polar opposites.

in case you wanted to know about obama's faith: this interview took place BEFORE all the hoopla. (back in two thousand and four!)

AND, if you want to read why barack obama as the next president is NOT of the will of God, check it out.

[isn't that entertaining?]

tangible help needed.

he might be embarrassed that i'm posting this on my blog, but the house my friend nick (aka davis) was living in burned down in the fire last week. he made a list of things he lost and i have a feeling some of you might be able to help. contact me to get his address.

refrigerators were meant for couples.

i had a moment of sadness when i was at my dad's last weekend. his refrigerator had an individual photo of all my brothers, with their wives. and it had a photo of my step-mom's nieces and their husbands. and that was it. i didn't make the cut. well, i take that back. i did make the cut: i was nine years old and with my brother [daniel] who is eighteen months older than me. we were children.

now, this is no slam against my dad and step-mom. this is just the nature of their refrigerator photos. the message that was sent to me was "you don't make the fridge unless you are married or coupled, with someone. anyone."

and of course my dad said to me, "i've been bugging you to send me an updated photo for months!"

and to that i say: how embarrassing. send you a photo of me, by myself? i mean, i guess it would make sense if it were me as a missionary, asking for money and prayer. or me, traveling in china, standing on the great wall. or a seventeen year old senior in high school. but i'm none of those.

so i am a mystery to those who walk through my dad's kitchen and wonder to themselves, "i thought he had four kids?" and all because i refuse to send a photo of me, by myself. i've just always thought pictures of people by themselves are ridiculous. 

am i alone on this?

full disclosure: i regret my tattoo.

my family must be rejoicing with a title like that. it's absolutely true, i one hundred percent regret intentionally sticking a needle filled with ink into my body. and i am totally resorting to outting myself on my own blog instead of calling each and everyone of you and saying "you were right. i was wrong."

some of you probably had no idea i even HAVE a tattoo. well, i do. it's on my left hand, between my thumb and my pointer finger. ya know, in that little area that is hide-able if you bring your thumb close to your fingers. i used to write reminders there all the time, including the bible verse, john three:thirty. so i wrote it there and went into a shop in the haight and made it permanent. on my birthday, five years ago.

why did i do it? well, i wanted to be reminded of that verse. i wanted to be rebellious. and i wanted to do something unexpected of me. 

i got all that. and i got awkward encounters in professional situations. or people asking, "who's john?" 

but the reason i regret it the most? because it doesn't serve its purpose: i don't see it anymore. it has become like a freckle on my skin. it doesn't serve as a reminder unless someone else asks about it. it's useless.

so. there. i said it. i wish i didn't make a decision to get a tattoo on my nineteenth birthday. HELL! my prefrontal cortex wasn't even fully developed. again, what was i thinking?!

westmont men's soccer on the front of la times sports section.

reading this article made me so proud.

it was especially cute when my grandpa called me at six am this morning to tell me about the article and how it made him cry. 

let's save some money. part two.

last week when i told you about how i've managed to save one hundred and eighty six dollars by shaving with water, anna left me a comment saying her husband, kiah, would recommend i read "smart women finish rich." i immediately looked on amazon dot com, put it in my shopping cart and ALMOST clicked buy. then i remembered that i was TRYING to save money. so i walked myself to the usf library and searched for it. they didn't have it. but i knew they could get it for me. FOR FREE. and that they did. it arrived friday and i got a friendly message asking me to come get my FREE book. 

so here's to utilizing the library more. i always knew you were there, i've just been neglecting you. forgive me?

money i'll save: fifteen dollars by not purchasing this book and at least one hundred and fifty dollars by renting my school books for the spring semester (if i want to keep one of them, i'll buy it after i know for sure that it's a keeper). totally worth it.

who celebrates thanksgiving two weeks early?

well, i do. along with twentyfive members of my family. not even kidding.

why? well, let me explain. efrem turned ninety so grandma and grandpa flew in from kauai, which was an excuse in itself for all of us to get together. and the original plan was to have a legitimate thanksgiving feast but then somebody (who will remain nameless, MOM) decided we needed to go to the law firm and work work work so turkey turned into pizza which turned into chinese food. but really, is thanksgiving even about the turkey? nah. it's about the people, duh. and i guess it was sort of a christmas celebration too, because we had a gift exchange. what the hell, why not.

i'm not sure i could ever fully explain my family. it's another one of those things you have to experience to understand (like the westmont community). EVERYONE says their family is crazy, but really, mine ACTUALLY is crazy. (just ask kristy, sarah, dan or dillon) here are a few events that might make your jaw drop.

-my brother pantsed my uncle. and his step daughter might have seen. his son responded, "don't worry nikki, they're not all that small."

-my aunt got her face drawn on, like a pirate (she might have been intoxicated, it's unclear).

-my other uncle pantsed my uncle, again.

-poker. poker. poker. my aunt won showdown on a flush. i couldn't believe it.

-my three aunts and i hid from everyone in the pantry closet that measures two by three. they found us. damn.

-we went on a morning hike and everyone had different interpretations of growing up. my mom thinks she took care of all the kids and my aunts and uncle think she's crazy. i think they're both right. 

-we tried to get my grandma to stop reading and play the game. she wouldn't so my uncle tried to take away her book. so she bit him and somehow there was blood drawn.

-my cousin has carpal tunnel in his thumbs from texting so much. and he got mad when we took his phone away. "it's for your own benefit- we're trying to save your thumbs!" he didn't like that response.

-in the middle of the gift exchange there was this weird groaning sound. i looked up to see my grandpa getting his bald head and hairy back scratched. he was so happy. dork.

so, we are REALLY dysfunctional... and I WOULDN'T TRADE THEM FOR THE WORLD. they are the best thing that's ever happened to me. our dysfunction has taught me more about life and how to live it than any thing else. and in the spirit of early chinese-should-have-been-pizza-thanksgiving-dinner-slash-weekend, i am so thankful for them. each and every one of them.

most of us, looking semi-functional:

from beauty to ashes. literally.

how do you describe the community of westmont to someone who wasn't a student there? i really don't think it's explainable. when i try, i get the same odd looks that i do when i tell people i live in a house with westmont alums AND WE SHARE ROOMS-- "why in the world would you share a room WHEN THERE IS AN EXTRA ROOM IN THE HOUSE? aren't you out of college?" they sort of freak out. yes, it's strange, i know. but people who went to westmont seem to understand, so it can't be that odd? right? right. it's all about the westmont culture.

westmont is hurting right now; there's lost buildings and dorm rooms and faculty houses. no one is physically hurt but the loss is huge. two of my most favorite friends in the whole world have lost their homes. "i lost my journals... i lost my photos from growing up." sarah said to me. she doesn't care about the clothes or the furniture or the building itself. it's the memories that can't be re-made. the words on that journal that tell who she was at fifteen. gone. and kristy said "you could see my mom's china in the ashes." my heart melted. i try to imagine what their houses looked like and the things they've worked all their lives for. gone. i try to be optimistic when i call them. all i can do is pray. sarah made me laugh, "i guess there's good news: for the first time ever, we won't have to ask ourselves what to get our parents for christmas. we can go into any store and buy them anything. cause we know they won't have it."

my heart is heavy. 

no, this is breaking news.

the college i went to is on/surrounded by fire.

all the students are safe in the gym.

 

this is breaking news?

PLEASE. 

what do they put on the banner when there ACTUALLY is breaking news?