Wednesday, January 19, 2011
fuckyeahmrluc.tumblr.com
is pretty genius.
'Nough said. (:
*Note to future self: That was your Calc. AB teacher during junior year.
'Nough said. (:
*Note to future self: That was your Calc. AB teacher during junior year.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
More winter break...
AHAHAHAHA, OMG THIS WAS HILARIOUSS.
So apparently, there was a rat/mouse in our home.
And when we woke up the next morning, Kaitlyn's head was gone.
Well, her top head brain part anyway.
Guess who got hungry? xD
& then Kait was whining all day about how it ate her but not anybody else.
And I literally just ROFL-ed.
But I guess karma hit me because I was the one who screamed Monday morning.
Because guess who I found?
The suspect. Crying/squeaking in its death trap. :( I'm sorry it had to be like that.
I thought this tile was COOLBEANS.
But my mother thought otherwise.
Because guess where it's made in?!
VN.
Oh, mother. You were made in VN too, y'know?
This is what my kumquat does when she's bored.
This too. But she does this more.
She likes to ... umm... spend her time in that lil corner.
Don't ask why.
Monday, January 17, 2011
Winter Break
I know this is a bit late, but here it is anyway!
My winter break routine was a bit crazy. I think every single day was like this:
Just kidding, but boy, was I tired!
My winter break routine was a bit crazy. I think every single day was like this:
- Wake up.
- Go to lunch with Mommy.
- Go wall shopping with Daddy, T&K.
- Go home.
- Go Christmas shopping with Mommy.
- Wrap presents.
Just kidding, but boy, was I tired!
34 individually unique gingerbread men and women.
Made from scratch.
Decorated according to the actual person.
And packaged.
Yeah, that's right. What have YOU been doing?
Sadly, that would be the time in AM.
Coolest couch ever.
Idk why that square thing is there, but I have a feeling it lights up.
Hi everybody. Her name's Pooh.
@ the pound, where we got Blossom.
My family @ Tiffers's.♥
Too bad Tuyen&Na moved out. :(
♥
This is what I did... Christmas morning.
Right after opening presents.
Oh god. How we all look in the morning. Yikes.
Now I'm wondering why the fudge they flipped my picture.
BTW, Kait drew that for our fam. ♥
Another one of those animal hat/gloves thing.
Christmas in the park!
I stuck my head out the window just to get this shot.
I love the sky when it's like this. ♥
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Maybe my dream was @ Wal-Mart. xD
I woke up to find myself entering this furniture-type store. Constantly shifting from left to right, my eyes tried to identify the familiar location when instead, they unexpectedly caught another pair of eyes staring back.
After a long while of mere observation, the owner of the green irides broke the silence, "You don't remember me, do you?" His bittersweet smile shone a sense of familiarity but, just like this place that I had an eerie affinity to, I could not recognize who he was. [His smile was exactly like Jake's smile in "Sweet Home Alabama."]
"Should I?"
He amusingly responded, "I don't know," and walked away from me, returning some misplaced item back to its shelf. I furrowed my brow in response to his open-ended response, the kind of response that bugs me so. My newly-trimmed bangs bounced as I tried to catch up with him.
Still unsure whether or not I should be approaching strangers, I simply walked beside him as he worked. This procedure was not working out so well, because I became bored almost instaneously and decided to do something--anything. So, I subtly glanced at his nametag: "Duke." The name rolled off my tongue like I've said it a thousand times before. Yet, when I tried reproducing the memories that associated with it, my brain went blank. How come I can't seem to remember yesterday? The day before? Why can't I seem to remember anything?
I didn't want to leave myself vulnerable, but I couldn't resist the temptation of knowledge. Why do I have a feeling that this Duke knows so much about me... but I so little of him?
It was my turn to break the silence. "Do you know me?"
"Sure, you could say so."
Ugh. I've always hated such open-ended responses. He was begininning to really irritate me, like my 11th grade English teacher.
We kept walking around the store, he, returning more misplaced items, and I,observing his actions and appearance.
He looked like the kind of guy that girls swoon over. Not that I would, but from what I saw, he wasn't heavy-built. Shadows of muscles peeked out from under his short sleeves. His hair was tousled in a way that said he cared about his appearance but didn't want to seem like he was trying too hard. He wore the store uniform, a navy blue apron, over his lower half, which said that he followed the rules but wasn't exactly a goody-two-shoes either. His baggy jeans, which weren't sagged (thank goodness!), showed that he wasn't the ghetto nor gangster type. He was the guy who ate sushi with you even if he hated it. The guy who went to the library to study with you even though he didn't have midterms the next day. The guy who wouldn't mind pushing you on the swings for hours and hours and hours. The guy who would do anything to see your smile.
Wait, hold up. Where was all this coming from? I barely know the guy. Scratch that. I don't know this guy at all. At least, that's what my head tells me.
In an attempt to learn more and make conversation, I asked him, "So... do you work here?"
Wow, that was lame. He should have replied, "Of course I work here, idiot!" but instead, he just pointed to the nametag and smiled.
Oh, that bittersweet smile again. Why is he doing this to me? Why do I feel like his complete identity is within my reach but I can't find which direction to follow?
Agitated, I confessed, "Look, if I'm bothering you--"
"You're not bothering me."
"Then why aren't you saying anything?"
"Because," he paused what he was doing for a moment and looked around as if trying to find the answer somewhere else, "because I don't know what to say?"
Wrong answer. I turned around and began to walk away, only to find myself stopped by a strong hold on my wrist.
Still not turning around to face him, I demanded, "Let go of me." I was afraid that if I turned back around, I would never be able to leave. Something about this place--something about him just completely puts me off track and I can't seem to identify what.
"Not again, I won't."
TO BE CONTINUED...
I have so got to do homework now. Oh, and by the way, this was all part of a dream. Except I exaggerated, of course. To make it more story-like. And I left out one important part... which hopefully I'll remember to include in the continuation. Haha, it's such a typical romance story, but whatever. & hey, I might just twist the ending. Oh well. We'll see. LATER GATORS.
P.S. This is such a Butthead kind of read.
P.P.S. This was supposed to be "private" but uh, I don't know how to set my post private, so yeah.
P.P.P.S. Too cheesy? Comments?
After a long while of mere observation, the owner of the green irides broke the silence, "You don't remember me, do you?" His bittersweet smile shone a sense of familiarity but, just like this place that I had an eerie affinity to, I could not recognize who he was. [His smile was exactly like Jake's smile in "Sweet Home Alabama."]
"Should I?"
He amusingly responded, "I don't know," and walked away from me, returning some misplaced item back to its shelf. I furrowed my brow in response to his open-ended response, the kind of response that bugs me so. My newly-trimmed bangs bounced as I tried to catch up with him.
Still unsure whether or not I should be approaching strangers, I simply walked beside him as he worked. This procedure was not working out so well, because I became bored almost instaneously and decided to do something--anything. So, I subtly glanced at his nametag: "Duke." The name rolled off my tongue like I've said it a thousand times before. Yet, when I tried reproducing the memories that associated with it, my brain went blank. How come I can't seem to remember yesterday? The day before? Why can't I seem to remember anything?
I didn't want to leave myself vulnerable, but I couldn't resist the temptation of knowledge. Why do I have a feeling that this Duke knows so much about me... but I so little of him?
It was my turn to break the silence. "Do you know me?"
"Sure, you could say so."
Ugh. I've always hated such open-ended responses. He was begininning to really irritate me, like my 11th grade English teacher.
We kept walking around the store, he, returning more misplaced items, and I,observing his actions and appearance.
He looked like the kind of guy that girls swoon over. Not that I would, but from what I saw, he wasn't heavy-built. Shadows of muscles peeked out from under his short sleeves. His hair was tousled in a way that said he cared about his appearance but didn't want to seem like he was trying too hard. He wore the store uniform, a navy blue apron, over his lower half, which said that he followed the rules but wasn't exactly a goody-two-shoes either. His baggy jeans, which weren't sagged (thank goodness!), showed that he wasn't the ghetto nor gangster type. He was the guy who ate sushi with you even if he hated it. The guy who went to the library to study with you even though he didn't have midterms the next day. The guy who wouldn't mind pushing you on the swings for hours and hours and hours. The guy who would do anything to see your smile.
Wait, hold up. Where was all this coming from? I barely know the guy. Scratch that. I don't know this guy at all. At least, that's what my head tells me.
In an attempt to learn more and make conversation, I asked him, "So... do you work here?"
Wow, that was lame. He should have replied, "Of course I work here, idiot!" but instead, he just pointed to the nametag and smiled.
Oh, that bittersweet smile again. Why is he doing this to me? Why do I feel like his complete identity is within my reach but I can't find which direction to follow?
Agitated, I confessed, "Look, if I'm bothering you--"
"You're not bothering me."
"Then why aren't you saying anything?"
"Because," he paused what he was doing for a moment and looked around as if trying to find the answer somewhere else, "because I don't know what to say?"
Wrong answer. I turned around and began to walk away, only to find myself stopped by a strong hold on my wrist.
Still not turning around to face him, I demanded, "Let go of me." I was afraid that if I turned back around, I would never be able to leave. Something about this place--something about him just completely puts me off track and I can't seem to identify what.
"Not again, I won't."
TO BE CONTINUED...
I have so got to do homework now. Oh, and by the way, this was all part of a dream. Except I exaggerated, of course. To make it more story-like. And I left out one important part... which hopefully I'll remember to include in the continuation. Haha, it's such a typical romance story, but whatever. & hey, I might just twist the ending. Oh well. We'll see. LATER GATORS.
P.S. This is such a Butthead kind of read.
P.P.S. This was supposed to be "private" but uh, I don't know how to set my post private, so yeah.
P.P.P.S. Too cheesy? Comments?
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Lady in Red
Uh, I don't know what technique this is called. I think we learn it in Photo 2 though. :(
I hope I'll take it next year.
Nevertheless, one day, imma perfect this picture. One day. You can bet on it.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Paper Scissors Rock: Tiffers vs. Moi
on the way home from Carmel Beach, summer of '09
AHAHAH, I WIN, TIFFERS!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)