I just saw these guys for the first time ever.

And daaaaaaannnnnngggggg.

They were freaking good.

Also, nice to look at.

At this particular concert, there were a bunch of drunk girls yelling stupid things and embarrassing themselves.

Also, a girl got cheesed at me for pushing her. If people would just learn that when you're in a crowd of a billion people at a concert, you'll probably get touched and pushed around, then things would just be a lot more chipper.

These are my two favorite songs from Parachute's new album.

The second one is one of those songs that gives me chills. And the end of the first one.
Now that's rare.


let's go

My current favs.
Yes, I am turning into a rap girl, a little bit. Don't hate.
It's partly cause I've been in the mood to dance party for weeks. 
My Fiesta started this urge.
Plus when I walk on campus and listen to 'I Can Transform Ya' I have an extra bounce in my step.
I'm branching out in other ways, too. Weird music like Regina Spektor's type is becoming more appealing to me. What the?
I dare you to sample them all.



Remember Peter? From the Sean Kingston concert?

I do.

Sometimes I see him on campus.

Every time I see him there's always a surprise in store. You really never know what he'll be dressed as.

The other day I sat down at a computer in the computer lab between two boys. I looked over and there was Peter! He was sporting a hat like this and some longer scraggly hair. It made my day. Then he stood up and made my week. He was wearing black hooker boots. None of that silver crap he used to wear. He is moving up in the world with black. Pants tucked in and all. I only took a mental picture, which I haven't yet figured out how to copy and paste to the interwebs.

He is one of my favorite people. And he doesn't even know it. He also doesn't even know that I'm making him famous right now.


viva la fiesta

It was Friday night last. The air was chilled and the sky was dark as night, because it was night. A little white girl decided to throw a Mexican Fiesta. She spread bean dip all over the kitchen table (separated by plastic wrap), and borrowed speakers the size of a small fridge. The mood was set with a black light and blaring music.

Slowly, people trickled in. And the party began.
People were bumping and grinding and dancing like chitlins.
It was the dance party of a lifetime.

Things got interesting.

Very interesting.

We danced to Mexican songs like I Can Transform Ya, Party Rock Anthem, and Say Ahh.
Basically, it was an excellente fiesta.

Fact: You can never trust a fake Mexican.
Fact: You can always trust a Luchador.



If you don't know my mom, chances are you don't know what cool is. No offense.
It's just that I googled the definition of 'cool' and these are the results:


Adjective: Fashionably attractive or impressive.
   - I always wore sunglasses to look cool.
   - Bonnie is cool.
Noun: The quality of being like Bonnie.

So you can see that I'm not making this up.

So since probably some of you don't know what that definition means, I'll tell you.

There's a lot of fun things you can do when you have a cool mom. Like crafts, eating out, chatting, making rolls or other goodies, eating delicious mom-made food, being punny, going boating, laughing, grocery shopping, and making sure your bed is made.

I've learned some valuable lessons from Mom.

One thing is that when you're boating and you're about to jump into the cold water, it suddenly becomes a 'hot summer day'.

Another thing is that you better go potty before you leave the house. And also make sure everyone else does.

I also learned from Mother that 'smack' is the new 'snap'.  One time Mom, a sister or two, and myself were making some food. It turned out perfect and Mom said, "SMACK!" Kinda like how people would say, "Snap!"

Sometimes she can be a little sarcastic...
Lindsay told me the story of she and mom going to Costco. Lindsay got out of the car and started walking while Mom just sat in the car.  Lindsay went back and said, "Mom, are you comin?"  Mom said, "No, I'm just going to sit here while you go in."

She called me gothic when I dyed my hair black... even though I wore yellow and other brightly colored shirts.

Back when I took guitar lessons from Jon Dansie and described him to her she asked, "Why do old musicians always have Jesus haircuts?!" If only I knew.

I like her.