dora the explora shouldn't be driving.

For more reasons than one. For example, she's like what, ten...eight? What would ten year olds need to be driving a car for? Also, if she were in situation in which it were alright for her to drive and it actually be legal, another problem would arise:

I'm not even sure how to describe this picture. At first glance, it's humorous to me. At second glance it breaks my heart to little pieces, then shreds those little pieces and pounds those remains until they become chewable and are then chewed, then spit out and pounded some more 'till they become power and are sprinkled on the ground where they're dampened and wet with urine...
So, I grew up in a community which had more white people than any other race until recent years. We've had an American flag held up on our porch until recently (its so old, torn and the color is washed out so it needs to be replaced) and my father has had his citizenship for a few years now and considers himself an American, as he should.
Thing is, I...I can't bring myself to say that I've grown up knowing and living the life of an illegal immigrant because

1. I was born here (This country)
2. I was raised surrounded by southern
white culture

But my parents are your typical story of the struggles of living in this country illegally...something that I am IMMENSELY proud of admitting (I'm so thankful at how far they've gotten and what they've accomplished).
However, I suppose that I can only feel empathy for that side of my heritage seeing as I have been granted the gift of living here without fear of deportation. Yet, that does not keep me from shedding tears along with my mom when the news comes up with more stories about struggling, poverty, discrimination and utter helplessness that comes with living here illegally. Who wouldn't?
I do feel ashamed to say that although I've always wanted to be some sort of activist in getting the world to understand what it's like to risk everything for a country that supposedly offers everything, I've never known how or what to do. This is also because of a couple of reasons:

1. I don't know how to do this effectively
2. I'm not even sure where I stand
in my own beliefs when it comes to the question, "Should we be doing more to
keep them out of the country or be doing more to get them out?"

But now that the Dreaded-Arizona-Law is getting so much closer to us, I reflect on my race and what I think I should be feeling.
I feel dread, for sure. But also confused about why I feel dread. It's not going to affect me and my family...yet it will all the same. It seems to me like stopping someone for their appearance/race is discrimination joining forces with the law, don't you think?
And then I start thinking. And my thinking usually revolves around these kinds of thoughts:

Apparently there are people who think of illegal immigrants as an unwanted
infestation of roaches and ants. It's just a notch above being a Jew. Hmm. Maybe
they should just combine the two and get it over an done with?...Yes, yes.
Get it over and done with. Off to the gas chambers!....oh, wait! No, no,
don't send them to the gas chambers, we're above that. How about
just chaining them up and keeping them as dogs? Yes, that's the more
human thing to do.

Yeah. I have very dry/sarcastic/douche-baggy humor. I suck.

Sigh. Then again, I might not really know what I'm talking about. I'm terribly dense when it comes to these matters. I like to lay in wait until something happens and I'm finally sure about what I've decided.
Unfortunately that takes a while to happen. A while to understand. A while to decide on something.
At least I know one thing, though.

Next time I have poison ready to kill an infestation of bugs, Imma hesitate a bit.

my college geometry teacher is boho. [first day of art school]

[Disclaimer: no pictures are mine.]

It's amusing as I walk in to see that my teacher must be around his late twenties/early thirties and has an absolute boho look. I can tell you that from the second I saw him, I knew he'd be one of my favorites.
He wore a light blue polo that FIT, plaid skinny jeans, he had curly sandy hair and a braid headband on.
Freakin' awesome.His physical appearance is not really close to this, but his personality seems to be able to relate to this...kinda. Only without the suit underneath. Replace it with a polo and imagine him as a guy that has to have done weed at some point in his life.
Our geometry class consists of eight people today. Incredibly weird...especially after twelve years of being in a crammed class room and extra students trying to find empty chairs and bring in new desks from other rooms.I've already committed my first "Freshman" crime in which I went to the bookstore to ask where my class was...No one showed me the other side of the building before! D:
Oh wells. I liked my awkwardness. It's quirky, I guess---- and I tend to get on people's good side with it...most of the time.
So, after that: the two hours to blow off between classes began. Thing is, my friend Danielle and I live forty five minutes away from school and since we're not complete idiots, we decide to save our gas and sit outside and eat.
Our Geo Teach came out to have a smoke, attempted to make small talk, [I believe] and then continued to smoke his cigarette in silence. And after that he left.
I should have said something. I should have not been silent... but, oh well. For some reason this doesn't bother me as much as it would of a few months ago. (I think I'm progressing?? :D)
Danielle came back from the bookstore with a sketch pad like a total art nerd that she is and lent me a piece of paper for me to begin as well.
It was nice. I liked it.
Only a couple of minutes later, however, we moved into the student lounge after we realize we're going to melt in the heat. [stupid hot, dense, over-bearing weather]
And then came the disappointment.
Our teacher for our next class was MIA [nerd-speak for missing-in-action].
With nowhere to be found, Danielle and I resorted to our quiet selves and doodled away, listening in as a loud group of kids talked about everything that I hate about the Internet.
Example? E n c y c l o p e d i a d r a m a t i c a.
*Cringe*.
Needless to say that this class lacked the enthusiasm and warmth I felt in my geometry class. And the teacher. Who never showed.
Sooooo, after waiting for about forty-five minutes someone finally came in and took roll. After that we were allowed to leave early.
Jesus Christ. I hope my first impression of this class is wrong. I hope it is soooooooo wrong.
Tomorrow more classes await me, more people to meet. I really hope I DON'T meet people that remind me of the ones I left behind in high school.
I meant technically my school is more of an art school than a college.
But still. It's not supposed to be high school all over again.
Pretty sure I'd die if it was.

cringing at their disgusting cuteness.

I try to hold back the cringe as I become aware that my best friend's boyfriend has his arm around her and she's leaning on his shoulder and----what's this? Oh my god. I heard a kiss.


Alright. So let me be honest with myself: I cringed because it's my best friend. Yeah, I was aware that she'd been in previous relationships before this guy but, she's never ever introduced me to any of them. Something I don't really mind.
And to be honest, I don't mind being the third wheel as couples. You know...if they didn't ACT like couples. Cause I have. I adore those couples who let me feel comfortable with them.

This was something that I was hoping she would hold her word to. He didn't get the memo.
So halfway through Toy Story 3, I'm sliding down on my chair feeling slightly uncomfortable.
Here's the thing: my best friend is my best friend because we might as well be telepathic, have far too many things in common and should have just been born as twins...but when it comes to personal situations...we don't ever tell each other shit.
And I like that relationship. I keep my experiences to myself; as does she. We could talk about just about anything and have almost no real barriers.
But once again: we don't tell each other shit.
I like to refer to her as an "emotional robot", even though it's totally clear to me that she's not---no matter how much she tries to convey that to me.
I just see it as really strange to actually be confronted with what I've known for a while. It just feels like it's something I know she doesn't want me to see and I suddenly feel like there's a giant elephant in the room that I'm trying to ignore.
But there's that other emotion running through me [other than the very real tears through Toy Story 3, which you should definitely see]. Yes, other than embarrassment for my sad third-wheely-self and disgust as his over-willingness to display public affection...
I was jealous.
So, her guy isn't going to be the winner of "Most-Attractive-Boyfriend-of-the-Year" but he's obviously very...uh...."sprung" on her...
I didn't even know how sprung he was until we snuck into Eclipse.
Oh my god. I was seriously considering standing up and leaving if they started making out. Not only because it would be embarrassing, but I'd also be feeling far too jealous and lonely for it...especially while watching ECLIPSE of all fucking movies.
Sigh. It makes me feel so sorry about myself. I would have wallowed even more in my own self pity...
Had it not been for one thing, I probably would have died in bitterness.
I think I have a new love. And his name is Art.


Art School* that is.
Just got done with orientation and I already know I'm gonna love it. I've also spotted some eye candy. Nothing too exciting happened yesterday [orientation], unless you want to hear the ramblings about how I can't wait to get it started.
All I know for sure, however, is that I'm more inclined to WANT to hang out with the friends I make at this school than the ones I had in high school.
And did I mention that there's definitely plenty of eye candy?
:D