Cakes....

I'm going to start this blog off with a short story from my past:

I don't know if many of you know this but in high school I didn't have many boyfriends. In my entire life I have had two. I really wasn't interested in the first... I was young and just wanted to say I had a boyfriend.... The second, I moved in with and am still dating.

However. In between these two boyfriends my friends and I would make "singlism" cakes.

Yes.

It was a way to make us feel better about being single.

Yes.

It was a way to feel loved when we felt we weren't.

And yes.

It worked 99.9% of the time.

Because while we baked these cakes we were able to re-discover the pure love we had for eachother. The pure admiration, adoration, and fondness we had for eachother. We would sit and eat that cake while we watched movies and felt sorry for ourselves and sometimes cried.... But I don't have a single sad memory of these times. The times we made the cakes. I only remember laughter.

We don't make those cakes anymore because well. They were almost always baked at my house and I now have a boyfriend. So... The cakes have become a little obsolete. However, we still manage to bake everyonce in a while. Most of the time we make brownies and cakes for parties cause it's easier then buying a present (who doesn't like cake? AND you always have a funny story to tell with it. ALWAYS)....

SO... Back to the present.

Today is a party for a good friend of mine. She is turning eighteen years old and I'm super excited because (being as I now live in California) I don't get to go to many of my friends birthday parties.

So. Before the party I had planned to take my wife (.... Anna.... She is this adorable little girl who was a freshman when I was a senior.... I asked her to marry me and now we are "married"... She's in my phone as Wifey... This is legit stuff here) on a Seattle outing because I promised her I would. It's a tradition.

Hold on...

Sorry I had to rifle through my party bag from an eight-year-old's birthday party... For gum. I was still chewing on the piece from my Rain-Blow Pop (which, btw, is not as good as BLOW POPS... Just sayin) silly me...

Anyways. We made this plan to pick up my friend Kate from Seattle Pacific Lutheran University (Spu) and go to the erotic bakery (Only in Seattle) to buy an erotic cake for our friends party.

You see... We were joking about in front of the birthday girl and she got really excited so we decided to get her the cake. She told her mom. Her mom got all pumped and said she wasn't going to get cake because we were bringing a cake but... The cake we got was tiny (I mean one of the biggest cakes they had there.. But still small...)... So we decided to make another cake at a later date.

So..... Let me start at the Erotic bakery...

After screaming and yelling for about fifteen straight minutes as I drove around looking for this place (which we had found by accident the first time) and Kate yelled at the GPS (which wouldn't work) and Anna cried in the back (Just a normal car ride with Berlyn)........ We finally found the bakery. We parked and walked towards it. All wondering if we would get carded and Baby Anna would have to wait outside...

But they really could have cared less... They would let ten-year-old boys buy boob and vagina cakes.... But I would too... I would also give them a full BAG OF CONDOMS! * So... No judgement.

Anyways. We stood looking at the rotating cakes debating on how much we wanted to spend on this cake. We ended up getting the biggest cake with the penis of our choosing (I think we were suppose to get a black one... But we got a tan one instead.....) and told the man excitedly to retrieve it.

He responded:

Those are big enough to write on... I could write something like "happy birthday, now blow".

He listed a few more but we decided we liked:

"You can have your cake and eat him too"

So that is written on the cake.

As we payed.... The man returned and asked:

"Now the real question is.... Would you like Cum?"

You can guess how we responded.

So. We had cake one. And it now sits comfortably in one of the many fridges at my house (I sound like a hillbilly...). I wrapped it up all nice and stuff.

Anyways.

Last night I had Kate and my other friend Katie over. Now bear in mind. We HAD to make this cake. The other one was not big enough to feed a party of 30 people.

Kate will deny this but... I WANTED TO MAKE THE RECTANGLE CAKE PER USUAL.... She wanted hearts.

So.

I started cooking. Katie made the frosting (by hand, pretty cool). Kate sat with my injured dog.

By the end of the night. This cake looked terrible. It was three layers tall of broken hearts and slowling falling apart. AND.... We didn't have enough frosting....

So.... As we started pouring the frosting on the cake we began panicking. It was falling apart even more.

I was hyperventalating. Katie had given up entirly. And Kate was trying to save the cake.

This cake looked god-awful by the time we put it in the fridge. God awful. But we decided to give it to them anyways... I mean... It tastes good.

So.

Today... I got up early. Went to my sister's horseback riding (she's so talented :) I love her so) and froze to death while wanting to punch my mom in the face for being on the phone with my aunt THE WHOLE LESSON... Urg pet peeve.

Then I went to a birthday party at a gymnastics place... My littler sister was invited but the horse-back-riding one joined in on the fun too. This was a group of eight-year-olds and younger.

I felt incredibly out of place and cold...

But... Then I was offered pizza. And met a ten year old who could make balloon animals! (Where was he when I was ten? Seriously).

I was offered a cupcake but I resisted as I sucked on my blow-pop and rocked in my chair.

Yes.

Children stared at me.

Yes.

I was distracting.

And yes.

I did get a goody bag :)

Then we came home and I showed my mom the cake I made last night.

I wrote on it in icing.

"Cake? Happy B-Day. Love U"

True poetry. I am a writer you know...

OH! And I poured sprinkles on it.

It still looks like shit. But... Hey. It will definitly shock, horrify, and send people into fits of laughter.

But isn't that the goal of most of my work? Lets review.

Halloween film: BOOBS, Boobs, and naked blonde girls.

Visual Design project: Creepy Julie's stealing babies.

48-hour film: A murderer and another murderer who is also a necropheliac compete over an alleyway and a girl and are eventually joined by family-man/killer Sam.

Yes. I think this is a re-occuring theme for me.

Anyways. I'm going to go get read for this party ordeal... I need to write a card and make the cakes look presentable and then drive off in my Honda with a trunk-full of tires.

.... That's a story for another blog...

-Berlyn

P.S. I think I should do a vlog of this entire blog in a british accent... Yes?

P.P.S. Happy Birthday Elisa. This one's for you :)

* The bag of condoms joke has to do with the fact that when I went to the clinic the other day... The lady asked me if I wanted a few condoms. Normally I would have responded: Naw, I'm good thanks. But this time I responded: Oh! Yes! Thank you! Nearly forgot.

I figured she'd pull out a jar and let me pick three or four... You know like lollies.

Wrong. She filled this paper bag to the brim with condoms.... And I'm sitting there like: What the hell am I supposed to do with all of these condoms? So... Now I have a gigantor bag of condoms and no idea what to do with all of them (I know. Half of you are like: Have sex. DUR. Well smarty pants I can have sex if my boyfriend lives in another state.... Besides who uses that many condoms that quickly?).... So I'm trying to make joke about them. I'm failing. But I think I have a new script idea.

To A Lovely Month! (edited)

Two weeks ago I wrote about the 48-hour film festival before the 48-hours were actually over... Before all the conflict and triumphs were through.... And for this. I apologize. I have robbed you all of the best parts of this 48-hour competition. BUT do not fear. I will spill my guts on everything right here and right now. Besides. It should be an entertaining experience.

So. Let me start with this:

(disclaimer 1)

Some names have been changed to protect my ass a LITTLE more. Though I'm sure it won't help.

(disclaimer 2)

I had fun doing the 48-hour film festival. I did. And I wouldn't change the experience in anyway. And I look forward to doing it again next year. BUT, I will never, ever, work with the group I worked with this year again. But. I did have fun.

(disclaimer 3)

I did not write this to ruin the lives of the mentioned people. I can't do that. I don't have that power. I just wanted to tell my side. They are great students and work hard but I felt I was wronged by them as a friend. So this is my side.

Okay. So lets all go back to the weekend of March 4th-6th.

So. When I wrote you all on that week I was extremly tired. Couldn't see properly and we had just finished filming. Julie, the editor, was sitting on my bed uploading all the clips.

Everything had seemed to go well. We all had fun on set and we got to leave set half an hour earlier than we had planned! Sounds like a dream come true, right?

But....

The blanket that was covering up all of our groups ugliest features was soon about to fall off. It just needed one strong breeze.

Enter (we'll call him) D.P.

D.P. was supposed to be the "other" editor, (I'm not going to go too deep into the details of this because this is not MY place. This was between D.P. and Julie... Again, not my place. But I need to mention it for the purpose of the story) so Julie edits half one, he edits half two. Which, in my opinion, is a stupid idea. Editing is like writing. It's an art. You can't write one half of a story and then hand it off to another writer (unless it's one of those books that switches from character to character).... Imagine if three and a half of the harry potter books were written by J.K. Rowling and the rest was written by Stephanie Meyer. Sounds awful right? This also goes for art as well. Imagine if a piece of art was done half way and then handed off to another painter? Picasso to Da Vinci.... Great artists but it wouldn't be a terrific piece of art... It would be weird.

So. When I heard that this was what was going down I was like: You sure? .... But I moved on. We brought all the footage up to my room started uploading it (transfering it might be a better word) Russell left four or five minutes into this. Leaving Julie to name every clip. Organize every clip. and do everything else it is editors do before they actually start putting stuff together (it's a process I am not a huge part of as I am not an editor).

He was going to let her do all the work and then just edit his half and act like it was all hunky dory. On set he didn't even know the script so now he planned on editing without really knowing the script?

But. Julie stayed up all night and edited almost the whole video.

When she told D.P. the next morning he was pissed but he didn't bitch us out or anything. Nope. He waited till ONE AM SUNDAY (the day we were to turn in the project) to come up to MY room and bitch Julie out.

Yeah.

Poor Julie, on almost 38-hours of no sleep had to go through this. After all of her hard work. So. I had Julie talk to him. Then he came up to my room with us and made a few notes on the video.

So again. Not my place. I'm done on that subject.

Now lets got to the next week. This week is all me so I'm going to speak my mind. I'll be polite because the two people most involved are just WAITING for me to say something to use against me.

So. The week of March 7th-13th:

A close friend of mine told me that apparently D.P. and (lets call her) Gaffer had been saying stuff behind my back the ENTIRE time on set. Yeah. Super mature guys.

We can never be 100% about shit-talk but this is apparently what went down.

So. Gaffer was the gaffer, they tape, sometimes help set up lights and all kinds of stuff. So. Often times I would ask Gaffer to tape down certain things (cause it's, you know, her job) and apparently when I turned around she would act (in front of the actors) as though I just asked her to juggle three light stands and a car. Her and D.P. apparently said that I was "snapping" at Gaffer. None of the actors or other workers thought I was.

Also. D.P. was the Director of Photography... But somewhere along the line he became a "co" director I guess... I respected this. I asked him if we needed anything else and if he had any requests. All kinds of things. I tried to work with him as best as I could because, at the time, I respected him.

The whole time I was working with him on this he was telling everyone that I was a bad director, that I wasn't listening to him, that the actors didn't respect me, that I was being mean and snappy.

I guess. Maybe I wasn't "good" at it. I have only directed once before this experience. I admit I am not the best director. But. My actors all told me that they did not feel stressed out and that they had fun on set. And I, at all times, did not feel stressed out. We started on time, we had fun but remained focused and we got to leave early.... I call that a success wouldn't you?

So. When I heard that all this had gone on behind my back I was a little more than fed up. I had dealt with these two saying shit behind my back before. Gaffer more than D.P.. And I only feel bad a little bit because I took it ALL out on

D.P. when I should have taken a lot out on Gaffer. Because

her shit-talking has gone on waaaaaay longer. Regardless. I'm sure she knows we're not cool.

So. I started ignoring them. The usual thing I do when I don't like someone. But D.P. texted me and asked "do you hate me?" and I responded "I'm sick of this. I need a break from our friendship". And he flipped out.

I shouldn't have expected anything less than a cardiac arrest from the two but... I was not expecting everything that ensued. D.P. bitched me out over text trying to get me to tell him who told me that he was saying shit and then came up to my room when I had told him I didn't want him to come up and yelled through my door at me.... Cause why would I want that energy in my room? Tell me that? What does talking it out in person going to do? I had made my mind up.

My favorite quotes from the two were:

"We only trash talked about Berlyn with you"

And

"If she wants to be a director she needs to take constructive critisism" (as though they had told me to my face the problems he had with my directing)

And (my personal favorite)

"I'm tired of this high school bullshit"

Yeah. This is college people.

Even if all of this hadn't gone down... I would still felt that lingering feeling of unacceptance in this "group" I was in, I was planning on withdrawing from the group before the shoot even happened, not fighting with D.P.

I'm not whining about this anymore. I'm just telling all of you that I've started to stand up for myself. I don't need poisonous people in my life.

I know they might wake up one day.... A day where they don't have to talk shit about everyone to feel okay about themselves, and can do their jobs without bringing in drama, and be good friends. When that day comes I will try to be friends again. But right now? I can't do it. I have too much on my plate and too many good things happening to me to be dragged down :)

Moving on. The following week:

March 14th- present.

After everything that happened with Russell and Marilyn had settled. I was hanging out with Julie a lot and talking to a lot of my guy friends (since the school is 90% men). I was invited to two production meetings.

For those of you who don't know what a production meeting is... It is a meeting where the production team meets up and discusses what needs to happen.

SO I GOT INVITED TO TWO OF THOSE!

TWO!

One with a guy from my screenwriting class and Julie. Where there is a VERY high possiblity that I will be the lead writer. That is tonight.

The other is with a bunch of my guy friends (basically all the people that I have wanted to work with but never got the chance). And the leader of this group told me, the other day, that I am the OFICIAL writer for the group. I was very excited..... Mostly because I love the group and because the leader really likes me (I like him too) and he's already in the business. The best part about him telling me I was the Oficial writer was that he's only read one of my scripts and it was a joke script about a totally unrealistic reunion... But he loved my dialouge and that's what got me the spot. He hasn't even read a script that I wrote with real characters and an actual plot.... It's all so exciting..... Just thinking about it makes me smile so big.

That's tomorrow..

BUT..... Possibly the biggest news is that last night my team won FIRST PLACE for the 48-hour film festival!!!!!!! I screamed. I was shaking like a leaf for an hour. I almost cried when my mom told me how proud she was.

Even before we won people were coming up and telling me how much they loved the film and that they wanted to collaborate. The leader of the production group I am the official writer for called me and congradulated me.

My guy friends all got second place and I was so happy that I could share that moment with them. They desereved it. Their film was terrific :) The only drama to place.

This isn't the first time I have ever won anything. Halloween I won second place for That's A Wrap. Which I wrote and helped direct (though I didn't get any credit). But winning this.... Well it felt so much better. I felt it confirmed everything that I had been thinking.

That Gaffer and D.P. can say all they want but I am good at what I do and people like my work. People like me and want to work with me.

Winning this. After everything that went down those three weeks made me feel like I was walking on sunshine. Made me feel like I had just won an oscar.

For the first time in my life I felt like I truly accomplished something.... Because people doubted me. There was AMAZING competition. There were tears, sleepless nights, yelling, gossiping and so much more. But after all of those panic attacks and everything.... There I was. Standing on stage holding my award, almost in tears.

I wouldn't trade that feeling for anything. Damn, I wish I could feel it everyday.

So, no. I wouldn't want a different experience in anyway, shape, or form. All the fighting, the disfuntction, the unhappiness was what needed to happen for this overall feeling of triumph. This feeling of being someone at my school, being apprieciated and noticed. I'm not saying that you should fight with people to feel successful.... I'm saying that I would not have felt the same way if I had never stood up for myself and taken a "break" from my friendship with D.P. and Gaffer. I would have felt the same way with That's a Wrap.... That something was wrong. Not right. And that I was sharing this victory with people that didn't give me the respect I deserved.

Even if I hadn't won. I would have kept things the same. It was a great experience. I would never want to unlearn everything I've learned from this.

So. Even though it was a hell ride... It all turned out all right. I couldn't be happier. Or more confident. And I think the friends I have now, here in California, are the people I want to remain friends with for a long, long time. The only people I would want to hug more than the friends I have here are the ones I have back home (and my family) who I will be seeing very soon.

Thank you to everyone that never doubted my abilities. Who never talked behind my back. Who was a true friend to me. Thank you. I am proud to have you in my life and I hope you want to stick around.

- Berlyn

P.S. To those of you who might have been offended by any of this.... I apologize. I didn't mean to offend anyone... Just to speak my mind. And to let everyone that there is never a cherry placed on top of a perfect sunday.... There is always a little shit here and there. Nothing and no one is perfect, we can only be the best we can be. Can't we?

Just bury me with all my books, okay?

It's dead week.

I don't know how it works for other universities, but here at WWU the week before finals week is called "dead week." It's pretty intense. Hours are extended at some of the on-campus markets and drip coffee is discounted past 5 pm to fifty cents. It's called the "red-eye special" or something like that. I've been a semi-active participant in this quarter's dead week, but I did not participate in the red-eye special... I made coffee in my room. I don't remember which day it was (because time has kind of been blending together the past couple of weeks), but I remember saying to my hallmate Ashley, "I probably should have only had ONE cup of coffee at 7:30, right?"

Anxiety levels have been high and energy has been low. I had my geology lab final on Thursday, which was the cause of much freaking out (but I got a 95.76% on the final and a 95.5% in lab overall! Yay!) and an extra credit "poster" due on Friday for geology lecture (and just got credit for completing it... hah...). My dear booboo Ashley Hurlbut and I spent a decent amount of time studying for our psychology final and will continue to study more tomorrow. I have two finals on Monday, which I'm not too thrilled about. Economics is at 8:00 am, which our professor kindly reminded us will feel like 7:00 am because of Daylight Savings Time. Then the psychology final is at 3:30 pm, which I am really stressing out about because I don't tend to do well on those exams even though I feel confident about knowing the material. Also, I have an extra credit paper due for psychology on Monday, which I've been working on all day. It's about my professor's book... and is not the most exciting read in the world. I've been writing the essay as I read the book. I intend to have this finished by tonight so I can spend all day tomorrow studying for economics and psychology. Then I'll spend Monday night and most of Tuesday studying for my geology lecture lab final on Wednesday, which I'm also kind of freaking out about.

I know this is not fascinating, and some of you may have way more to do than I do. However, I'm a little bit of a mess when it comes to managing stress. I absorb in four hours what others can take in in about thirty minutes. Projects that take me ten hours can take others two hours. I freak myself out about things, which detracts from time I could be spending doing something productive. While I was quickly reviewing my notes for my geology lab final, my geology lecture professor stopped by a table where a few other students and I were sitting. He reassured us all that we'd "rock" our finals (Get it? Rock? It's Geology! Okay...) and asked about our extra credit posters for his class. Noticing the panic in my voice, he told me not to worry about it and that it will all work out.

Don't worry? Don't worry about it... Such a foreign concept that is. Though, fair enough, he was right. I shouldn't have worried about it, because he didn't even read any of the information on my poster or ask me any questions. I got the same score as I would have if I had listed the lyrics to the Friends theme song. Maybe I should actually try to not worry when people tell me to not worry.

Anyway, I've been pulling my hair out all week trying to motivate myself and give myself enough energy. Right now, however, I have WAY TOO MUCH energy. Right before dinner, I burst into laughter for basically no reason. Samber yelled across the hall, "Karissa! Kim's lost it!" or something like that, and Karissa asked me if I was already going crazy from finals. No, I'm not going crazy from finals. I'm going crazy from dead week in anticipation of finals.

It is dead week and I am dead. DEADDDDDD.

I also do not agree with anything in the book I have to write a paper on... but since my professor who will be grading the paper is the author of the book, I feel like I should probably agree with her... or write her a love letter, at least. I just need her to like me and boost my grade, right? Ha.

Since I've been so tired, though, I've done some semi-awkward things this week. (Kim, awkward? No way!) For one, I slipped on my friend Sam's roommate's backpack. I stumbled, spilled coffee on myself, and, like a true lady, cursed. That was rather embarrassing. I can't remember other specific incidences (either because I was too tired to store them in my memory or because I've tried to block them out) but I do recall feeling like I kept saying a lot of strange things inappropriate for the situation.

I hope I'm not the only person who gets like this during dead week.

Anyway. I need to finish reading my book and writing my paper, so I'm going to say farewell.

For those of you studying for finals or facing your own dead weeks right now, I wish you good luck and hope you can remain sane.

-Kim

48-hours of INCREDIBLE mess-ups, tests of friendship, and injury upon injury upon injury.

The past few weeks have been some of the shittiest weeks since I moved to California. People fighting with other people, missing my family, missing my friends, missing my boyfriend, and being busy ALL THE TIME! But.... Per usual... Life will go on.

Hoever (this is my new word. It's like "however" but more slutty.... Lets make this a thing guys), this weekend is very, very, VERY special.

Me and a group of friends have enlisted in the 48-hour-film festival where you write, cast, film, and edit an entire five-minute film in 48-hours. To those of you not in any film classes : five-minutes never feels like five-minutes.... To those of you who are in film classes: Yeah... I ALREADY want to sleep for the rest of my life.

So anyways. My day started off like this:

7:00 Woke up and set my clock back ten minutes.

7:10 Woke up and ventured onto the internet for a bit.

7:15 Finally got up and got in the shower.

8:17 Headed down to meet my group and leave for the school.

8:48 Arrived at school.

9:00 Presentation!

So at the presentation we were told that we would have to add this line of dialouge: "What do you want from me?!", this action: A slap, and this object: A lipstick tube. Fun stuff... Right? Then we got all of our equipment and stuffed it into Mary's car.

The definition of fun by the way, if you didn't know.

Then Ryan and Julie (the editors) and I all went up to an editing suite. They found creepy music for the shoot while I fixed up the script... This was all very convinient because the first line of dialouge was already "What do you want?!" So we just added... Well you know.

We made one of the murderers slap the other one in defense.

And then we pulled a lipstick tube out of the pocket of my "dead" neighbor Calvin, covered it in blood and handed it to Scarlett.

10:00 - Group goes to IHOP.

None of us had eaten. Hence why we went there. But we couldn't shoot at that time anyways, the script takes place at night so... Daylight was a no-no.

Anyways. I'm not going to talk about IHOP... I thought I should just give a breif synopsis of the film. So... Here it goes. It will be up on youtube after the film festival.

So. The film starts with Rita, a twenty-something pretty girl, is dragged into an alley way by a mysterious man. The man has a knife to her throat when another man appears. It is another murderer, Phil. These two murderers proceed to argue who's alley way it is and who gets to murder Rita.

It's a REALLY dark comedy... But.... It's also "cute" cause I write cute stuff. The idea was thought up when my friend Julie and I were talking about a competeing murderer and rapist fighting over a girl in an alley way. We changed the rapist to a murderer so we wouldn't offend anyone. But... Phil's a necrophiliac so....... Similar.

One of the characters is based completely off of one of our friends here. Sam. He's great. He's SOOOOO funny and he's from Vermont and he's just so sweet. His character walks in murders a guy then walks up to the original two murderers and Rita and talks to them all politly.

Sam's great.

But everything else in the script was baisically me, sitting in front of my computer, cracking myself up.

10:30 - went back to dorms and gathered all of the things that we needed (though we still forgot the flashlight).

11:30 - We left for the location (an alleyway).

12:00 - Arrived at the alley way.

We blocked and talked and dillydalied for about six hours until the sun went down/ our actors came. It was AWFUL.

2:35 - Scarlett (our lead actress) calls and tells me she'll have to be late.

3:40 - Actors arrive....

Yeah... That was fun. We got all the actors there super early to rehearse then Scarlett had to leave and couldn't return until six. So we worked with the guys. The two guys bickering read through lines and stuff. Sam and Calvin (my neighbor) got to practice their "fight" scene. Where Sam kills Calvin.

That lasted till....

5:40 - Everything is set up and now we wait for Scarlett.

There was this one adult from Singapore that WOULD NOT LEAVE US ALONE I almost tore his face off. I finally told him to leave. It took much argument but he left. I mean, the guy was like, I'm a director, I've done this before, I'm making a feature.... ARG SO ANNOYING!

6:00 - Filming starts.

The first section of filming went perfect. The only problem was a few lines and continuity stuff. After that, anything that went badly was a combination of competitiveness, annoyance, and exhaustion. Half of our camera work looks like a five year old did it and whenever I yelled at people they were all hurt about it. I'm small, I have to yell.

Shit... I'm so tired I can't even see straight.

Anyways....

11:18 - Filming ends.

We were all pretty much dead. I hadn't sat for six hours at tha point and I had needed to pee since seven but hadn't. We planned to leave at midnight but.... We left early.... It as nice :) So.... We left...

11:35 - We all head home.

No all that is left to do is editing and seeing if we need to go back and get another shot. Yeah... The other shot thing might happen.

12:00 - Home, tired.

1:00 ish - started writing this blog.

Now I'm trying to think of a way to phrase my happiness and excitement towards this project. There are so many great things about it. I mean... I wrote the script and directed it but....... Those aren't the ONLY reasons it's great. I'm really excited about the project because I'm 99% sure I am quitting the production company afterwards :D

What I have learned from this shoot is that you can't always get what you want... You have to deal... Cause if you don't.... Someone might poison your muffins. You never, ever know.

For me, this experience has broght me back to what I said waaaaay back in October..... THIS is where I want to be and WHAT I WANT to do.... I'm happy being on the verge of total exhaustion. It takes me away from all the pain I have been feeling for like ever and brings me into the creation of something new.

Anyways.... I can't see straight... So I guess I will talk to you all in a few week.

- Berlyn

P.S. I reference three murderers in the script. The green river killer was one of them and half of the people had no idea who he was lol. Yep. I am from Auburn, WA totally.

Think I can jump from this building to the next without falling? WATCH ME.

So I've always known I'm not a very risky person. I'm just not. I've always been the overly cautious one who asks, "Are we allowed to do this?" And I've never really liked that about myself. I'm sure it's probably gotten me out of a lot of dangerous situations, but sometimes I wish I could be the adventurous one. The Tommy Pickles of the real world, you know?

So I dyed my hair pink. No, not all the way pink, but the bottom layer of my hair is pink and so is a highlight on the top. I understand that dying my hair is not exactly the same as taking a spontaneous road trip with the guy you just met at the grocery store at 2 am when you had just finished riding your motorcycle on the edge of a building. However, it was slightly impulsive and I didn't ask my mother first, so it's a good baby step.

Right?

It wasn't even something I thought about doing. Brēnna asked if I wanted to go to the store to get hair dye because she just wanted to DO SOMETHING. Do something? I want to do something. I want to dye my hair, too. Let's do it. Let's go catch a bus.

See, I always thought that if I were to dye my hair, it would be a more practical color like auburn. Not pink. Though pink was not the color I intended on in the first place... I bought purple hair dye. My hair was purple, too, until I took a shower. (Creepiest shower I have ever taken by the way... There was purple EVERYWHERE. It was dripping all down me and splattering on the curtain and the walls... I swear, it looked like Barney was getting murdered.) Then toward the end of the shower, it wasn't purple anymore. It was PINK.

I like it though, so my hair turning the wrong color isn't such a big deal. I walked with confidence the next day. I felt like a different person. Of course, random students walking past me would have no idea that my hair had not been pink before, but I knew. That's what mattered. I knew that I did something somewhat out of character, and even though it was minor it meant something to me.

I mean, when else am I going to have the opportunity to dye my hair some crazy color? Samber and I were talking about that because she was considering a purple streak in her hair. She said, "I mean, it's not like I'm going to be a 40-year-old mom and dye my hair purple. If not now, when?" EXACTLY. Now is the time to take risks. I'm not condoning stupid, reckless behavior (though the adrenaline rush is sure to make it worth it... for the time being).

Me being me, however, I over-analyzed the situation and turned it into one of those after-school specials. Even this one minuscule risks turned out the wrong way for me... My hair is not the color I intended it to be. So with every risk I take, something unplanned will happen. Maybe I'm just not meant for risks. Maybe a greater risk will have greater consequences. Oh goshhh, I'm boring!

Though some of that is definitely right, I cannot live my life like that. Yeah, there may be consequences to risks, but there are consequences to NOT taking risks as well. I don't want to live my life scared of what might happen if I step out of my comfort zone. I think that as long as there is a good balance and I'm still a little cautious and smart about taking risks, then that change is good.

So yeah, maybe I'm not the most spontaneous person ever. Maybe I'm not the one people go to when they want to go on an adventure. But I've got PINK HAIR, and dang it, you can't take that away from me. (Urg, that reminds me... My psychology professor was lecturing about Identity vs. Role Confusion and how teenagers go through a stage of finding out who they are. She was saying how adolescents do crazy things like dye their hair and pierce themselves, when the two girls sitting behind Ashley and me said "Hot pink." I just turned around and looked at them, then they did a little innocent gasp and giggled. Bitches. I like my hair. I don't like your voices, so shut up :) heh... Okay, I'm done being hostile.)

I remember during senior year of high school I had this deal with one of my best friends, Brianne, that we would do something new every day that was unusual for ourselves. One night after making this pact, Berlyn was with me. She was trying to help me think of something to do. I had NO IDEA what to do. So we got in her car and headed toward Lover's because I had never been there before. It was closed. We just drove around and tried to think of something out of my ordinary to do... because that's what we do. We think a lot. I think I'm getting used to the fact that I just think about everything far too long and sometimes miss my chance. Oh well. Thinking is good for college, right?

Right?

College, or at least this age, is the time where many people discover who they are and where their boundaries lie. I'm going to dye my hair, but I'm not going to shave my head. She's going to go to a party and drink a little, but she's not going to get drunk and drive her car home. He's going to ask an attractive lady out on a date, but he's not going to try to get into her pants. I mean, there is ALWAYS going to be opportunities for risk taking in life, but I feel as though they're more present at this age. Or at least the reckless or stupid ones are. Quitting your job when you're older because you're unhappy and then looking for a new job? That's a risk. It can backfire, but it can also be beneficial. You just have to figure out if the benefits outweigh the risks.

Love, your pink-haired friend,

Kimberly

Above: It might be hard to see because it's small, but here's the upper layer. There isn't much pink... Unless I put my hair up.

Below: Bottom layer.

I need to get off of this bus....

I'm willing to bet all the money in my accont (which isn't any) that all of you have gone on some sort of roadtrip at some point in your life. Whether it was with your family, or your friends, or your significant other across the country or just a few hours away. I am also willing to bet all of the money in my wallet (which isn't any) that none of you (or very few) have gone on a eight and a half hour road trip with about one hundred strangers....
Am I right? Am I right?

Last week I was suffering from a significant amount of panic attacks because I was to board a Greyhound bus and ride for eight and a half hours to Arizona.
What I was worried about was missing the bus... Or getting off the bus for a "break" and coming back to see it had gone. Thinking about this all still worries me...
Why was I riding this bus?
To visit my boyfriend, Axl, in Arizona.

Now. Having panic attacks is one thing. However, having nightmares is another.
I had a nightmare that I missed the bus and had to call Axl and tell him that I missed the bus and that I wasn't going to make it to Arizona.
He cried.

I woke up and lost my head.
And that was a week BEFORE I was supposed to get on the bus... So that left me to freak out for a whole week.

BUT.
Getting on the bus wasn't as bad as my mind wanted to convince me it was.
On Thursday the tenth... I left my aunts house for Hollywood. We got there and checked my bag and went over to Sharkey's mexican grill to wait.
I had tofu tacos... A strange idea, I know, but they were pretty damn good.

Anyways. After we ate, I got on the bus.
The first way was weird. Their were a bunch of gansta looking people who were loud and talkative... Like they had been friends for life.
But everyone switched buses in LA.

I had to go through a bag check and the guy telling us what terminal to go to told me I was beautiful... (Thank you sir).... And then I snuck onto the bus leaving at 2:45 instead of catching the bus I was supposed to at 4:30.... I know. I'm a rebel.

I took a seat towards the back of the bus and got comfortable.
The bus ride to Arizona wasn't very full. People sat around me but never next to me... This was because almost everyone had their own seats. This was nice. I could lay out and put my backpack next to me... All kinds of nice stuff. Except the bus stopped all the time.
My favorite stop?
I don't know the town but it was seriously after having been on the bus for ten minutes we stopped to pick up more people. I didn't get off the bus, cause I was scared, so I starred out the window at this house that sat not far from the station.

Not only did this house have a shed built out of random metal objects.... But it also had about twenty different sized manaquins nailed to the roof... They were dressed in clothes and doing at least one of the following activities: Driving a car, riding a bike, or FALLING OFF OF THE ROOF.
Yeah... Some were children, some were adults... I swear the two driving the car were gremlins.
It was so weird.
The guy sitting behind me kept trying to convince his sleeping wife that the house had people on the roof. She wasn't buying it.

"Honey. Baby. This house has people all over the roof. Their riding bikes and stuff."
"Stop it Frank"

Yeah. It was great. As we drove out of the parking lot I tried to catch a glimpse of anything telling me that this house was a museum of junk but no such luck... I wonder if it really is just someone's house.
After that, not much of the trip was very exciting. It got really dark on the bus and the drowsiness from my meds wore off... So I was left to watch cars pass on the freeway.
The weirdest things that happened on the way was we would pass cars, with their lights on, in the grassy ditches beside the freeway... I was wondering why they were sitting there. Were people having sex? Were people doing drug deals? Were people waiting for the money so they could return the annoying little girl in the back seat to her parents?
I guess I'll never know.
But this led me to think.... Would the greyhound bus stop if there was a murder happening on the side of the road? Would the driver pull over and try to help the person in trouble?
Just wondering.

Eventually I pulled out my computer and typed and when I finished typing I played Sims 3... My house caught fire.... Everyone lived but this was seriously the first time that had ever happened. I was appalled.
I had to stop playing shortly afterwards....

Then I was left to stare out into the dark gloom that is night.

We stopped for a dinner break in Blithe (great name...)... The bus driver told us to be careful walking across the street to KFC... What does that say about this place?
Anyways. I stayed on the bus forever. Afraid to get off. I finally did, telling myself to get a Nuerosleep (you know they have Nuero-Overhangovers now? crazy...) because I had slept so much on the bus I was unsure I'd be able to sleep once I got to Axl.
So I got off the bus and went into the gas station. They didn't have the drink so I got gum and a blue icee (cause that's always plan B (if they don't have this I'm gettin a blue icee)). I was standing in line and heard:

"Hey mister bus driver!"

It was this odd looking black dude. The man who replied was a short man with a pointed nose... I assumed he was our bus driver but he was another buses driver.
ANyways. They proceeded to get in an arguement about why the guy couldn't get a beer.

"What if you didn't know I consumed the beer?"
"Well I would smell it on your breath and I would have to ask you to get off of the bus"
"Well what if you couldn't tell. I hold my alcohol really well"
"I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE CAN'T JUST HOLD THEIR LIQUOR FOR SIX HOURS!"

The bus driver was in line (in front of me and two others) this whole time. The cashier just stood their like:

"Sir? You're total is...."
"Sir? You're all rung up?"
"Sir?"

Poor guy.

I got my stuff and got on the bus and then the rest of the way back wasn't a big deal.
Long. But not a big deal.

It was so cute though... I walked into the station and Axl turned around and like attacked me. It was so nice to see him. He really should be here with me... Because that was the original plan... But he has to be there. SO it just sucks. It's hard to be happy about much of anything when a big piece of your puzzle is missing.

I was there until sunday.
Then I had to get back on the bus. This way.... The bus was PACKED... They had to turn people away....

I sat next to a trucker who sat next to me because he wanted to sit beside two other truckers. Yeah... Fun...
I think I slept 90% of the way...

However... There was a drug addict on the bus.

Thirty minutes into the ride she started screaming at this guy to stop staring at her. We pulled over and the driver (who sounded like George Bush but looked like Cleavland Brown from Family Guy) tried to confront her but she barricaded herself in the bathroom.
She was okay the rest of the way. Everytime i went to the back of the bus to throw something away I could hear the other people talking about how insane she was.
At one point I was waiting to pee. And she was staring at me whispering..
"I don't care about this girl... I don't like this girl"
To herself.
I was like... I just want to pee can't this person hurry the hell up?!

She also smelt like piss.

This cute couple sat in the seats across from me and they would gossip about the girl. It was bad.

The only thing that was cool about the ride back was those windmills that collect energy from the wind. Serious... Miles and miles of these things.
It was beautiful... And strange at the same time.
My favorites were the ones that were broken and their pieces lay on the ground.. Unmoving...

My friend Tyler picked me up and when I got back I unpacked and watched the grammies with friends.
It was okay.

I really don't enjoy riding the bus...
It's gross and crunched for space and so many other things. But unfortunatly it's the only way to see Axl.... Which sucks.
It just goes to show that a lot of the time in life you have to suck it up and deal.
Otherwise you don't get want you want.

What about all of you? Have any of you had a crazy trip that you would like to share? How did you feel afterwards and why did you have to go on it in the first place?

- Berlyn

P.S. Sorry if this blog was all over the place.

P.P.S. The picture above came from an article titled "details on horrific Greyhound bus killings"... Yeah I don't know.

I think we should all live in Candyland today. Or be best friends with Tinkerbell.

Aww man, it's that time of the year again... You know what I mean. Do I even have to say it? Okay, for those of you who are hiding under a rock and are unaware... today is the anniversary of the day Richard Nixon planted all his sneaky little taping systems around the White House! Ha, nah (well, that is true... but not what I feel like writing about) it's Valentine's Day... Yay!

Little (and not so little) kids all over the place are gracefully shoving their faces with candy. Tastay. Man, choosing who got which mass-produced Valentine's Day card was such an ordeal for me when I was little. I'd cover my bedroom floor with all of them and have my little list of my classmates out and freak out over "Who gets what card?! I can't give the wrong one to the wrong person!!" Yeah... I mean, you couldn't give an overly friendly card to a boy or he would think you liked him. You didn't want to give all your best friends the same card, but how would you decide who gets the nicest one? It's like choosing who you like more. Yeah, I spent too much time with those cards. It was so much fun though.

Even when you were little there was a little bit of pressure on all the Valentine's Day hoopla... But now it's just ridiculous. Teenagers and college-aged young adults are freaking out weeks (or days, to the men out there) in advance about what they should do.

What would he like?

What should I get him to make him know how much I love him?

What would that gift SAY about me?

Is that too corny? Is it just corny enough?

Aww crap, Valentine's Day is tomorrow... Wal-Mart teddy bear, a rose and discount chocolate it is!

I remember silently freaking out in sophomore year of high school about what to get my boyfriend of the time. I finally asked my friend Steffi if she had any suggestions and somehow we ended up asking a boy in our class what he would like.

"Sex," is what he replied.

"Uhm, yeah no," I oh-so-cleverly responded. "Any other ideas?"

"I'd have to think about it..."

Come to think of it, I don't even remember what I ended up getting him... I just remember all the things I THOUGHT about getting him. Oh my. Haha. I think I made him a really terrible mixed CD or something. Probably... Yeah. Probably one full of my "Oh my goodness, you should pay attention to every single lyric in every single song on this CD so you can know exactly how I feel about you and us and me and you and then it'll be perfect and uhhhduhhhhhh" compilations...

I can't even imagine how it is for married couples. I mean, if you're married, I feel like holding the commitment to stay together is a great enough present for ANY day, isn't it? I mean, yeah, flowers are probably a decent idea, but why do so many people think there has to be some big romantic gesture involved? It all seems kind of unnecessary to me... but then again, I'm slightly cynical when it comes to the idea of "love" so what do I know?

I think maybe I'm one of those girls who thinks she hates Valentine's Day but would appreciate a cute little gift as long as it wasn't a regular run-of-the-mill presents... I'm not one for expectations. I don't like to have them and I don't want to be held tog them. Valentine's Day just seems like the biggest day for expectations... aside from your wedding anniversary (oh my goodness, that would be stressful).

This is my first single Valentine's Day in three years. I honestly don't really care, but it could be nice if I had a nice gentleman to romantically pour my NyQuil for me later tonight (oh yes, I'm sick. The area around my bed is a mess, I'm in my bathrobe, and I keep doing this really adorable coughing my organs out thing... Wouldn't you want to spend the day with me, baby?).

I don't like or dislike Valentine's Day. It's over tomorrow. If it lasted a week, then I'd probably hate it with a hot, fiery passion, but it doesn't.

For those of you who love Valentine's Day and are doing something fun today, go you! I hope you have a fantastic time. Maybe let me know what your plans are.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxxoxoxoxoxoxoxox

HUGS AND KISSES

I LOVE YOU BBY GRRRLLL

-Kim