Pro-procrastination

Adventures in Interviewing Myself

2012-02-21T19:39:00.000-08:00

It is a typical February afternoon here in Northfield, MN. The floor of Paulina Lopez's studio in Boliou ( the neglected warehouse that functions as Carleton College's art building) is covered in newsprint, chalk dust, plastic curlies from her relief blocks and the Death Blanket that she made last week for Advanced Sculpture. Much like Bill Watterson's Calvin might spread his peas around his dinner plate to make it seem like he has been eating, Paulina has spent the last 8 weeks of Winter Term spreading her crap around her studio space to give the appearance of passionate art-making. Is it working? Why doesn't she just work on comps instead of writing about comps? Will she ever finish the "It" audiobook she's been listening to since last year? The answers to these questions and more are revealed in this exclusive interview.

Paulina 1: Thank you so much for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet. As I'm sure you're aware, I'm running out of ways to put off my ever-increasing mountain of homework, and this interview has just made that so much easier.

Paulina 2: I'm happy to oblige.

P1: Let's get down to business, shall we? Tell me, how exactly does it feel to be done with the GRE?

P2: I'm so glad you asked. It feels GREat. .. I've been sitting on that one ever since I walked out of the Prometric place at Edina/Eden Prarie (what's the difference, right?) but I didn't want to say it until I got my scores back and could say with a fair level of surety that I wouldn't be retaking it soon. WHICH I WILL NOT BE DOING. BECAUSE I GOT MY SCORES TODAY AND BOY DOES PASSING BY WITH BARELY ABOVE GROUND COLORS FEEL GOOD. ..Wouldn't you aGREe?

P1: How many more terrible GRE puns do you have?

P2: I could only think of those two. Forgive me, I was too busy recovering from all the PEMDAS review to go crazy with the wordplay this time. Sooo anyway, I'm done with the GRE. Booyah. .. I bet you're GREen with envy. (Sorry, I just thought of that one now.)

P1: Are there any other recent accomplishments you want to share?

P2: Oh man, YES. I recently found out that Carrie Underwood and Colbie Caillat are two different people. Who'da thought? (not sure whether I spelled that right) But seriously, consider my paradigm shifted. All this time, I'd been skipping over Carrie's tracks in Pandora because I thought she'd be singing about cute bubbly gingerbread dreams or whatever the actual Colbie Caillat sings about. Two weeks ago I was off my game (thank the lord) and "Before He Cheats" started playing before I saw Carrie's name on the computer screen. Have you heard that song?!

P1: Well, it came out in 2007, so..

P2: I know, I'm still recovering from the fact that I've gone 5ish years (yeah GRE math!) without knowing this song. It could've come in handy for all those times I wanted to ruin someone's pretty little souped up 4-wheel drive! Which add up to about zero, because Mark Irish's twenty year old Explorer wasn't pretty or souped up, and besides, the only car I've ever envisioned beating to death belonged to the Northgate Driving School during my second (and last) practice driving hour in eleventh grade and wasn't pretty, souped up, or a 4 wheel drive. It was one of those cars built with an extra set of brakes in the shotgun seat, which I'd always assumed were fake and just there to give the student driver a reassuring sense of security. Speaking from personal experience, I can assure you that the extra brakes are actually very, very functional.

No, but I was actually really impressed with myself for knowing what a Louisville Slugger is when Carrie mentioned it in the chorus. I've gone to the Louisville Slugger museum/factory, so I think I'd know exactly how to use it on a couple of headlights. And I still owe Northgate four practice driving hours, soooooo you know.

P1: I still don't get how you could think Colbie Caillat and Carrie Underwood were the same person..

P2: Don't get judgy, anyone could've made the same mistake. They're both blonde. They both play guitar.. I think. Anyway, the good news isn't over yet! Because apart from discovering "Before He Cheats," I also learned that Carrie Underwood is the voice behind "Jesus Take The Wheel," which I have loved half-sarcastically, half-sincerely ever since Karen K. showed it to our seminary class in 9th grade.

P1: Any other music-related accomplishments?

P2: Duh. Well, no. This next one isn't an accomplishment as much as it is an opinion.. but here goes. The Spanish version of Shakira's "Rabiosa" is way better than the English version with Pitbull. I KNOW, WHAT?

P1: But it has Pitbull!

P2: I knoooow but trust me, the non-Pitbull one is better. It may have something to do with the music video, which is the same for both versions and doesn't show Pitbull at all, so you're just watching Shakira flirt with this guy who is obviously not Pitbull while Pitbull is singing seductively.. it's weird. Like, bad weird, not freakyhawt weird.

P1: Tell a little bit about your position on the Carleton College Memes FB page.

P2: I was totally for this page before it existed, because I was tired of hearing crickets whenever I browsed month-old post after month-old post on r/carletoncollege. I thought, "Oh, a Facebook memes page will be so much more dynamic and colorful and fun." I had envisioned people investing as much energy into the page as they do writing incoherent, unfunny CLAP articles every Friday, only it would be even better because Facebook wouldn't have an 11 pm submission deadline OR pile up on my coffee table each week. I hadn't, however, envisioned 75% of the memes being THE SAME CONDESCENDING WONKA STOLAF JOKE. So.. back to r/carletoncollege it is. Which isn't so bad, really, because that's where this nugget of truth resides.

P1: What has been your most empowering experience in the past few weeks?

P2: You mean other than memorizing the "Before He Cheats" lyrics and singing it for two hours straight while I hammered away at advanced sculpture stuff? It's hard to get more empowering than that. Buuuuut there was that moment last Sunday afternoon during a church potluck when this 6 year-old kid named Connor maniacally piled my fruit salad onto his plate while yelling "This is my favorite thing EVERRR!" Talk about a self-confidence booster. Never mind the fact that 10 minutes later, I saw him telling a cherry pie, "Ooooh, Connor likes what he sees. Connor's gonna eat you all up." First of all, talking to food in third person shouldn't be so stigmatized. Secondly, Connor didn't say Cherry Pie was his favorite thing ever, so I'd like to think I still have that special place in his heart.

P1: This has certainly been enlightening. Any last words before checking out?

P2: You mean something that will bring inspiration, personal growth, love and/or happiness to people's everyday lives? Well, I'd like to second searchquotes.com in saying that you can't go wrong with any Young Money quotes. 16 out of the 29 inspirational Young Money quotes are all from Bed Rock, so you know that's promising. BUT if you're still skeptical, feel free to peruse this other source of inspiration/personal growth/etc. YOU'RE WELCOME.

Sad Timez

2012-02-18T16:53:00.000-08:00

Well, February has wasted no time in becoming the most depressing, soul-sucking month of my life since the time my brother RUINED Harry Potter 5 for me when I was a quarter into the book, and I had to go through the next 400 pages knowing that Sirius was just gonna die and that Harry would never have a family. Yes, it was horrible. Yes, I got my revenge by telling him that Dumbledore dies in Book 6. No, I don't regret it for a second.

So February was shaping up to be a fantaaastic time right after the Ebony show, which I will write about later. I was actually planning a whole post about Ebony and dance at Carleton College, which was completely thrown on the back burner when Mike Freaking Kelley killed himself. Of all the art majors at Carleton, I'm probably one of the least informed or passionate about contemporary artists, mainly because I spend my free time having karaoke contests with Ernesto to see which one of us is better at Nickelback's "How You Remind Me" instead of watching Art21 or whatever good art students do. You'll understand, then, that it is a Big Deal for me to go out of my way and fall in love (actually) with someone's work. I was first introduced to Mike Kelley's work when I saw "More Love Hours Than Can Ever Be Repaid" at the Walker Art Museum's Spectacular of Vernacular show about a year ago, and later when I came across "Educational Complex."

Since then, I've written essays and a powerpoint about Kelley because his work largely informed my comps (my senior major thesis project that is currently sucking up all of my time, energy and belief in happiness), so I should be able to write a sentence about why this guy's work impacts me so profoundly, but honestly I just want to wallow in sadness while listening to "I Will Always Love You."

... YOU KNEW THIS WAS COMING. Whitney Houston is gone. Before any of you bring up the fact that Etta James ALSO died and I didn't write an incoherent, whiney blog post about that fantastic black singer whose music I seriously wanted to mashup for Da Wedding, let me point out that unlike Etta James, Whitney Houston has been a part of my family since 1992, when my dad got a some sort of cassette-playing alarm clock that would play "I Will Always Love You" at 6:30 a.m. every morning for an entire year. I loved Whitney Houston before I knew what she was singing about. That song is practically engraved into my eardrum. AND there is the fact that I spent the last two weeks of fall term writing a comparative paper about the role of Whitney Houston's music in the book and film versions of "Waiting to Exhale." Remember? The paper also provided some insightful insight into the steamy relationship between Whitney's character and the guy from Allstate commercials.. this is one of the (many) (MANY) scenes I memorized after watching the movie 4 times (seriously). You know, for academic purposes.

You'll be disappointed to hear that because of Whitney's unexpected death, they've had to cancel the promising Waiting to Exhale sequel.

Let me ask you this. Is it a coincidence that Mike Kelley and Whitney Houston died after the groundbreaking scholarship I produced about them?

I
think
not.

So, this is a public service announcement that the following individuals should consider themselves in danger of death, having recently been the subjects of Paulina's homework: Adam Brody, Rachel Bilson, Katrin Sigurdadottir, Bill Clinton and Lauren DiCioccio.

Read This To Feel Cooler Than Me

2012-01-27T23:46:00.000-08:00

Ernesto has been out of town on another one of those nErD cOnVenTioNz (i.e. medical school interviews) (i.e. paths to an actual future) since Thursday, which means I've had the entire apartment to myself to go crazy. Carpe diem! Git'er dun! Just do it! Here's how I've seized the day so far:

1. I woke up promptly at 11, after staying up until 3:30 a.m. the night before for no apparent reason other than to watch The Office while eating choco-banana muffins. (It was actually only one muffin.. I ate it slowly so it would last the entire episode. I'm not sure whether that makes my night more or less pathetic.)

2. At some point while singing/washing the dishes, I came up with "I ain't no challah-back girl" and thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world. Like, I couldn't get past the chorus without giggling uncontrollably, which was probably a good thing because I wouldn't have been able to come up with more dumb food puns for the rest of the song. Honestly, I still think it's the most hilarious thing in the world, partly because "challah-back girl" conjures up this delightful image of Gwen Stefani using a loaf of challah as a track baton in a 4x400 relay, while "hollaback girl"only makes me think of Gwen Stefani in a cheerleader outfit. You decide which one would make a better GIF.

I just got 245,000 results after Googling "challah back girl," so it's probably too late to use it as my original catchphrase. Under most circumstances I might get a little depressed, BUT I also found this site, where I can still feel like it's my original catchphrase by purchasing "I ain't no challah-back girl" business cards at the very reasonable price of 7 cents each for each order of 1000! Never mind the fact that I, 1) am not Jewish, 2) don't have a company. The last time I checked, I live in Amurrika, where I'm free to buy 1000 business cards that have my full name printed on every line.

I'm, like, 5% tempted to actually do this just to spite Ernesto, who is probably stuffing his face with challah at some charming bakery on Brookline Ave. as I type this. You think you can just fly to Boston without me and shrug it off?! Think again, sucka.

3. Speaking of healthy communication in relationships. Today I decided that my New Year's resolution will be to not suck at texting. There are two specific ways in which I am the worst texter I know. The first way only applies to Ernesto, because only Ernesto would put up with it. To sum up a very long, heartbreaking story involving a comatose Blackberry to which I never got to say goodbye, my old phone broke and now I have a touchscreen piece of crap that puts up a hissy fit every time I try to unlock it to DO anything, but somehow manages to call my house whenever the fabric of my pockets or the dust particles in the air of my apartment so much as brush by the screen. Which they like to do between 2 and 4 in the morning, at least once a week. The phone also insists on typing 5 different letters when I very clearly only pressed one, and the autocorrect is a joke.

SO as an act of resistance, I refuse to correct my spelling whenever I text Ernesto, which may have something to do with the fact that he MADE me get this phone (yes, at gunpoint) (obviously not at gunpoint.. in case social services or someone is reading this) instead of the perfectly acceptable Blackberry with actual buttons, all because the non-Blackberry was $70 ish cheaper. Well, I can use those $70 to buy 1000 personalized business cards now, so I think we know who really won that battle.

Well, no one won that battle, because everything I send Ernesto looks like a drunk text (see Figure 1) AND I'm still stuck with this touchscreen phone that takes 3x longer to text with than a phone with actual buttons (so if the things I text you don't look like they're straight out of a Ke$ha music video, FEEL IMPORTANT). Also, I still don't have 1000 challah-back girl business cards. Lose-Lose.

Figure 1: Paulina Lopez's texts to Ernesto are 80% incomprehensible.

Second (and this applies to everyone), I take somewhere between one hour and 4 days to respond. Sometimes I don't respond at all. So.. my apologies if that's happened to you. I'm not trying to be a jerk. Usually, what's going on is something like this scenario (my thoughts are in purple):

(recieved text) Friend: blahblah insert funny thing here

(attempting to text a response) me: hahahaha wait how many 'ha's are too many? just one sounds sarcastic, whatever I'll go with three. although.. three seems a little much for something that wasn't exactly the most hilarious thing Friend has ever said. I have to make them work for my 'hahahas', don't I? Otherwise I'll have to add another 'ha' onto the actually funny stuff and that's gonna take forever to type out. lskjlfkjs ahh whatever I don't text Friend that often anyway that's ~~real funny~~ god I sound like a hick ~~really funny~~ that doesn't seem sincere ~~totes funny~~ wait will this person get that I'm making fun of abbreviations or does it seem like I'm actually abbreviating? Cause I'm trying to make fun of abbreviations here. I only sincerely abbreviate when I text Other Friend.. although now that I think about it, does Other Friend get that I'm sincerely abbreviating and not just making fun of abbreviating?

Aaaand that's how what should have been a very simple response never gets sent because I'm the most awkward person in the world.

(relevant at this point in the post:)

I Can't Believe It's Not Art

2012-01-26T18:00:00.000-08:00

I've never gone to an addiction recovery program, but I've seen enough episodes of The O.C./Grey's Anatomy/Arrested Development/other shows featuring well-to-do alcoholics to know that the first step is admitting you have a problem.

There are a couple of instances throughout this blog where I hint at my obsession with all things food-related, but even I didn't grasp the extent of my infatuation until recently completing a sculpture assignment that, as it turns out, is the fourth consecutive food-related artwork that I've made in the past 2 months. Below, I give you the artistic manifestations of my troubled, food-addicted subconscious:

Let Cake Eat Them. Felt, thread, zippers.

Prompt: Make a piece about connection.

This guy took me 2 weeks to finish, so I spent a looooong time daydreaming about real desserts during the process.

Putrescence. Satin, Sequins, Thread.

Prompt: Make your favorite word.
An excerpt from a future art history textbook that will undoubtedly be written about this work: "Much like Picasso went through a depressive Blue Period (or how Van Gogh went through an entire depressive career), this piece sheds some light on the more painful aspects of being in love with anything: having to say goodbye. The juxtaposition of fine materials with forms that reference a clear state of putrescence manifests the artist's inner struggle at this crossroad; by looking at the piece, the viewer can almost hear the artist whisper to the bowl of fruit, 'You are beautiful, no matter what they say,' before tossing it into the dumpster to avoid yet another fruit fly infestation."

Concessions at Weitz Cinema. Fake popcorn, fake coke, fake candy bars, fake nachos, fake pretzels.

Prompt: Make something site-specific.

I sincerely believe that more people would attend movies at Weitz if they could buy overpriced snacks. I know I'd rather pay $5 for a jumbo box of Sour Patch Kids than for a 2-day old parfait at the Sayles Cafe. (count the rhymes, imma poet)

I Keep On Fallin'. Flannel, Satin.

Prompt: Make something else that's site-specific.

It was in the making of this piece (at 2 in the morning while watching Arrested Development) that I realized all of my art was about food.

So now, I'm going to follow in the footsteps of Kirsten Cohen, Chief Webber and Lucille Bluth and weasel my way out of any interventions that threaten to separate me from my one true love.

1. It's not really a problem to think about food all of the time if food is my muse. Some people get The Dark Lady, some people get Yoko Ono, and I get the food pyramid. Potato/Potahto. (but no one says 'potahto,' so more like.. Coupon/Kyoopon)

2. This entire dilemma only exists because I initially denied food the condition of Art with a capital A to begin with. Luckily, people like Marcel Duchamp and Laurence Weiner have paved the road for making Non-Art into Art at my very whim. So.. food, I now declare you to be Art. Which makes my food-related sculptures actually art-related sculptures. Which in turn makes my art self-referential and snooty and fit for inclusion in fine institutions like ARTFORUM and the MoMA! Below, I present you just one of many works of art handcrafted by moi that you now have the privilege of admiring:

Enchilovin' It?

Another Helpful Visual Aid

2012-01-13T10:38:00.000-08:00

I came up with this last term, it started out as me sitting in an airport somewhere by myself, thinking about how cupcakes are the worst thing ever. I was also a little upset about the horrifyingly understated difference between solid pies and liquidy pies.

Unsung Heroes of 2011

2012-01-01T21:45:00.000-08:00

I just thought it'd be nice to give a shout-out to some of 2011's finest before the novelty of the new year tapers off. The Justin Bieber movie happened. Greek yogurt became a thing. It goes without saying that all of us have a non-sarcastic special place in our hearts for this year's musical masterpieces, like "Friday" and the entire 21 album (also, I like to think that Rebecca Black and Adele hit it off really well and are planning a secret made-to-dvd movie that will be this decade's version of "From Justin to Kelly").

I have my money on 2011 being remembered as the MiddleLopezShian Triple Wedding Megathon. If any Cams majors are reading this and still need an idea for a comps proposal, I have lots of exclusive wedding footage for what could be your career-making E! Hollywood Special on the 2011 Summer Wedding Megathon. I can't speak for Kate Middleton and Kim Kardashian, but I'd be willing to let you interview me about exactly how much time I spent bawling in a parked car somewhere on Elton Hills Drive the day before the wedding. It might take a little convincing, but I think I could arrange for the three of us to get together and record a sweet R&B single about our collective experience. Kate and I could sing about the joys of marrying up (ha..) and Kim could do a bridge about 2011's shortest marriage. Deal!

While it's important to look back and remember the people and events that affected all of us last year, I think it's my duty to put the spotlight on a couple of memorable people/inanimate objects that made a tremendous difference in my life during 2011. Here's a countdown:

5. Kwik Trip
A few days ago, Ernesto and I got back to Northfield after spending the day in the cities, and as we were getting out of the car, one of us left the keys in the trunk, locking us out of our car and our apartment at two in the morning. Minnesota has had a mild winter so far, but it's still super cold at two in the morning. We did the responsible thing and called AAA to send someone down to save us. After AAA told us it would take about half an hour for someone to drive over, we did the important thing and walked to the nearest Kwik Trip, where we bought hot chocolate and a six-pack of Glazers donuts and ate our troubles away. I think I was the one eating my troubles way, and Ernesto just ate a donut to make me feel like less of a gluttonous monster. What a guy. SO this very nice lady at Kwik Trip let us loiter at her gas station for a while and looked away while I stuffed myself with fried dough at 2:30 in the morning, which I think deserves a spot on this list of 2011's Greatest. A lesser person might say that the real hero of this story is AAA, but AAA didn't provide free warmth and cheap food when I needed it most.

4. Chicken Wings
I don't have a neat story to follow up with, just a whole lot of love for the most delicious half-off appetizer option at Applebee's. That sounds a little product placement-y, but I'm being so sincere right now. I didn't start liking wings until about a month ago, and they have made me a changed woman.

This is me being a champ and giving myself a thumbs up at BWW after a successful order of Chipotle BBQ wings. Also, it's hard not to feel like a champ with the awesome manicure my 5-year-old cousin gave me. She got bored after doing my right hand and just left my left-hand nails blank, so I have to constantly hide one hand in a pocket or a mitten to give the illusion of symmetry.

3. Chuck Testa
I watched this video at least five times a day for a week after I first saw it. I could write poetry to you about all the ways I love it. He probably shouldn't be on this list because he's already gotten 10 million Youtube hits, but seriously.

2. Stephen King audiobook
The more I read things by Stephen King, the more confident I feel in concluding that 1) he's probably a jerk, and 2) we would get along super well. He's from the East Coast, he's a Red Sox fan, he constantly makes pop culture references, he wrote a book about how to write a book. I use the very brief window I spent in living Massachusetts to claim that I'm from the East Coast, I used to cheer for the Red Sox when I could blame their losses on a cool legend (and even for a few years after they stopped being the underdogs), etc etc etc, we obviously have tons in common. So for me, listening to It on audiobook felt less like faux-reading, and more like having a very long, one-sided, slightly terrifying conversation with my pal, Stephen. Stevie. Stevie-K.

1. Karaoke
Geddit?! Unsung hero?!!! Hold your applause. The truth is, karaoke would probably be better off unsung by me, I haven't done it any favors this year. BUT BOY DID IT DO ME SOME. I have known four kinds of karaoke throughout 2011, the intricacies of which deserve more attention than I'm willing to give in this already drawn-out post. Let me just say that karaoke has always been here for me during the best of times and the worst of times, and that I believe heaven is just me with a microphone and some lyrics in front of me and a voice that carries like Mariah (this isn't a list of my proudest accomplishments of 2011, but I just want to sneak in here that I know 100% of the Inspectah Deck and Ol' Dirty Bastard verses in "Da Mystery of Chessboxin".. I promise you that it's impressive).

What did you do to celebrate New Years? Because I kicked in the first twoish hours of 2012 singing karaoke at my house with a bunch of hispanic families and it was the happiest two hours of this year so far. Most of them were in Spanish, but I also did Wham's "Last Christmas," which has been sort of a personal fantasy of mine since I was fourteen. In my "Last Christmas" Karaoke Fantasy, I'd envisioned everything to be powder blue and taking place in a mix between a Christmas claymation movie setting and an Old Navy commercial. I'm wearing a very cute cashmere beret while fake snow falls gracefully around me. There's also a sheepish-looking boy who is either Aaron Carter or Gordo from Lizzie McGuire standing under the claymation trees looking at me sadly, thinking something like "Man, I'm such an idiot, why didn't I realize she was someone special?" Maybe this started before I was fourteen. Anyway, the real thing didn't turn out quite like the fantasy I've been envisioning since maybe-age-fourteen (but probably more like age ten), but when I closed my eyes and ignored the dull roar of screaming children running around my house, it was close enough.

Follow up post: Toy Story Costumes

2011-12-21T12:17:00.000-08:00

Earlier I wrote about some of the Toy Story costumes I've seen throughout the ages, so here's a fluff follow-up post. Toy Story 3 was a big deal, so obviously we had to go to the midnight showing in costume. In an effort to make sure that none of the fringe characters felt left out, I dressed up as Pterodactdoll that Sid made with his sister's Sally doll and a dinosaur head.

The resemblance is uncanny.

Above, I give you Rex, Hamm and Slinky Dog.

And here is Barbie, a waaaay less creepy Hamm, and a toy soldier.

Two Things. Also, spoilers.

2011-12-18T20:36:00.000-08:00

1. Hey! So it's winter break, which means that when I'm not sleeping 10 hours a night and listening to Michael Buble's Christmas album, I'm unearthing diamonds in the rough like this guy (or woman.. ah?!!?):

I AM MRS. NESBITT!

NO WORDS! Coming from someone who has dressed up as Toy Story characters/ props several times (once as the pterodactyl doll from Andy's room, once as the bowl of Fruit Loops Woody dunks his head into.. don't worry, I'm looking for the pictures) , I can only say that I have nothing but rock solid admiration and love for this man, who has pulled off the world's greatest Toy Story costume I've ever seen.

2. Also, Grey's Anatomy remains the single most impressively jaw-dropping teledrama I have ever laid eyes on. I know it sucks when people talk nonstop about TV shows.. but I can't help it. This show has broken about ten million glass ceilings on what is okay to show on television and how much human suffering viewers are capable of withstanding before taking their eyes out with an ice cream scoop (which is essentially what I would have to do if I wanted to stop watching this show). For example :

The one where Izzy goes crazy and cuts her fiance's LVAD wire, then spends like week in the bathroom in her prom dress when he dies anyway, then has hallucinations for a year.

The one where someone shoots McDreamy IN THE HEART.

The episode where two people were impaled with the same pole. Actually. And they were facing each other, so one had to watch the other die as he got pulled off.

Mediocre medical teledramas might draw the line at Stephen King-esque hallucinations or double impalements, but Grey's Anatomy spares no expense. NO EXPENSE. Which is how they got to episode 18 of season 7 .. the Musical.

It's not enough that Dr. Callie Torres and her baby (Dr. Sloane's baby!) are about ten minutes away from dying, but everyone has to be singing The Fray's "How to Save A Life" while they are literally failing to save her life. I don't know whose idea this was, but I'm making it my duty to:

Step One - Find out who and tell them we need to talk.
Step Two - Say 'Sit down, it's just a talk."
Step Three - Punch them in the face for letting Ellen Pompeo sing at all. Not even The Fray deserves that sort of suffering.. please.
Step Four - Sign over my soul in gratitude for allowing Dr. Sloane to sing a whole half a verse, which I have engraved into my heart for time and all eternity. I have fallen in love with Mark Sloane about sixty times during this show, and "Let him know that you know best, cause after all you do know best," makes this the 61st time.

List of Thoughts I Am Too Lazy To Make Into A Real Post

2011-12-08T21:12:00.001-08:00

1. My dad and I got to see Andrea Ledesma in Munich! She and Jörg took the two-hour train from Neumarkt and spent Sunday eating white sausage and seeing impressionist paintings and drinking German punch with us. I tell you this so that you will think we are classy and cultured, when really the opposite is true because my dad and I spent Monday night watching Friends in German. Really it was just me watching Friends with a German phrasebook in hand trying to see what the laughtrack was laughing at while my dad was Skyp(e?)ing with my mom. Other notes about the trip..

- ABSURDLY expensive internet ($6 euro per hour. PER HOUR!)

- ABSURDLY amazing Michael Jackson altar randomly sitting there on a street. I mean there is some seriously heartfelt fandom going on in Munich.

The king of Bavaria is no match for the king of pop.

MJ = Just another part of Munich.

Speaking of Michael Jackson, this video does a pretty good job of showing exactly what I look like 90% of the time I'm in the kitchen.

2. The latest Modern Family episode confirmed yet again that Cameron Tucker and I are the exact same person. Exactly. It is mildly terrifying. Even though I'm sure that none of you are in the least bit interested by the freakish similarities between me and TV's most loveable gay dad, I am taking notes to dedicate a whole post (with actual sentence structure) to this. The jist of it will probably be something along the lines of: Paulina Lopez and Cameron Tucker: Hypersensitive, passive aggressive, believe "the more you spend the more you save," invest way too much meaning on random events and cry for hours when others do not remember dozens upon dozens of these tiny but meaningful moments, own too many shirts, have an unhealthy relationship with food, etc. Stay tuned.

3. Why yes, I did see The Muppet Movie in theatres. Twice. I wouldn't want to see it a third time because everything about Walter makes me want to punch him in the face. Everything about Kermit makes me want to punch him in the face, too. It's the same feeling I got from Mickey Mouse, or Tommy from the Rugrats/All Grown Up, or Little Foot from The Land Before Time. There's something about these characters that makes me feel like I'm being conned.

4. I tried making a list of the top five worst Christmas songs, but all I could come up was Christmas with Weezer, the Christmas album my sister keeps playing around the house.

I'm into celebrity Christmas albums as much as the next person, but whoever thought that a rock version of O Come All Ye Faithful and O Holy Night would be a good idea is doing the world a disservice.

5. I was going to write something about Herman Cain and Pokemon, but these guys say it best. Needless to say, I was crossing my fingers that he'd quote the ancient prophecy with the clever plot-twisting "ash" pun.

Postcards from Paulina

2011-12-05T07:10:00.001-08:00

This was originally going to be a post about traveling in Munich with my dad (see the clever title I came up with?!), but like so many other times during this trip, plans have changed.

Obviously, if I wanted to write a post about my really interesting and educational travels, I needed to stand on the shoulders of giants by seeing how Buster writes his travel blog. So I went to Postcards From Buster and was browsing through some of his posts when I came across a little place called.. GUANAJUATO, MEXICO YEAAAAAHBUDDY!

<- Just a completely real, totally not fake picture Buster took. Here's what he had to say about the most beautiful place on earth

The coolest part of this post was reading that Buster met a mime named Sigfrido, which is remarkably similar to Sigifredo (Yes, Ernesto).

In conclusion, PBS knows where it's at. Also in conclusion, Buster and I are basically the same person because we are both traveling with our dads and we use the exact same angle when photographing the Basilica de Nuestra Señora de Guanajuato.

Danke Schoen

2011-12-01T22:07:00.001-08:00

If you are like me, you spent no less than an entire hour verifying that Wayne Newton, the person who sings "Danke Schoen" is actually a MAN. Just listen to that voice, that is not a man's voice. Only it is. This is really similar to the way I was convinced for months/years that Adele and Duffy were black, only to find out I was very wrong. The moral of the story, I guess, is not to judge a singer by the very convincing qualities of their voice. The other point of the story is that I'm pretty sure I've mentioned "Danke Schoen" at least five times in this blog, and I want this post to spend a little bit more than six words talking about what the song is about.

1. I'm thankful for the journals that have been piling up in my room since I was 6 that let me travel back in time and allow me to be simultaneously embarrassed and entertained. Sometimes, I feel good knowing that I've grown a lot since 5th grade. Most of the time, I just see that most things have stayed the same. Ten years ago, for instance, I STILL 1) never knew what date it was, 2) used too many exclamation points, 4) made everything into lists / bad poems, 5) wrote too much about food and TV, and 6) had terrible cursive. It would be a lot of fun to make this post into a list-poem for old times' sake, but I'm already up past my bedtime and I don't think I could come up with something meaningful for V that isn't velcro (... Vinny Guadagnino?). Anyway, I'm thankful for my mom, who gave me my first journal (a bunch of colored index cards) and told me to write.

2. This is sort of a cop-out because it's an extension of number 1, but I'm thankful for National Novel Writing Month. A month ago, I told myself to write a 50,000 word novel in 30 days, and that novel is officially finished as of Nov. 30, 2011. It's a terrible novel that probably needs 30 months of editing, there are plot holes and continuity errors all over the place, random lists of Crayola colors and magical candles, and a couple of characters with no first name because I'd run out of good ones, but according to the creators of National Novel Writing Month, it's a capital N Novel and I am so happy. I couldn't have done this without the teachers who taught me what it meant to write and what it meant to love it, particularly Mrs. Barbara Bonday in 2nd grade, Dr. Rebecca Koelln in 10th grade and Prof. Greg Smith in my third year of college. And (duh) I'm thankful for a very patient and understanding husband who encouraged me the entire time, and was willing to put up with late dinners, leftovers and a lot of Basil's pizza while I typed away.

3. I can't tell you enough how thankful I am for Christmas music, and that it's finally socially accepable to listen to it all I want. ALL I WANT. (yes, Ernesto). Panino and I grew up listening to a "Frosty The Snowman" album that taught us Jolly Old Saint Nicholas and Up On the House and ten other essential songs. I love that there are entire radio stations dedicated to Christmas music, I love that there is a Christmas song for every occasion, I love that Celine Dion recorded O Holy Night, I love watching Love Actually just so I can sing along, I love that there are about 10 bajillion Christmas-related excuses to listen to Christmas music (baking cookies, decorating the tree, cooking a huge meal, washing the dishes after eating a huge meal, ice skating, Christmas Charaoke (or Kristmas Karaoke), wrapping presents, writing Christmas cards, all of it). MOST OF ALL, I am so thankful that two of my favorite singers have re-made one of my favorite songs.

Danke Schoen, Justin and Mariah, for saving Christmas.

I spent this past Thanksgiving in El Paso with Ernesto, his parents and his sister, and it made me feel very lucky to be a part of their family. Naturally, I missed being at home, which reminded me of how lucky I am to have a family that I love enough to miss and that loves me enough to save me some cranberry mold leftovers for when I got back. I am indescribably thankful for Ernesto, who constantly rescues me from the towers that I build for myself.
The past two months have had a pretty fair deal of challenges for me, for Ernesto, for my family, for our friends and for our neighbors, and throughout it all, I've felt so lucky to be surrounded by people with such an impressive capacity to love and to persevere. Wayne Newton sang, "Thank you for all the joy and pain," and to that, I'd add that I'm thankful for all of the people in my life who have made the joy worth remembering and the pain worth enduring.

What time is it?

2011-11-23T21:27:00.001-08:00

WINTER BREAK TIME!

Hello world, some announcements:

1. Tomorrow is the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. So much happy up in hurr.

2. Fall term finals have fried my brain and left nothing but a tiny pile of ash. I know this because after I turned everything in and went to the airport, it took me five minutes to just to say the word "strategize."

3. While writing an essay about the fascinating dynamics between scholarship and educational policy, I spent a good ten minutes researching the word "compromisation" just to come to the sad, sad realization that it isn't real. So, thanks for that, Spice World.

4. HOW does Adele get through her own songs? I have yet to get through "Someone Like You" without crying like a baby. I'm actually not joking, you can ask my brother.

5. During finals, I spent a good 25% of my time daydreaming of all the cool SKEWLS OUT SEEYUH Facebook statuses I could put after I turned everything in, and then I didn't put anything at all. My life is very, very lame.

6. I knew that Thanksgiving in El Paso was going to be a hit when I walked into Lucia's room and saw her Justin Bieber backpack (pics later). At this point, I'm just crossing my fingers that she won't outgrow him before I do.

Before I melt down and cry from the stress of finals/life..

2011-11-14T15:47:00.001-08:00

haha oh wait, I already did that TODAY. On the way back from Econo Food carrying a ton of groceries. And then again in my apartment.The day I get to spend my life sitting at home eating blueberries and reading blogs and watching Justin Bieber's "Somebody to Love" music video will be the happiest day of my life.

Seriously, have you seen that video? I am currently watching it in the library and this kid just walked past my computer screen and gave me a LOOK. This next part is directed at you. All I want to do in life (this is not a joke. NOT a joke.) is spend every breath trying to recreate this video. There are approximately eleven dance sequences that give me major butterflies inside, including but limited to: 1) backpack dance sequence 2) impossible footwork by Usher 3) Beat Freaks dance sequence 4) the HSM-style All In This Together sequence at the end. And (approx) seven other sequences that make SYTYCD look like a hot mess. This video is the bomb.

Thoughts
1. Do you know how I'm officially a boring senior? Because I spent last Friday printing a 500 (500!!!!) page reading. On Head Start. It's actually sort of fascinating (I'm a nerd) but.. I mean it's 500 pages. It's a good thing Carleton's insane tuition covers all printing on campus. I had to tell this hurried-looking freshman she should probably use another printer because I was gonna be there a while. I was that person. Since this monster was too big for the butch heavy duty stapler (which maxes out at 60 pages), the librarian had to find me a binder clip. Call this mundane but I feel pretty freaking accomplished right about now. 500 pages! Also, there is no way I am doing grad school after this experience. You can only brag about this sort of thing once, not once a week for 5 years so...

2. More complaining about school: Is it just me, or is the author of the article on the left trying to kill all of its readers? It's 80 pages long and ALL OF IT is in yellow text with black background. It felt like one of those weird exercises where you stare at a thing and then stare at a blank wall and see Jesus or a happy face, only I kept seeing a purple wall of text about the environmental effects on IQ.

wth

3. Pros and Cons of my African-American lit class. Cons: Waste of approx ten hours per week. Pros: Get to watch the film adaptation of "Waiting to Exhale" starring Whitney Houston ("and IIIIIII"), the guy who plays Turk in Scrubs, and Adele from Grey's Anatomy. It's like the Ghosts of TV Shows Past are reminding me that I still haven't finished seasons 5- whatever.

S/Cr/Nc

2011-11-11T12:19:00.001-08:00

On Carleton Moving its S/Cr/Nc Deadline to Seventh Week
Sooooo for those of you who have anything to do with Carleton College, you are probably aware by now that faculty voted with a 67-21 majority to make several ~~nightmarish~~ unpleasant changes to the beloved S/Cr/Nc policy that has saved us in our darkest hours. Previously, the S/Cr/Nc (pronounced 'scrunch'.. gettit?!) policy allowed students up until the last day of classes to designate a maximum of 6 credits (= one normal class) reviewed on a Pass/Fail basis. Students who anticipated getting a low grade in a class (or students like me who are anal about their GPA and cry every time they get anything other than an A-) could designate one class per term, six classes over all four years at Carleton, as S/Cr/Nc and receive either a Satisfactory (i.e. "Pass") , Credit Received (i.e. "Barely Passed"), or No Credit (i.e. "Faiiiiil!").

The new policy doesn't completely eliminate the S/Cr/Nc option, but is pretty radical nonetheless. For starters, it changes the S/Cr/Nc designation deadline from the last day of classes (end of 10th week) to the Friday of 7th week. It also requires the course professor to sign off whenever a student wants to Scrunch the class, whereas before the professor wasn't contacted about the student's decision until after all grades were submitted, and some higher power (the registrar's office?) changed Scrunched classes' A-F grades to S-NC grades.

I have beef with these changes. (Did I say that right, Jersey Shore Cast? Probably not. )

I think these changes suck. The new policy changes the Scrunch deadline to 7th week regardless of whether you've gotten enough graded work or feedback from a professor in a class to make an informed decision of how you're doing. Two of my classes (English and Political Science) this term didn't give me graded work back until 6th week, in part because they didn't assign anything until 5th week (wtf..). Ernesto's Biochemistry class schedules all of its TWO exams 6th week or later, and hasn't yet heard how he did on the first one. The 7th week Scrunch deadline would be a terrible indicator of whether it would be a good idea to Scrunch a class when we've only gotten one or two assignments graded by then.

I have scrunched one class* during my time at Carleton (science, physics-related, required a graphing calculator and a comfortable knowledge of high school-level math that I have tried very hard to forget.. you understand this). It wasn't an easy decision either time, mainly because whether to Scrunch or not depended on how I did on the second exam before the final, which typically got graded after 7th week. While I know that some students might be 100% sure that they'll Scrunch a class from Day One, most people wait until 8th, 9th, and even 10th week to make a decision based on graded assignments and returned exams.

Assuming that I pass all my classes and don't fail comps and eventually graduate in June, I'll be far, far away from this campus by the time these policy changes get implemented in Fall '12. So what do I care. But it irks** me to think that what used to be a useful policy that gave students the flexibility to choose how a course was to affect their GPA, transcript, etc, is now essentially being rendered moot by an earlier deadline.
* Edit: I thought I'd scrunched two classes, I've actually only scrunched one
** I believe this is the first time I've ever said "irk"

This post was originally going to be about a bunch of other thoughts, but my stomach is pretty much yodeling right now, so I'm gonna go tend to more important needs.

Take-away point from this rant: Carleton has very efficiently been deteriorating since I got here, I just want to leaaaaaaaaaave.

My relationship with most fruit

2011-11-09T20:59:00.000-08:00

Listeria (Part ?)

2011-11-06T23:25:00.000-08:00

Best/Worst Parts of Today:

1. Having to explain to Ernesto why this Calvin and Hobbes strip is funny
2. Hearing Lily's actual American voice on the American Pie trailer after having spent months growing fond of Spanish voice-over Lily in the Spain version of How I Met Your Mother
3. Seeing the American Pie trailer

gotta get back on r/nanowrimo, seeyuh

Dia de los Muertos

2011-11-02T20:53:00.000-07:00

Today is Dia de los Muertos, and I wanted to share something my bff Pablo Neruda wrote. If you live in Salamanca, Gto., you're lucky enough to have his poems scattered all over the street (one of the town's very, very few perks..). Otherwise, you can read it here.

¿Quien muere?

Muere lentamente quien se transforma en esclavo del hábito, repitiendo todos los días los mismos trayectos, quien no cambia de marca. No arriesga vestir un color nuevo y no le habla a quien no conoce. Muere lentamente quien hace de la televisión su gurú.

Muere lentamente quien evita una pasión, quien prefiere el negro sobre blanco y los puntos sobre las "íes" a un remolino de emociones, justamente las que rescatan el brillo de los ojos, sonrisas de los bostezos, corazones a los tropiezos y sentimientos.

Muere lentamente quien no voltea la mesa cuando está infeliz en el trabajo, quien no arriesga lo cierto por lo incierto para ir detrás de un sueño, quien no se permite por lo menos una vez en la vida, huir de los consejos sensatos.

Muere lentamente quien no viaja, quien no lee, quien no oye música, quien no encuentra gracia en si mismo. Muere lentamente quien destruye su amor propio, quien no se deja ayudar. Muere lentamente, quien pasa los días quejándose de su mala suerte de la lluvia incesante. Muere lentamente, quien abandona un proyecto antes de iniciarlo, no preguntando de un asunto que desconoce ono respondiendo cuando le indagan sobre algo que sabe.

Evitemos la muerte en suaves cuotas, recordando siempre que estar vivo exige un esfuerzo mucho mayor que el simple hecho de respirar. Solamente la ardiente paciencia hará que conquistemos

una espléndida felicidad.

He who follows the same routes every day, who never changes pace, who does not risk and change the color of his clothes, who does not speak and does not experience, dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion, who prefers black on white, dotting ones "it’s" rather than a bundle of emotions, the kind that make your eyes glimmer, that turn a yawn into a smile, that make the heart pound in the face of mistakes and feelings, dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy, who is unhappy at work, who does not risk certainty for uncertainty, to thus follow a dream, those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives, die slowly.

He who does not travel, who does not read, who does not listen to music, who does not find grace in himself, she who does not find grace in herself, dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his own self-esteem, who does not allow himself to be helped,
who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck, about the rain that never stops, dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it, who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn't know, he or she who don't reply when they are asked something they do know,
die slowly.

Let's try and avoid death in small doses,
reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing. Only a burning patience will lead
to the attainment of a splendid happiness.

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

2011-10-26T20:15:00.000-07:00

Before I start off this post, allow me the pleasure of telling you that today is the first day in what feels like forever that I don't have a bajillion deadlines hanging over my head. I have nothing (NOTHING) due for a good 48 hours. So I took a much-needed nap and looked at lots of tumblrs without feeling guilty! Wins all around. Okay, now you may keep reading.

If I've learned anything over the past 16 years I've spent living in the US of A, it's that Halloween is more than the year's greatest holiday. It's an investment where you can't lose. If you're a kid or a short person with a mask, you get candy. If you're at that sad, sad point in your life when it's no longer okay to go trick-or-treating, you get to buy copious amounts of candy without being judged. And no matter what age/height/sugar tolerance, you wear a costume.

The most rewarding thing about Halloween costumes isn't that you get to adopt a new, more interesting persona. It's that costumes are a sly way of adding items to your wardrobe/life that would normally be frowned upon. FOR EXAMPLE, the year Haley Bly, Kelsey Norton, Alexa Turner and my brother dressed up as the Spice Girls, I got to buy a pair of red pleather pants. Did they chafe like a mofo? Yes. Did they make me look like a less glamorous Britney Spears? Yes. But they were red. And pleather. And in my closet. Thanks to Halloween, the gift that keeps on giving.

Here's a list of some of the life-enhancing items that you can get for a Halloween costume, and then enjoy afterwards for years to come.

Costume: NASCAR racer
Item: Sweet (PUN INTENDED) M&M jacket
Between October and April in MN, every day you have to wake up and remember that it's cold and cloudy and generally depressing outside. You put on your boring jacket with your head hung low and greet the world with a little less hope than you had the day before. Well, no more! With this M&M-sponsored jacket, you'll bring a little bit of sunshine and a whole lot of happy to a grey, cold world. Or just to yourself.

Costume: Rini from "Sailor Moon"
Item: Luna ball
How fun would it be to play four-square or dodgeball or really anything with this thing? I'll tell you. It would be SO fun.

Costume: Tobias from "Arrested Development"
Item: Diamond Cream
I don't remember why Lindsay bought this stuff in the first place, but the possibilites seem endless. You could rub it on your skin to make it sparkle. You could wash your hair to make it glow or to hide your dandruff. You could spread it on your sandwiches and eat it so that diamonds run through your bloodstream, amping up your self-worth.

Other uninteresting things that I want to tell you:

- I've been really into Mariah Carey's old stuff for the past 8 months. All I want for Christmas is to be able to sing "Always Be My Baby" like she can, but until then, Ernesto and the next-door neighbors will have to put up with my overwhelmingly out of tune renditions.

- Vinny Guadagnino has a blog! It's filled with his poetry, mini-essays on morality and ethics (and how to tell whether a girl is good in bed), and awkward uses of HSM3 images. Also, he uses Blogger (suck it, Wordpress), which makes us soul-siblings.

- A bunch of of the MMUF people and I went to a conference in Chicago, and I won a raffle for the first time in my life. It was a weekend of wonders. Also, the U of Chicago campus in the fall was one of the most beautiful places I'd ever seen. Why is Carleton so ugly? Why why why why?

- I chipped my tooth again, this time while I was eating a BLT (shocker) in the gamer computer lab (double shocker). That makes this the second time in the past month, the fourth time overall. Why why why why? On the plus side, I'm getting better at talking with my lips over my teeth.

WHY

2011-10-21T17:26:00.000-07:00

am I always in the CMC gamer lab on Friday nights? I'm cooler than this, I swear.

Well I guess I'm not.

Bad Day/Bieber

2011-10-18T04:11:00.000-07:00

What's Justin Bieber doing on a bibliography site? I don't know. But today has been hard and randomly hearing "One Time" as I wrote in my 36th (yes) citation made it a little better. I think manna must have tasted like late-night/early-morning Bieber.

That Time of Year Again

2011-10-10T22:06:00.000-07:00

not new reasons. just really good ones.

s.o.s.

2011-10-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

I am currently sitting alone in a motel room in Texas trying very very hard not to think of the terrifying Texas motel scene in No Country For Old Men.

Intro to Sculpture

2011-10-04T14:52:00.000-07:00

"I can't stop thinking of this as a horcrux."

- my art professor during my sculpture critique in class today.

Not what I was going for, but definitely taking the credit anyway. Like an artist.

@aniluap11

2011-09-30T13:42:00.000-07:00

Warning: This post contains inappropriate/obnoxious use of caps lock.

okay so long story short some jerk on twitter stole the internet handle I have been using since I was eleven years old and IT IS NOT OKAY. I've been daydreaming for weeks about all the cool hashtags I was gonna use and how fun it would be to retweet The Hater and now all those dreams have gone up in flames.

Paulina Melgoza Hdz has tweeted exactly ONE time in the last year, she has ZERO followers and is only following SIX other tweeters (five of whom are famous celebrities, and one is the Morelia Film Festival).

It's been like 10 years since I've had to come up with a new username for something. I'm so upset I can't even communicate how upset I am in more than 140 characters. I don't even want a twitter anymore.

I HOPE YOU'RE HAPPY ERNESTO MANUEL LLANO

#fffuuu #thatsnotyourname #actuallyistillwantatwitter

Fate?

2011-09-28T14:07:00.000-07:00

1999 - My brother chips my front tooth in a Hide-and-Seek-related rage attack

2010 - I re-chip the same tooth with a cereal bowl

2011 - I re-re-chip the same tooth (and swallow the missing piece) eating a fried tortilla