illnesses are normal. 1 in 4 people have them. The stigma behind mental illnesses needs to stop. If I post this anywhere, ever, I guarantee most people will not even believe this is something I struggle from, because unlike what society tells you, people who live with mental illnesses can function in everyday society just like those without.

The last thing anyone wants to hear is that it gets better, but the one thing everyone needs to hear is that you are not alone. I needed to hear that 7 seven years ago, I needed to hear that last night. World Mental Health Day exists for people who suffer from mental illnesses to know they are not alone. We may feel like it so often, but we aren’t. This day also exists so that we can end this stigma that accompanies mental illnesses. This stigma is the reason I waited 5 years to get help, the reason so many other wait that long or don’t get help at all. Society has dehumanized people with mental illnesses and this is our day, to show that we are humans and we are just as capable. Everyone fights their own battles, mine just take place inside of me.


A goal of mine for as long as I can remember is to exude light. To be as radiant as humanly possible. Like those girls in the movies, whose aura matches her best friends in the back seats who drive around town with their windows down, music blasting into every wandering set of ears they pass.

Over the past 19 years of my life, I’ve come to the conclusion that this idea only exists in movies, that this goal is not something I can possible achieve, and no matter how hard I try, I will in this constant state of longing for this feeling I cannot have.

Despite this conclusion, my mind always wanders to why I can never achieve this. These radiant people I rarely come across of hear about seem so carefree and ethereal, and here I am, just the opposite. Why can’t i be like them? What did they have that I didn’t?

We are the same yet different, the same just under different circumstances. We both face the hardships this world puts on us, yet I just see them in this state, this unworldly state.They make the best of their circumstances, why can’t i make the best of mine?

When I choose to look beyond the hardships I face, beyond all of my obligations, and just focus on things that make me euphoric, I begin to realize,  I emanated light this whole time.