Do you feel that?

I haven't eaten today.

Why? You ask.

Well. Because last night I decided it would be good for me, socially, to go to a party with friends and drink.

I'm not about to tell you that drinking is bad, because it's not, I mean, it's bad for your liver but you won't like be struck by lightning for doing it, (What's a sin is saying "like" and "like drinking with like my new friends so I can be like cool. Like duh.") what I'm about to tell you is that drinking for me is bad.

I get stomach aches and feel like I'm going to throw up the next day. I PRAY for the days when I can wake up and ONLY have a headache and sensitivity to light.

Moving on...

On one hand it's a good thing I get them, it encourages me not to drink as much as my new college friends, but on the other hand it leads to this not eating situation.

I'm not going to blame this whole thing on booze. What I will blame it on is the two things that took up most my day.

Thing one:

I got dressed and walked around CSUN with this kid a

nd a girl with a camera for about an hour and a half. Tried to reach oranges I could never reach. And tried to get squirrels to like me even though I had no food. Failure. Then we went to his friend's apartment where I got to pet a bunny and look at art and then I said a few things and... He killed me.

Thing two:

I left the apartment and went to my apartment to grab a few things, wipe the blood off of myself and change. Then I went to one apartment to meet up with everyone, then to another apartment where we wrapped Axl up like a mummy a

nd turned off the lights. When the lights were turned off I read lines to my partner in crime Ryan and also made noises with my feet while holding a light under my optimus prime t-shirt and turning the lights on and off. After that I went back up to the first apartment, helped Ryan figure some computer stuff out and then I came down here to write this.

Now you're probably wondering:

"Wait.... He killed you? Did you say wipe blood off of your body? Optimus prime... What?"

Well, friends, this is my future career in the works.

This, is why I haven't eaten today and why I probably will spend many days for the rest of my career not eating for days at a time. This will probably not be the first time I will sit in front of my computer late on a saturday night feeling like smegal from Lord of the Rings (The cup of noodles in my purse is definitly begining to look like an all powerful ring).

To be more up front: Thing one and thing two were two different shoots I did today.

Thing one was a movie written and directed by this sophomore I know through a few friends. His movie is more real. He asked me to be the girl in it. And in the movie he falls in love with me and kills me.

Thing two was the movie that I wrote and am currently co-directing with my friend Ryan. He, so far has been doing the acting direction and camera while I have been doing staging direction, line reading, noise making, and problem solving. Basically my job is to make his job easier. Other wise he would explode... I mean, who wouldn't in his situation?

Oh, and our script is a comedy about a girl who thinks her boyfriend was killed but really she's dumb and her boyfriend ran off with another girl.

Oh! And I wore a slutty outfit for the first half of it.

(That's where I made the joke to Ryan, as co-director: Next time we work on anything together I should just wear slutty outfits to every shoot.)

Both of these are being made for the Halloween Competition at my school.

And let me tell you... It's stressful but it's worth it.

Sitting in front of my laptop today, I realized I'm not made I've only eaten candy and three saltines today... I'm happy that I already have this feeling four weeks into film school. THIS feeling is going to stick with me for the rest of my career, THIS starvation, THIS exaustion, and THIS excitement with every completed shot.

Yes. THIS is my life as an aspiring screenwriter/director. And though some of you may be reading this thinking: I'm so glad I am studying to be this or that... AS LONG AS IT'S NOT WHAT SHE'S DOING!

... I think I've fallen in love.

I mean, the production for my film isn't even over and I can't wait to work on another independent piece.

Can't wait to write another script and have the director go (like Ryan did) "I love it!"

It's all very exciting.

So, friends, I just wanted to talk about that today.

Most of you readers are in college and I was wondering if you have gotten this feeling yet. If you have walked out of class and been like. THIS. THIS is what it will feel like to be....

Because sitting here in the zone... Starving and trying to keep my eyes open... I have found that feeling and excitement. I have gotten hooked.

Wether that's a good or a bad thing I don't know....

I'm sure that I will have many nights like this, many nights where I want to kill the actors, many nights where my ass and boobs hanging out of my clothes is the least of my worries, many nights where I end up trying to type this blog with shaking hands and a paraniod mind (I pretty sure my eyes look EXACTLY like those of a ferral hog).

But I'm also sure that I will have many night where I jump in the air after a cut because of it's perfections, many nights where I will leave with that feeling of acomplishment, many nights where I finish a shoot and have this urge to call my mother and tell her about everything, and I'm positivie I will have many nights where a twix bar will taste just like heaven and a cup of noodles is better than mall-asian food quality.

So, friends, tell me when you have this feeling. Call me up, even if you haven't eaten, haven't slept, haven't talked to a single person all day, or talked to too many all day.

Call me when you finished a huge task and now you feel like just going home.

Cause at some point you will realize... THIS is what she was talking about.

Because I'm right. Wanting to be a doctor is not taking anatomy classes and studying for classes. Wanting to be a doctor is when you've binged on coffee all night trying to figure out what is wrong with your hypothetical patient and then, just as you alarm for class goes off the next morning you put a finger in the air and yell out the diagnosis.

You know?

I mean. For me. Wanting to be a film maker was not sitting in classes like editing and principles of production and watching the special features on movies. Wanting to be a film maker was not eating all day because I had to help on two different shoots and somewhere in between running from place to place I ended up holding a flashlight under my shirt in a dark room banging my foot against the wall and quickly turning on the lights I realized even though I had slept till noon today... I was exausted but couldn't leave because I had made promises and have a deadline.

It was at that moment that I thought:

"This is film. This is what I want to do. This is what it will feel like to do this."

Well... I hope that made sense.

I'm going to go make my cup of noodles (Which I am pretty sure is glowing now...) and drink some lemonade while I watch Pleasantville. Because... There is nothing else I can do on the film tonight.

The actors have all gone out partying and the director is just as stressed as me.

-Berlyn

Happy Birthday! Here's... uhm... a rock.

Gift giving is a very serious thing in my eyes. What you get somebody can send a message as to how you feel about them, and I tend to silently (and sometimes not so silently) freak out about what to get people. I actually remember the first piece of advice I ever received about picking out a present for somebody. I was with my mommy when I was little, trying to pick out something for my then-best-friend Kelsey, when my mom said something along the lines of “ You should pick out something YOU would want and then figure out if she would like it too.” That’s generally what I try to keep in mind when I shop for most people, but I tend to think about a LOT while deciding on the “perfect” gift.

I also think about what kind of message certain gifts can send to the other person. One scene of Gilmore Girls stays in my mind. Rory and Lane were discussing the significance of gifts and Lane said, “Remember two years ago, I got my mom that perfume? Okay, to me that said, ‘Hey Mom, you work hard, you deserve something fancy.’ Now to my mother, it said, ‘Hey Mom, here's some smelly sex juice, the kind I use to lure boys with.’”

One of my worst jobs giving a present was a few years ago. I got my friend Andee some of my favorite smelling perfumes (Lucky… mmm… get Lucky with Lucky? I dunno, but it still smells delicious) and a huge bag of yummy Lifesavers. In my mind, I was saying “Here’s a birthday present from me. I’m so Lucky to have you as my Lifesaver.” But she opened it and said “Are you trying to tell me something? Perfume and breath mints? Do I smell bad?” FACEPALM. Didn’t even think of that.

But I got my brother some fifty dollar Abercrombie Fierce cologne and he really liked it. He didn't think I was telling him that he stunk. Maybe that's just because he's a boy.

Presents can mean a lot to boys as well, though. My ex-boyfriend and currently really good friend really appreciated two of the gifts I got him, at least. One was a Build-a-Bear named Meason. Meason was (and I think still is) treated like almost like a living being. I've never been so happy about giving someone a gift as I was after I gave Meason to James. I also made a fleece blanket for James one Christmas and he still uses it. I love giving gifts that people use constantly or over and over again.

I also freak out that I'm going to do a bad job or get them something they hate. That's why it can take me hours and hours to pick out a gift sometimes. Like, what do you buy for an ex-boyfriend? A new friend you don't know very well? The friend who has enough money to buy anything they want or need? Someone you don't even really like but were invited to their party? Someone you haven't seen for a long time? I DON'T KNOW!! I dread the day where I have in-laws to give presents to. Oh my goodness.

I still haven't even gotten Berlyn a birthday present, and her birthday was in September. I've known something I've wanted to get her for months now, but I'm nervous that she'll already have it or not think it's as great as I do, so I've held back. Whyyy? And Bri and I didn't get each other birthday friends, and I have no idea why. We're really good friends so it's kind of strange.

Jaden gave me a gorgeous sterling silver necklace with opal in it in middle school. I wore that necklace almost every single day until it broke in junior year. I've never got more compliments on anything I own as I did with that necklace. It's one of my favorite presents I've gotten. I remember Jaden told me she spent all her allowance money on it, and that meant so much to me and made me like it even more because it was a sign of friendship (or something cheesy like that. haha.)

Valentine's Day presents tend to be the least creative, I think. Here's a teddy bear. Or some flowers that will die next week. Or some really crappy tasting chocolate. Yayyy...? I actually got a good Valentine's Day present this past year, though. My boyfriend of the time made me a necklace in his Jewelry class and it was really pretty. I still wear it sometimes because he did such a good job and it reminds me of how happy I was that day and how happy I can be again some day.

With all that I'm learning at college, though, there is a nonexistent class I would like to take. How To Give The Perfect Gift 103. Yup. I would be first to sign up.

Anyone want to be my professor? Or just give some advice on tricky gift situations? Or share some good or bad gifts you've given and received? Go right ahead!

Love you all (my love is my gift to you... embrace it.),

Kimber

I'd never scratch you off my minivan..... (OR Alternate title:) TITLE 1

Lets look at the little things today.

(I know. That is definatly what she said... I was there... I wit

nessed it.)

When I first moved here, Axl and I were always driving back and forth to my Aunt's house. In one of these trips (normally consisting of twenty three minutes of Katy Perry singing Teenage Dream and skin-melting heat) Axl and I passed a minivan with the mini family stickers. Like this:

These stickers are supposed to depict a happy family (and apparently pets) being happy and annoyingly perfect right? After they eat breakfast every sunday they go to church for three hours, come home play board games, watch a G rated movies (th

e last unicorn?), shit rainbows, and put the kids to bed at seven and then after the kids are fast asleep Pete and Tina up there would head to their seperate beds.

I only reccomend this as a perfect family because that's what fifties television made everyone think....

It's annoying in one sense because they're attempting to rub perfectness in your face, but on the other hand is it a bad thing to show off your happiness (no). I'm not going to hate the things because half the time I don't even notice them.

Anyways. The family on the minivan had no pets. Ther

e was a Mom, Dad, an older boy, a younger boy, and.......... The youngest member of the family was scratched. It looked like a girl. Of course, at this discovery I immediatly texted Kim and told her and pointed it out to Axl.

I think they both assumed the worst.

That poor youngest child died and the parents, in a vain attempt to forget, tried to scratch her off of their minivan.

I thought it was funny.

... Mostly because it was ironic.

The stickers are supposed to show off your abnormally happy family..... And the fact that one member was scratched off threw that all out the window. There was no way that this is a happy family.

They're all probably as lonley as this lady:

Anyways. There are a million things that the daughter of that family could have done to piss her family off. Then agian, she could be the perfect child and one of the brothers might of tried to scratch her off.

Luckily the politics of minivan stickers are not the same as real-life politics.

Basically, one of the brothers could scratch their sister off the car but he would think about her every day if she simply vanished from his life. Same thing for the parents. They could kick her out and call her a whore (scratch her off the minivan) but they would never stop loving her. No matter what you know.

So last week I got to thinking.

Theoretically, what if I bought a minivan and all the minivan stickers in the world. Who would I put on my minivan?

Who would I eventually scratch off.

Now that you've pictured that....

Imagine you had this minivan and these stickers your entire fugging life (read An Abundance of Katherines by John Green.... It will make sense).... How many people would be on your minivan? How many pets? How many people would be scratched off?

Old boyfriends.... Ex-Best-Friends (I went hyphen crazy, I appologize)....

Would you leave dead family members on the car?

I would.

They're still there, you know, inside.

Whereas Ex-Boyfriends (most of the time) can go suck it.

So your probably thinking:

Berlyn, who would be on your minivan?

Well, intuitive reader, I will tell you.

My mother, my brother, my half brother, my sisters, my half sister, my grandparents (of which I have three), my cousins (of which I have four), my niece, my nephew, my aunts (of which I have three), my pets (of which I have four... But I would include the dead ones.... So more than that...), Axl, Kim (my twin) and other friends (of which I have many).

Who would be scratched off my minivan?

Boys I liked that never gave me the light of day (fuck you), The girl in fourth grade that hated Pokemon ( I forgot your name for a reason), Audrey from sixth grade (I was there for you and you trash talked me), Mrs. Kushner from first grade (you're a bitch), My dad (Maybe... I don't know. I hope one day I can forgive you), Devon (We were friends for a long time but, I guess I just out grew you), and of course there are others.

But that's just me.

I'm not sorry for scratching people off of my minivan. If we ever met up and consoled our differences, I could stick a new one of them on my car... Besides, I'm sure I've been scratched off plenty of minivans.

Is that a bad thing? Only sometimes... Sometimes we just grow up, move on.

So, today, if you have a moment. Think about your minivan.

Think about the people you have on your minivan, who you've scratched off.... Who you wish was on your minivan (but isn't).

For those of you in college, hopefully you are adding new stickers every day... Just like me.

Now I'm moving onto my next subject.

The Reseda High School Sign.

Every day on my way to school we drive past Reseda High School and their sign, which, for the past three weeks, has not had anything written on the computerized sign.

So the sign reads:

Interslide 1.

Interslide 2.

Interslide 3.

Interslide 4.

Interslide 5.

Snow Setting.

Random Setting.

Etc.

It just makes you wonder how every employee at the school doesn't see that sign and think "Hey... We paid over a thousand bucks for that sign... Shouldn't it say something?"

Something like:

BIG GAME!

Friday at 7pm!

The gym!

Be there or be square!

Go HAWKS!

Or:

Congrats Math Leats

Third consequtive year of winning the title!

Give em a pat on the back!

YESSSSSSS

Anything but:

Interslide 1

Interslide 2

Interslide 3

You know?

I don't know. Maybe the Reseda sign is trying to make a point about America. For Example:

Congrats America for fighting in the Iraq war for a full FIVE YEARS!

A grand total of MILLIONS DEAD!

Oh wait!

There's a new Player in the game!

(Snow Setting) OBAMA!

But nothing's changed sooooooo!

Lets shoot for five more years!

YESSSSS!

Maybe Reseda is trying to say something about me:

Berlyn just started school!

But she hates 50% of her teachers!

And she's not doing shit about it!

Because why?

Because she HAS NO IDEA WHY?!

Maybe the sign is trying to say something about you... Who knows.

That sign is very intellectual for not having a brain.

But the sign would still be wrong. Because where ever there is bad, there is a little bit of good.

The sign can point out America's flaws, but it's forgetting that we are no longer in a massive financial crisis. Hell, the sign can point out my flaws, but it's forgetting that I have new friends that I am currently sticking on my minivan.

Regadless of my point or the sign's point, the sign should have something on it.

Even if it's:

Hello!

Hi!

Hola!

Aloha!

Bonjour!

Da Duit!

(Snow Setting) Ni Hao!

(Random Setting) Konnichiwa!

It would make me smile everyday.

Then the sign would be doing SOMETHING.

Anyways.

I know this post is a little scitzophrenic.

Bear with me.

-Berlyn

P.S. Write about your minivan in a comment :)

P.P.S. OR write about your sign....

P.P.P.S. Or write whatevere you want to....

Hi, I'm Kim, and I'm... awkward.

Snobby. Shy. Skater. Serial murderer.

Reserved. Religious. Rebellious.

Poser. Prep.

Awkward.

No, I'm not talking about labels or stereotypes. I'm speaking of first impressions.

College is full of them, and BOY do I need to work on mine. I'm so ridiculously awkward around new people that I get flustered and inevitably end up saying something completely weird, irrelevant, or accidentally rude. Sometimes all you get is a first impression, too. Your first and last impression on someone can be the same encounter (especially if your first impression sucked so they run and hide every time they see you coming...) so it can be rather important to get it right.

We had Open Door Night in Alpha, the dorm I live in, so there were a lot of meet&greets. There was a lot of "I like your room," "What's your name," "Where are you from?" small talk. Naturally, that's about as far as I can get before I make things uncomfortable. Upon walking into a guys' room (I can't even remember their names... maybe I've tried to block this out of my memory) I introduced myself and then said "Pretty plain room."

Pretty plain room? Maybe they had spent hours setting it up! Maybe they want to be interior decorators and I just crushed their dreams. Why did I HAVE to comment? Then I laughed uncomfortably and added "I mean, it's like... plain. I mean, it's nice! Just, you know, kinda bare. Like, there's not much stuff in here. It's simple. Not that you're simple or anything, it's just... hahahahhhahahaha bye!"

Oh. My. Gosh.

I felt like their judging stares could have broken my skull in twelve pieces. And I'll probably never speak to them again. I'll just be that really, really awkward girl who WOULDN'T SHUT UP. Maybe they already forgot, but that was what I left with them. Maybe if it had gone better, I would end up married to them years and years down the line (one of them, not both of them. I'm no polygamist. Or harlot.) but now I will NEVER KNOW.

Okay, so that last part was a little melodramatic, but still, I hope you see my point. First impressions can matter. Job interviews, for example. I've never gone through that, but I'm already kind of dreading the experience. My twin brother even commented once on how I change my voice when I talk to certain people, especially if they're professionals. I make myself sound younger, apparently. I have no idea why. I don't even notice it, but it needs to stop.

Anyway, back to things that I do notice.

I don't think Tasha and I would have become friends if it weren't for our third grade teacher, Mrs. Schroll. Tasha was a new student to Lake Tapps Elementary on the first day, and I was assigned to show her around. Neither of us were pleased. I looked over at Tasha and spotted her fake tie-dye nametag that she had colored on and she glanced at my plaid dress with fake leather straps, and... first impression? WEIRDO. I know that's also judging, but sometimes they go hand-in-hand with first impressions. Anyway, we ended up being friends. Best friends, actually. In fact, she is my longest lasting friend. But that may not have been the case if our teacher hadn't made us put our impressions aside and just genuinely talked.

Like I mentioned earlier, first impressions are a big part of college. There's this girl a couple doors down from me in my hall who I kept smiling at in the halls, and every time she looked at me, I thought she was glaring at me. I could not for the life of me figure it out. But now that I've been actually getting to know her, I realize that Michelle is one of the absolute friendliest people I've ever met and she's already becoming a good friend. Once again, though, we ARE in the same hall so there is time allowed for us to actually get to know each other. If we had just been passing each other by on the street, I would have just thought she had been glaring at me. Also, for all I know, maybe my smiles look like grimaces. I have no idea!

There's also this guy on my floor who I first thought was just a little too over-charismatic and loud. But the second time I talked to him, he was pretty chill. Maybe he had been nervous the first time and was trying to over-compensate. I know I do that a lot. Now I actually do want to have another conversation with him, because the second impression was much better than the first.

I guess I'm more of a second impression kind of girl. I think I leave a better second (or third, maybe seventh) impression on people than the first. So I'm going to definitely make sure I give other people the chance to leave a second impression on me as well. Especially here, where a lot of people don't seem exciting at first because it's just small talk for the most part. So try to give people a second chance to leave a better impression if you see them again (as long as they didn't completely freak you out initially). Maybe you'll be surprised at how different (and maybe better) they seem the next time.

Have any good stories about first impressions? Comment them :)

-Kim

Kimberlyn's first video blog.... Love it? Love us? Love me......

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PU30jXI4wGM

Yep. Kimberlyn's first Vlog :)

I hope you all enjoyed watching me talk to my computer. I would have shown you EVERYTHING in my apartment but it was hard with a laptop instead of a camera. You know? And the length of the video was super long so I had to cut it down and that was hard cause I am no where near pro at this.

Love you all and I hope you all have a safe and nice transition into your new homes (if you are moving).

-Berlyn

Do what I say. Now. Everything I say... Nowww!

He's hungry. I think I'll make him serve cereal. Come on, Dude, clean up your bowl. Come on. There you go. Put away the leftovers. Now go pee, your bladder is getting pretty low. Mmm... now go study mechanics. HEY! I said... GO STUDY MECHANICS! I don't care if you're not having fun, you need to be prepared in case the dishwasher breaks again!! Ugh, fine, watch TV for ten minutes, then study mechanics. Stupid.

Mmm... the power you have over a sim's character... You create somebody (or try to recreate somebody you know) and you get to tell them what to do!! And they usually do it! Sweeeeeeetness.

Imagine if real life was like your giant Sims game. Ctrl + Shift + C motherlode. You're rich! Control Sims' (people's) actions, and try again if you don't like the reaction...

In middle school, my friends and I would create a Sim family every time we had a new big crush on someone. If I liked Joe, I'd make a Sim family where we were married. Or, more often, I'd put me and my "love" together in a house as roomies and work super hard to make them fall for each other. And if there was a negative reaction to a flirt or kiss, then I would quit without saving. It was like it never happened.

Oh, how I wish real life could be like that sometimes. Where if something went wrong with a friendship or relationship of some sort, I could just quit without saving and all would be forgotten once I started again. I'd have another chance. Or two. Or five.

Haha, one thing with the Sims that I feel guilty about loving is the House of Terror. In ninth grade, Jaden and I decided to create a sim household of the people we disliked the most. I had two people in there and Jaden had three or four. We made them ugly and built a house with no doors and a tree in the middle. No bathroom, either. They peed themselves on the floor and slept in their own piss and were starving. It was sick. I remember feeling bad, and when Jaden left the room to get both of us a Pepsi, I did Ctrl + Shift + C "move_objects on" and moved one of the people I made to outside of the house and put a toilet, shower and fridge out there for them. When Jaden came back, she reminded me that those weren't real people and nobody was actually getting hurt - It was just a way to vent.

So we put a barbecue next to the tree, told one of them to grill hotdogs, and watched as the "house" burnt down. Remember, there were no doors. Tombstones appeared where the people had been.

See, if life was a giant Sims game, we would never have done that. But someone would.

Controlling people with a few clicks would not be a good idea. The sad thing is that some people CAN be as easily controlled as a Sims character set as low free will. But instead of an outside player telling them what to do, it's their boyfriend or girlfriend. Or parent. Or "friend." Or... something. They're told to do something, so they do it. They're told NOT to do something, so they don't. Even if it's ridiculous and should be THEIR decision.

He tells her not to wear that shirt. He doesn't want other guys looking at you. So you don't, to avoid a fight and to make him happy.

She tells you not to talk to other girls. Talking leads to flirting, which leads to cheating, she says. So you don't, because you're scared of her leaving you.

Bad situations to get caught in... There's no quitting without saving with those. But there still IS the option to quit. It's just harder than pressing a button.

Maybe all the easy options are why I enjoy the Sims so much. I like the simplicity of it all, of having an easy life. Of being able to take things back and how easy it is to make people make good decisions. I like that all my sim on Sims 3 has to do to be in a good mood is freak out or double check the stove.

-Kim

(sorry this ends kind of abruptly... ish... I like it, okay?! DEAL. NOW.)

Thank you for putting up with me....

Yesterday was quite possibly one of the worst days of my life.

It was so filled with stress. Upset. And pure, uncensored anger.

You can all try to guess what happened to make me feel this way. But I'm not going to explain to you what happened to cause the complete failure of this day (yes, I am exaggerating.) (exaggerating? exagerating? exagirating? ... I promised myself I wouldn't swear in this blog post so... Ah Firetruck it.....), I'm going to tell you what happened after everything went wrong.

I was laying on my temprepedic mattress cover, which was laying on the floor of the apartment surrounded by the supplies to make a bed frame, crying when my mother called.

Of course, seeing her name on the phone only pushed me into a greater fit of tears.

It was like she knew....

Before I had collapsed on the floor I had been crying on the floor as I desperatly tried to scrape paint off my laptop bag. And after that I tried pushed aside all my feeling

s and angrily started painting the wall. Arms throbbing, eyes swollen, and mind swirling... Axl took over painting and told me to lay down.

This is when she called.

I hadn't sent her a text. Or posted anything on facebook. She was probably calling because of something craigslist related.... It doesn't matter though. Because in the moment.... It felt like her Berlyn-senses were tingling and she had quickly reached over and picked up her phone (which normally (please get this reference) only rings when the mayor is in dyer need of her help) and called me.

I broke down.

But the thing I wanted to share with everyone was how my mom handled the situation.

Like any normal human being, at the sound of my sobbing, the first question she asked was:

"what's wrong?"

I don't know about all of you, but this question always makes me cry even more. So I started crying even more and whimpered: "Various things."

Now, this is where my mom is seperated from every other human being in the world. Unlike all of my friends (whom I love and DO help when I have these mental break downs) and any other human being (who do their best to help when they are the only one's who can help, even if they are a stranger) my mother allowed me to feel like it was okay to have a temper tantrum/ toddler break down.

She repeated my statement, "various things are wrong?"

"Yes."

"What happened."

I explained. I believe I started off with the word: "EVERYTHING"

... Which was a commonly used word when I had a bad day at school in the fourth grade.

I was crying a lot. I started off crying about the paint situation. She couldn't understand me so she had me had the phone to Axl who told her the situation on the paint and the wall and how much of the wall was left.

Then he handed the phone to me. I broke down again.

I took in a deep breath and then whispered, "Hello."

Really melodramatic.

I know.

To this, my mother laughed and said: "I love you."

We went on to talk about the paint that had not ended up on the wall. I mentioned my laptop bag through boughts of tears. To this she said:

"Paint got on your lap top bag?"

"Yes."

"The one with the cute kitties on it?"

"Yes."

"Oh no. That sucks."

"Nothing got on the kitties though."

"Well that's good... There are sites on the internet that give suggestions on how to get paint out. Why don't we try some of those?"

So she looked up all of these different suggestions and told me what to do, she even looked up a store that was in walking distance of the apartment so that I could fix everything.

She asked me if I wanted to come home.

And I said.

"No. I can't solve any of my problems there. They're all here."

And though I know she would like me to be home with her, I knew she was happy to hear me say that. That I didn't want to run from my problems. From that one bad day.

She didn't need to say anything for me to know she was proud of me.

After that, the day got significantly better. It wouldn't have ended as nicely as it did without my mom.

I guess what I am trying to get at is that without my mom, I would not be able to pick myself up whenever I fell down.

Sure, I cried and threw a fit and gave up and needed help. But afterward the help, I got up and made everything better.

My mom is the most significant factor in my life. But the rest of my family plays similar roles in making me a stronger person.

Think about it.

Without your mother, or father, or sisters, or brothers, would you be who you are today?

Probably not.

If you were raised by wolves you would be able to hunt prey, survive winter, and run on all fours. But if you were brought into civilization you would not be able to function socially because you were never taught how to get over boys (or girls), to do homework you didn't understand, to fix the holes in your favorite clothing. You would break down, and instead of getting back up... You would keep falling.

Read Brave New World.... It'll make sense.

I have friends who can't say "No" to peer pressure. I don't know why they cannot. Do they not look at their little siblings and think : one day they will want to be just like me... Do I want them to fall to the same addictions most teenagers do because I failed to simply say "no".

I have two little sisters.

I have done everything in my power to set a good example for them.

They are nine and seven.

They both love everything about me.

They like my music, they like my clothes, they like my hair, they like my youtube channels, and they like the television and I watch.

They like me. They would love to be anything similar to me one day.

And that is what I worked so hard to do.

I'm a good kid (in my opinion) and I hope they grow up to be good kids too.

So without my sisters I would not have much of a reason to be "good" or have a drive.

Even my brother leaves an impact on who I am.

When I was younger I did everything I could to protect him.

What do I mean?

I took on the neighborhood bully several times because he was a jerk to my brother.

I was much smaller than the neighborhood bully.

Now I speak my mind. No matter what.

Like on this blog.

Or in general.

I stand up for myself and the people I love. Because I used to do that for him all the time.

All my other family members. My cousins. Grandparents. Aunts. And Uncles. Have left marks too.

Making me who I am today.

Sure, friends help too.

But I wanted to bring attention to the people who put up with me twenty-four-seven.

The people who allow me to throw a tantrum. The people who colsole me the same way I console people (because I learned it from them).

My family is one of the most important parts of me.

And I love them.

So cry, throw a tantrum and let your mother, father, sisters, or brothers console you. You don't have to be strong anymore, let it go just once. Drink in the absolute, undying love for as long as you can. Because you only have so much time.

Thanks guys....

To my sisters and brother: I love you all more than you will ever really understand.

To my mom: Thank you for being my best friend and a great mother.

Oh god, I'm almost in tears.

-Berlyn

P.S. Kim, I think that we should have the ability once a year to take a personal day. Instead of writing the blog one saturday we should do something family related.

Just one.

So it means more than it usually would.

For example:

The blog will not be posted this week because Berlyn has decided to have a heartfelt conversation on the phone with her mother.

Or

The blog will not be posted this week because Kim is hanging out with Ryan.

You know?

Because maybe then we can encourage others to take the the time they would normally spend on our site to call up their mum or dad.

I think it's a good idea.....

P.P.S. I was thinking about doing a video for the blog my next saturday, what do you all think?

P.P.P.S. Sorry it's long again.