And just KICK-ASS!

I want to tell you all a story.

A story about a dream.

A dream that a girl had a very, very long time when she was just a little girl.

What was this dream?

To be a superhero.

Yes. I have wanted to be a superhero ever since I can remember. It probably started with saturday morning cartoons... Or X-Men... Or the justice league/ teen titans.

.... Who knows when it started... My point it that I used to have this dream (well... Still do)...

So, I used to dream of dressing up in tights and running around saving the city.

Then Kick-Ass came out.

That was one of the best movies I have see in a long time. Mostly because all my dreams came true. I looked at Kick-Ass and Hit Girl and Big Daddy and thought "Oh man.... If only my life could be like this".

And now...

My life is like that.

Yes people. There is a superhero group in Seattle.

Who are they?

The Rain City Superhero Movement.

They dress up in costumes, drive around in a Kia, and fight crime.

The leader's name is Pheonix Jones the Guardian of Seattle (his girlfriend is the one that drives the group around in the Kia).

The rest of the team's names are:

Thorn, Buster Doe, Green Reaper, Gemini, No Name, Catastrophe, Thunder 88, and Penelope.

(Don't listen to Captain Ozone and Knight Owl as they are not part of the group...)

Now, none of these people have powers (unless you call tae kwon doe (I know..... I KNOW!) and military training super powers)but they still go out and fight crime to make Seattle a little bit safer.

I love these guys.

I want to be one of them.

I want to put on tights and wear a cape, and a mask, and KICK ASS!

Moving on... The other day, I was in Seattle with my wife (Anna) and we were hoping to run into them... Unfortunatly we had no such luck.

But we discuss different methods of getting them to us. Like causing havoc or becoming supervillians.

I told this to another friend and they told me that superheros would only lead to supervillians.

But if I was pheonix jones I would not be concerned about 5' 2'' me and 5'0'' Anna running around the town causing havoc.

Besides... We would look so cute in our superhero costumes that no one would ever be terrified of us.

Sure.

If some crazy terminator type walked into town and blew up a building... I would be scared. But that's what the military is for.

So what if supervillians waltz onto the scene. They are just like the heros... They don't have an upper hand unless they have a bazooka.

I think.

Instead of worrying about the problems that these heros COULD cause.... Lets just celebrate them.

I mean. Did you know that there is a law that can get you arrested if you do not help out when someone is in danger? So that means that somewhere along the line someone watched as another person (or persons) was hurt. Then they made this law because it's not just that one person... It's a lot of persons.

A lot of people who just sit and watch as other people are hurt.

Why do we have to critisize people for putting themselves in danger to protect others. They don't put on the costumes and follow police scanners brainlessly.

They KNOW the danger they are in and they don't care.

Because protecting others is more important than standing off to the side too scared to help.

I respect these "vigilantes" for what they really are... Heros.

So. Seattle readers. Let's celebrate them. Lets give them a cheer whenever we pass them on the streets.

Non-Seattle readers.... You should start something like them in your town... Because it feels AWESOME to have superheros.

I only hope that one day I will have the guts to put on a costume and go out onto the streets and fight crime.

I hope you all feel the same way too.

-My name is Berlyn Lee and I work out everyday....

P.S. I was going to post a picture of me in a super hero outfit but my mom wouldn't buy me the Mens Flash underwear........

P.P.S.

Favorite Quote from HP book 2:

“We’ve trained harder than they have, we’ve been flying in all weathers--“ (“Too true,” muttered George Weasley. “I haven’t been properly dry since August”).”

AND Book 3:

“Keep him?” He said uncertainly. He looked closely at the owl for a moment; the, to Harry’s and Hermione’s great surprise, he held him out for Crookshanks to sniff.

“What do’you reckon?” Ron asked the cat. “Definitely an owl?”

Hey, turn that power back on!

So I was going to write about something completely different, but recent events changed my mind.

The power is out.

I. Hate. This.

I'm hoping that I can finish typing this before my laptop's battery dies. Yay for my 90-100 wpm count finally meaning something, I guess? Though I type faster than my mind works so who knows if it will do me any good...

So I was laying in bed listening to the crazy wind at 4:20 am when the power went out. First sign that it went out? The oxygen bubbles for my fish tank stopped. GREAT. The lady at Petco said they should only go two hours without the bubbles... It's been almost four now. There's nothing I can do though. When my mom and I went to our regular coffee stand, Angie, our favorite barista, suggested that I blow bubbles into the tank using a straw. I'd do that if human breath didn't contain carbon dioxide. (It is dioxide, right? Not monoxide? I think it's C02... and di is 2... ahhh whatever, this isn't Chemistry) So basically I just have to sit here and hope they're okay. (Oh yeah, I have fish, too. I wasn't really worried about them plotting against me until I read Berlyn's last post. Thanks, love.)

Every time the power goes out I remember how dependent I am on energy (hah... not just electricity but also my body's energy... carbs and caffeine and... er, too many tangents? kay.) and whenever I'm living with power, I don't really think about it at all.

My plan was to get up at 7 am. I was going to TAKE A SHOWER. Kind of hard to do when you can't see what you're doing. I don't want to pour body wash on my hair and shave with shampoo. Plus, I'd probably cut my leg off with my disposable razor ('cuz it's just that good of a clean shave!). While my hair was air drying for a bit, I was going to clean. I was going to VACUUM. Self-explanatory, I think. Can't really plug that monster in. I was going to tidy up my room! I can probably still do that, though... with candles around. Yeah, I'll do that when I'm done here. But I was going to get all cute for my friends I'm seeing today. Giving me eyeliner with all the lights ON is still like handing a toddler a package of Sharpies, so letting me try to do that in the dark is probably not a good idea... Oh boy.

At least our coffee stand has power. I don't know what I'd do without my coffee this morning. I'd probably be having four panic attacks an hour because none of my plans are possible at this moment. See, the friends that are coming over today (in about three or three and a half hours, actually) have not been to my house before. They have not been to my town before. So the entire day is planned. They (Michelle and Ashley) are going to drive to my house from Kirkland. I'll quickly show them my house, because I've had the opportunity to see both of their houses, and then we'll drive over to Samber's house. We'll see her new puppy and hang out there for a bit. Then we're supposed to show them around Lake Tapps, Sumner, and Auburn. Christmas shopping at the SuperMall (the name is false advertising) and maybe some little shops in Sumner are on our agenda. Then maybe we'll go back to Samber's house to get ready for tonight, I don't know. But anyway, our friend Karissa is having an Ugly Christmas Sweater Party tonight. It's in Port Orchard and the four of us girls are going. After that, it's sleepover time at Samber's.

Good thing Samber has power. I think so, anyway. We drove past her neighborhood on the way to get coffee and there appeared to be power. So she's going to be all cute and I might still be in my pajamas and dinosaur hoodie. Fabulous.

Sorry I'm whining like a little kid. I just really want the power to come back on. Our society has really become so reliant on technology, but I'd gladly hand over my cell phone and Wii to be able to see what I'm doing while I take a shower and simply get ready for the day. You know, little kids don't even need their parents to read to them anymore? Hand them a new technological book and it freaking reads to the kid when they touch a fake pen to it. What happens when they THINK they know how to read and a teacher hands them a real book? "Where's the pen? Where's the speaker?" Fahrenheit 451 images are spinning through my mind. Oh boy.

I could take a turn and make this about technology dependence, but I don't have enough battery life to finish typing all those thoughts. Funny, isn't it? (I think it's also ironic, but that word gets used incorrectly all the time and I don't want to be another violator.) I can't write about technology dependence because I don't have enough technology right now. har har har.

Well, the battery symbol is blinking at me so I guess that's my cue to wrap this up. I like power. I want my power back (heh, authority power as well. Maybe. Dance, puppets, dance! Wow, okay, I'm really weird this morning...) so I can do all the things I had planned to do. I'm going to go clean my room now using candlelight. I hope you guys have power! If you do, send me your good thoughts so I can shower.

-Kimberly

PS. Don't comment about generators. I don't want to hear it.

It's time for another episode of paranoid thoughts with your host Beeeeeerrrlllyyynnn!

I have a new pet fish.

Her name is Beatrix (after Bellatrix Lestrange from the Harry Potter series) she is a small blue and red betta that Axl (my boyfriend) and I purchased from the Petco not far from our apartment.

At first we thought she was a boy (because she isn't brown and ugly like most female bettas), but the cashier informed us otherwise.

Beatrix is, currently, my only living mate (as Axl is working in Arizona). Though I have lived with this fish for a number of weeks I have yet to find out what her true intentions are.

Sure, she is adorable and small and seems to get excited when you approach her bowl... But is that really excitement, or is it rage?

You see. I have no idea if my betta is the most friendly betta in the world or the most dangerous one.

So many things could be misinterpretted.

Sure, she eats her food like she's just made a kill and she watches me (as she was moments ago) whenever I am near her bowl... But couldn't those be misrepresented as hunger (even though is well fed, friends... WELL FED) and admiration for her caring owner?

I'm not convinced.

I guess I will never know Beatrix's true intentions unless I throw a goldfish in there with her and wait to see her reaction.

Why am I discussing my fish you ask?

Because as I was watching her devour her food tonight like she had never been fed before in her life (I fed her this morning) I was thinking about how many different situations this relationship I have with my fish can be applied to.

I'm going to coin a name for this before someone else does... Lets see... The Paranoid Fish Owner Syndrome (PFOS, pronouced Pee-ffosss).

For example.

Most of the United States population vote for a president every four years. At first, we're confident. We watch them on the news, we read about them on the internet and we replace their security gaurds with robots to keep a closer eye on them (what, just me?) until finally we get to vote.

Basically we look at each president (fish) closely and decide.

Then, who ever wins goes to office and the population is left to stare at their new president (fish) and wonder if it really is the best president (fish) out of the choices.

Today, many people (not including me) stare at Obama and wonder, I expected so much more from this fish.

(You're probably wondering what I'm thinking... I've only had this fish for two years, he seems nice and could probably accomplish a lot more if someone stopped throwing other betta fish into the tank.)

What I am trying to get at is that PFOS can be applied to anything.

When you walk into a new place with a lot of people you don't immediatly choose who you will be hanging out with. You would look at all the options (people/fish) before finally making a desicsion (I know. I spell like a nine year old).

And even after the desiscion you are left to wonder if you made the right one.

She's watching me again. I'm fairly certain she knows I am talking about her.

What I'm trying to get at is that the human population is a rather catious and paranoid species. Why do we spend forever after a desiscion wondering if it was the right one. Why have I spent days wondering if my fish is simply cheerful and loveing or psycopathic and murderous? Why can't I simply believe the first option? She is cute, loveable and happy to see me... Why does my mind wander to: Maybe she secretly wishes she could tear me to shreds?

With people we do the same thing.

I have a large amount of friends (I'm not bragging, I'm just saying I'm better than you)(Just kidding.... Please love me...) but on a constant basis I find myself thinking about their motives.

Could her smile mean that she is happy with my idea or that she is pretending it was a good idea?

Humans, as a race, are paranoid that everything will fall apart based on their choices. Why is this? My theory is that since day one we have been taught to believe that if we make a choice and it falls apart, it's our fault.

Sure, our teachers, mothers, fathers, and books tell us that mistakes are what make us smarter. But we are still scared about making them.

When was the last time you made a descsion that went horribly wrong and didn't freak out for, what seemed like, an era?

I don't think I am the person to pose a solution to this problem, because I am one of the more paranoid people in the population (constantly checking to see if my fish is watching me and what not)... But I would like to think that some day, far from this one that it won't be that way.

Maybe, some day, I will be forced to purchase another betta, and instead of trying to find it's hidden motives I will choose the more pleasant point side.

However, for now I will probably remain the same. I will probably watch my fish eat her food every day of her short-betta-life wondering is she is imagining that they are little balls of my flesh.

----

On a side note. I have a couple unrelated things to say:

One: I Christmas-a-fyed the page. You're welcome.

Two: I started reading the Harry Potter Series :D. I finished the first book today and will be sharing with you my overall favorite quote from each book.

Sorcerer's Stone:

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks"

Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore, "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

Three: I am going to begin advertising other blogs when I want to... So, if you have nothing else to do, drop by my friend Julie's blog here: http://tritrifilmstud.blogspot.com/2010/11/off-to-see-wizard.html

Four: I'm fairly certain I am going to be starting something on Youtube involving me somehow reading things I have written and vlogging. I have yet to figure it all out but I will inform you all on my next blog.

Five: I recently saw a movie called Casino Jack, Jack was played by good old Kevin Spacey and he ended each of his arguement with his name and "I work out everyday" which explains why I am ending this blog post like this:

My name is Berlyn Lee and I work out every day.

P.S. Thank you all for the support. I really love each and every one of you.

Why don't you take a picture? It'll last longer!

Hello, my name is Kimberly and I am a photo fanatic.

Well, kind of.

See, I absolutely love pictures. Especially ones of people. I love looking at them and I also enjoy taking them. They make me happy.

So I was really excited when my mom said she had a coupon for 50 free prints at Costco. I made an album on Costco's photo web site and my mom ordered them. They were waiting for me when I went home for Thanksgiving break. I was so excited. You have no idea.

Now I have 50 more photos taped to my wall, desk, and the wardrobe next to my bed. They border the window and trace a square pole thing going vertical over my bed (It's really weird and I don't know how to describe it. I'll take pictures... of my pictures.). I look at them and smile. My hallmates come in my room and also get excited that I have new pictures.

This got Samber and me to thinking... what is it about photographs that make people happy? When I look at my own personal photos of friends and such, I smile because they remind me of good times. Good moments have been captured and the photograph is a reminder. But I also really enjoy looking at pictures of people I don't know and probably never will know. So do Samber and quite a few of my other friends. Why?

There are so many web sites and books dedicated to photographs as well. One of my favorites is weheartit. It's a website for photos that people love. If you've ever thought "I wish there was a spot where I could just look at all the photos I've 'liked' on Facebook all in one place," then this is probably a web site you'd like. Members "heart" photos and they then go on their profile. Here's mine: http://weheartit.com/circustricks

There's so many different types of photographs though, and I love almost all of them. My hallmate and friend, Michelle Baba, says "Photo booths are the funnest because you can just be goofy and not have to look good." This is so true. I love going into photo booths. Back in freshman year of high school, my friend Katie DeTemple and I went into a photo booth with our Orange Julius samples and I made my cup look like an elephant trunk. I'm... really cute. Silly pictures in general are pretty great because there's really no pressure to look good.

Speaking of pressure to look good... Man, I wish I was photogenic. Do you also wish to be photogenic? Well, watch this video of a girl as awkward as I am trying to be photogenic! TIPS INCLUDED, YESSSS.

Wasn't that enlightening? No? Er... sorry... Moving on!

I cannot stand posing for pictures if nobody else is in the frame. Senior pictures would have been absolutely dreadful if I didn't know the photographer. I wish I was like a mannequin so the photographer could just position me exactly as they want. Good thing I don't get my picture taken often... That's ONE reason I could never be a model (there's also the fact that I'm about seven inches too short, don't have the right body type, don't know what angles work for me, and lack an uber amount of confidence). Phew.

Samber also enjoys looking at other people's photos because it gives you a glimpse into their life. She told me that when she looks through friends' albums and sees other people, then she knows the people in the pictures are important to the person who has the picture. Something that I now agree with but hadn't thought of before was Samber saying "I also like seeing pictures of people before I knew them. It's interesting to see what's important to them."

All the pictures in my dorm room and the people in them are very important to me. I hope nobody looks in my room, seems pictures of them, and thinks "Wow, creeper, much?" Because it's not really a shrine... It's just daily reminders of happy times and significant people.

These are two more areas where I have photos!

So to those of you who are also photo fanatics, I want to know a few things.

Why do you like pictures?

Where do you store/display your pictures?

What do your photographs mean to you?

And anything else you'd like to share.

Signing off...

Kimber

I miss YOU.

I miss my friends.

I miss my family.

I miss my dog.

I miss snow...

I miss Washington.

I. Miss. EVERYTHING.

I've been sitting here, clueless about what to write. And that's probably because I'm wallowing in my own pity party here in the sunny state of California. It might also be the fact that CARS is playing in the background and I HATE CARS (it's the ONLY pixar movie I can't stand AND they're making a second movie... Dumb). So basically I'm distracted.

I think it's mostly the friends thing. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've made friends since I've moved here. A bunch. I've made friends that invite me over and like having me around AND they like Axl... So that's a plus. I like all my new friends. And I know that if I keep hanging out with them they will become even better friends. But what I can't stop getting over is all the differences between the friends I have here and the friends I have at home.

For one thing. Almost all of the friends I have here are guys. Because the mas majority

of people attending Columbia College Hollywood are guys.

Almost all the friends I have at home are girls. I don't know why. It's not like there's a bigger population of girls back in Auburn than there is here in Northridge. I guess it's just because in middle school, all but one of my friends were girls and then when I moved to high school I just continued the trend.

Honestly, I don't prefer male friends over female friends. I guess I just wish I could be able to communicate more successfully with all my female friends back home and still have all my new guys friends to communicate with here.

I'm rammbling.

Another thing is that all the new guy friends I have made here have all the same interests as me. I can sit and have an hour long conversation about a director and his best films and then the next hour we'll move on to another director and the trend goes on and on.

Back home I don't have a specific thing I talk about with my friends. We just chatter on ab out drama and how boring Auburn is (Northridge is worse) and all the things we did over the years.

Both are equally fun.

Are you bored yet?

I'm sorry.

I'll move on to the story that made me start thinking about this.

I was sitting in line with some friends for the premiere of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows part one (OH! As soon as I get a chance to go to the library I'm going to get the first book and start reading... I'll keep you updated) I ended up playing this weird card game with them were you can't refill your hand until your next turn. It. Drove. Me. Nuts.

Because of my OCD, I needed to refill my hand RIGHT AFTER I finished my turn, but I couldn't. So I would sit there and bounce, and swear, and ask people if they were done yet. They all thought I was hyper but in reality I was losing my mind.

Anyways. One of my new friends... Was just looking at me weird. Not getting it. I mean, she's as weird as I am but she just didn't get it. All my friends back home would have known that I can't concentrate on anything EXCEPT refilling my hand during a game like that.

Inside the theater they played twenty questions.

The same friend that didn't get it chose the person "Hobo" as the others guessed, another friend asked: "Would anyone here be considered the type of person you are talking about?" And she replied: Berlyn maybe. She said she was kidding but she inadvertantly called me a hobo. Maybe it was cause I asked her to buy popcorn, or drive her car, or used a free movie ticket to get my ticket. Regardless... It wasn't right and it was offensive.

Back home when I go to movies and ask my friends: "Hey, you should buy popcorn so I can eat some of it" they don't think, "God. berlyn's a hobo."

It's messed up. When I got home I laid in bed and thought about how I would have much rather seen the movie with my friends back home. How I missed them all because they would never really call me a hobo.

I told another friend here but I think he told the friend that called me a hobo because a few days later she had a small stuffed penguin as an "early christmas present". She knows something.

I mean, I know I'm not really one for "talking about my problems" but I do wish I had SOMEONE to talk to... Even if it was my mom. She listens pretty well.

AND KIM! I miss Kim so much. I can talk to Kim about pretty much anything and I don't feel like I'm being judged. She's very cool like that. I don't know if I'll be able to see Kim when I DO come up but I wish I could. I mean.... I'll probably cry like a baby but it will be good for me. I miss you Kimmy and I hope you are doing well....

The crying like a baby thing goes for pretty much anyone I do see... So... Prepare yourself.

SO in conclusion. I wish I could come home for the holidays. I WISH I could come home and see all my friends (mostly girls) and talk about my problems and cry with them and laugh with them. I want to come home and see everyone. Just for a little while so that I could refresh myself before I come back here.

Don't get me wrong. I don't feel this way about all the friends I have here. Just a few.

Anyways. I think I'm going to call this good and try to do something productive today. Maybe I'll work out and read inglorious basterds. Or go shopping for food.

Food would be nice.

I love you all.

Old Friends And New Friends :)

-Berlyn :)

I'm thankful for YOU. Yes, you.

Luke Danes: Shouldn't we give thanks first?
Jess Mariano: Thanks for what?
Luke Danes: Well, that we're not Native Americans who got their land stolen in exchange for smallpox infested blankets.

Lorelai Gilmore: Amen.

Thank you, Gilmore Girls, for your wonderful view on Thanksgiving.

When you think about it, though, that's what Thanksgiving is for the most part. Most people prepare for the Thanksgiving meal for hours (or even days), have family over, go around the table and name a few things they're thankful for, share a few laughs, eat a ton of food, and then go shopping at 4 am the next morning.

While I usually thank people multiple times when they do anything for me, I don't feel as though I come off as thankful often enough. And though I'm more aware of the positive and happy things that I'm thankful for, I am also thankful for my struggles and experiences that seem terrible at the time. Because they make me a better and stronger person.

But I'm not going to talk about the latter. I'm going to list some positive things I'm thankful for.

Caffeine.

Brand New.

My acceptable writing ability.

Sand.

Family.

Gilmore Girls.

90210.

Summer.

Snow.

Mascara.

Converse.

Blankets.

Elliott Smith.

California.

Rilo Kiley.

Hot cocoa.

Crafts to occupy me when I'm stressed.

The Fall of Troy.

Coffee.

Animals.

Berlyn.

Sun.

Secret Life.

Crisp air.

Apples.

Music.

Headbands.

Friends.

People who give me the opportunity to listen to them.

Organization.

The Sims.

Movie nights.

Learning and college.

Sour Patch Kids.

Understanding people.

Hugs.

Jesus.

Authors who write amazing books for me to read.

Surprises.

Kisses.

Hoodies.

My morals.

Jogging.

Socks.

Tights.

Shelter.

Swingsets.

Diet Coke.

The way I was brought up.

Water.

Times when I can relax.

Journals.

Laughing.

...Just to name a few.

And these are just the simple things.

Writing all of those down makes me feel happier, too. There's just something about acknowledging positivity that boosts your spirit.

Besides focusing on what I'm thankful for, Thanksgiving also makes way for.... BLACK FRIDAY.

Yes, I am one of those insane people who lines up at the crack of dawn to get a free snowglobe and a handful of deals for Christmas presents. With my mommy. It's absolutely chaotic but I actually really enjoy it (most of the time. When I'm not super antsy about huge crowds and manic mothers) because of the excitement level.

However, I definitely would NOT want to be a retail employee on Black Friday (sorry, Alice!). I think I would probably have a constant panic attack until I got trampled by an caffeine-crazed, doorbuster-fueled mob of customers.

Kind of weird how all that insanity is linked with Thanksgiving and Christmas, huh?

Well anyway, I'm kind of freaked out by all the sirens that just started and people are making me antsy (like how I'll be on Black Friday!) so I think I'm going to make this a short one and let you go. I'll write you a novel in two weeks, kay?

Let me know if any of you guys have fun or interesting Thanksgiving traditions, and also let me know what you're thankful for!

I'm thankful for all of you, loves.

Have a fantastic Thanksgiving.

-Kimber

P.S. I'm also thankful for this picture and the giggles it caused me.

Seriously guys!

I want to confess something to you all.

I've kept this a secret for a very long time and I want to come clean about it.

I'm black.

Now, I know you are all thinking:

"Berlyn, even though you may think you are black inside you are genetically white."

Well you're wrong. I was born black. Just like Michael Jackson.

Think about it.

Why do you all think I moved to Auburn in the seventh grade? Do you think it's because we needed a bigger house? Because you would be wrong. It's because my skin turned turned white and I got made fun of, so we moved.

Now you're all probably thinking:

"Fine, prove it. What disease did you have?"

Well, friends, I have a disease called Vitiligo where your skin becomes lighter in patches on your body. Look it up, it exists.

Go here: (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vitiligo)

Vitilgo affects many different parts of the body.

The hands, face, back, chest, stomach, feet and more. There are different levels of Vitiligo, I have Universal Vitiligo. This means that large portions of my body suffer from depigmantation.

Anyways. To cover the blotches, so I look normal, I wear a lot of make up, so my skin looks even lighter.

Now, some of you are probably thinking:

"I've met your mother. She's white. You're Biological brother is white. Your sisters are white. Your dad is white!"

This is the second part of my secret:

I'm adopted.

My biological mother and father are black, my biological grandmother suffered from the same disease as me. It skipped my parent's generation.

You see. I'm black, I just have white skin.

.....

Okay did I convince any of you? Come on be truthful. Tell me in the comments if I convinced you that I was black for even a milisecond.

Okay.

So I have decided to focus this blog on tricking people into thinking you are a different ethnicity than you actually are.

For those of you that were not convinced by my story... You have to find the right people or you have to be the most convincing person in the world.

This has worked for me before.

I did some inception on my newspaper friend Shayla like a ninja.

One week I mentioned to her that I was actually black and not white and that my mother was black and she could see for herself.

I laughed and thought she realized my joke.

However, a few weeks later she turns to me and asks:

"Hey are you really black?"

I laughed so hard. It was perfect. So it does work.

So I've split this blog into two parts. I don't mean to make this racist (See, I can't be racist, I can't even spell it) or anything it's just a different process for different skin colors.

So. To be as politically incorrect as possible:

WHITE PEOPLE ONLY

So.

There are two diseases (that I have found) that will work for this type of lie.

First is Vitiligo

Vitilgo (like I described above) is a genetic disorder that affects the pigment of the skin. It, often times, makes skin lighter.

It's more rare to see it effect the body in large portions, for the most part it affects the body in small sections like these hands.

Moving on, there is no cure for this disease but it does make you very sensitive to light.

They have some proceedures that may help but I'm not here to talk about success stories.

One notable person with this affliction is Michael Jackson (but I'm pretty sure he bleached his skin).

SO. To convince people you have Vitiligo you need the facts.

Do they know your parents? If they do make it seem like you have something very important to tell them and start with adoption. And then go into the fact that your parents are black. At first they won't believe you but you should start explaining that you have Universal Vitiligo meaning that most of your skin has changed pigments, though there are a few places with black blotches. When they ask to see just explain to them that the blotches are on your ass, breasts, or junk and you don't feel comfortable showing them.

Then throw facts at them. Seriously, go on Wikipedia, get some facts and attack.

Second is Albinism

Albinism is one of those disease that your are born with for no apparent reason. This disease makes the skin, eyes, and hair pigment lighter.

It makes the skin more sensitive to sunlight than normal skin.

There are different types of Albinism; one that affects hair, eyes, and skin and one that only effects the eyes.

It's mostly sex-linked so it mostly effects men, but there are cases of it effecting girls.

Albinism comes from genetics or mutations in DNA.

People of any race can be effected. Approximatly 1 in every 20,000 people have ablinism.

Animals are effected by Albinism as well.

Now, to convince people that you are albino is far more difficult than telling them your skin started changing color.

So. Now you don't have to convince people that you are adopted. Now you just have to convince them you were born this way.

You could lie about your hair and say that you died it or something.

The eyes are harder. You could attempt telling people you are special and were born with dark eyes but it's unlikly... So sell it.

SO.... Next Section:

DARK-SKINNED PEOPLE ONLY!!

This is way harder.

First of all. Did you know that pregnancy can make your skin darker? I didn't... I thought it was interesting. Though probably something you don't want to use as an explaination.

Ex: "I'm actually white."

"You're white?"

"Yeah. My pregnancy just made my skin darker."

"Wait... You're pregnant?!"

So.

First, the more unlikly, is Cyanosis.

Now, I say this is unlikly because it only changes skin color because the color of the blood.

So. This will probably work for those of you who are not that dark skinned but still darker than me.

This is common in heart problems. The blood either doesn't have enough activity or is not the color blue but a purple color instead.

(Blood is blue until it hits air people...)

SO in reality it makes you appear more blue or purple than dark.

So to convince people that you have this you would need to look up more information on heart conditions.

Or lie.

I would take the ide

a of the disease and say: I was born with a heart condition that makes my blood darker so it makes my skin appear darker, but my whole family is white. Weird huh?

I think it would work. Try it.

The second is: Hyperpigmentation

This is mostly cause from sun damage.

Which is why it is so lame.

I'm sure you can convince people that it was a birth defect.

It effects the face mostly but it also effects different parts of the body like the back, chest, hands, and more.

This is caused when the pigment Melanin begins to produce more color than needed because of a signal in the body telling it to do so (like the sun setting off a signal in your body that makes skin gradually darker).

Vitamin D also sets off the Melanin as well.

Anyways. To convince people you are white but your skin turned darker. You'll have to have a background story. So you start with something along the lines of: I started in point A but move to point B when my skin began to change darker. When people ask why talk about the DNA defect that was triggered by hanging out in the sun for too long.

Too much vitamin D you know?

Now back to being politically correct:

FOR EVERYONE OF ALL COLORS!!!

Anyways I just thought you all would enjoy to learn how to fool your friends into thinking that you are something you are not. I may just try it on all my new college buddies next time I go hang out with them all.

You should all try it and tell me your stories, the reactions you get. Comment?

Happy trickeries :)

- Berlyn

P.S. I was going to write more but I decided that I would only write about one thing that was on my mind this week.

I was going to go off into a rant about random things I remember. Like I remember scraching my step dad's car with the fake rose and blaming it on my brother (he got in so much trouble) when I was like seven... I also remember that when Daniel Radcliff got the news about being cast as harry potter he was in the bathtub.... I have no idea why I remember this stuff.

P.P.S. I love you all.