And now your day is better because of those gorgeous blue eyes and half-smile.

You're welcome.

Buy them for me.

/Girlpost

NEW GIRL is a TERRIBLE show.

It's like The Big Bang Theory and a bad romantic comedy put together.

The show's premise is that quirky, awkward, "nerdy" Jess (played by very-pretty-girl Zooey Deschannel) breaks up with her boyfriend after he cheats on her, and has to move in with three guys into a new apartment. Being a quirky, awkward nerdy girl who's been constantly surrounded by an entourage of 3-4  guys for the past 9 years, I was appalled at the terrible portrayal of Jess. My first thought was "... WTF!? That's not 'being a nerd'! That's just being plain dumb!" Also, all of the guys seemed like douchebags. I decided I would watch the pilot because I wanted to be able to say "this is a terrible show" based on something more than just a trailer. I hated the pilot. I hated every single character. But, I tweeted about it, and Ludwig Göransson (composer for that show and COMMUNITY) told me to give it another chance, so I did.

I remember disliking the COMMUNITY pilot, giving the show another chance only because sjenhasnopants said she would (and I thought "hey, why the hell not?"). The second episode was slightly better, and decided to keep watching after hearing my friend Jorge's maniacal laughter while watching the pilot and Spanish 101. I thought I could give "New Girl" the benefit of the doubt and see what this episode had to offer. The answer? NOTHING NEW. It's the same asshole male characters, stupid girl and unfunny jokes from episode one. I am seriously amazed at how horrible every single character is. Was their intention to make Jess seem like a helpless victim at all times? The only thing that made me smile was the use of Blind Melon's "No Rain," but I always smile whenever I hear that song.

Bad TV that perpetuates terrible stereotypes. UGH! D:<

Sitcoms, a motherfucking serious business.

I watched Almost Live! Last night. I’d been trying to catch it ever since I got to Vancouver. I was very excited when I saw Joel in there. My room mate even said “oh look! It’s your boyfriend!”

It was an episode from 1995. Joel was 23 around that time. I’m 24 now. I know that being on a sketch-comedy show on a local network is not huge but… it made me realize how far I am from the place I want to be, and that I’m old.

For years I kept telling myself “oh, it’s alright, I’m young, I’ve got time.” When was it that I got this close to being a quarter of a century old?

I remember being like, 10 and thinking “I don’t want to be an old mom like mine*, I want to marry when I’m 25.” I can’t even get guys to stop
thinking I’m one of the boys.

I don’t think many people know how seriously I’d like to pursue acting. It may be due to the fact that I’m actually studying animation
and not acting. But… yeah… I just like performing and making people laugh**.

Stupid sighs.

I promise I'll try to update this more often. There's a lot I've been meaning to talk about.

* she had me when she was 32

** some people in my class have told me I should try doing stand-up, BTW.

So I've been in Vancouver for almost a month now. I'm pretty much all settled, just missing a couple of posters or something to decorate the bare walls in my bedroom, and the Mexican souvenirs I had my mom send me.
It's been great, for the most part, although the past two weeks at school (I can't believe it's only been two weeks... it's so intense I feel I've been there for two months) have made me realize just how insecure I am. It's kind of very ridiculous, actually. Before, I was insecure about my looks, but I always had my semi-intellectual persona, and pseudo-talent, but here, I feel like I'm just mediocre at everything (except having large breasts, I'm still pretty good at that... and apparently I've become something like the class clown? People say I tell the best stories an that I'm very funny... that's good I guess...). I've been feeling pretty crappy and stressed about that. I came here with the best intention at heart of being humble, trying to just LEARN, and not try to prove to everyone how much better than them I am, but there's some things and people who have kept me from being happier.

Tonight, however, as I walked back home with Andrew, one of my classmates and possible friend (I don't know if you know, but I have trouble accepting people as "close to me"), I was able to find a way to fight these anxieties I keep getting. See, there's this Italian guy in my class named Stefano who's a bit of a huge snob (there's another asshole, but I've learned to ignore him). He actually kind of reminds me of myself two years ago: Always trying to prove everyone else wrong and inferior to me... but in over-drive! He actually went as far as saying the following once: "That is the only hot girl in school... no ofense," in front of me, as I ate a cup-cake the other girl in our friend-group got me for my birthday (not on my birthday, tho). He dismisses everything every teacher says (all of whom, by the way, have either worked or are working in the industry), and gives unsolicited critique at all times, and it's not even constructive. He will make comments such as "The rough is better" and leave, or "it only looks better because the teacher told you how to fix it." Granted, the last one was a "joke," but it's still a pretty shitty thing to say.
I think that what makes me so uncomfortable about him, is that he makes me question everything about myself. "Is my art good enough?" "Am I good-looking enough?" "Am I smart enough?" Because, well, you know I'm a huge perfectionist, and I hate looking less-than-perfect in the eyes of... anyone. Although seeing him argue with everyone over every single little thing (such as whether if not his shirt could create a moiré pattern on a TV screen during a Character Design class), I'm slowly starting to just ignore 80% of what comes out of his mouth (the fact that he has a thick accent and his English is pretty shitty is convenient for that purpose).
Anyway, the talk I had with Andrew tonight pretty much opened my eyes to the fact that this dude is in no way better than me. He's just worse at trying to be humble and actually ALLOW other people to teach him. I'm not denying that some of his art is really cool, but his insistence on not using a dope sheet while he animates, shading and detailing everything on every assignment, not doing rougher work, might come back to bite him in the blubber. I'm not trying to talk shit about him, but it was nice to know that the person who has been challenging me in very unhealthy ways doesn't really have a right to do so, and that the path I've been following (staying humble and trying to learn as much as posible without burning myself out) is the right thing to do.

Anyway, that's it for the night. I'm going to bed, and back to school tomorrow to keep working and try to finish my homework.

Thanks to everyone who's been leaving supportiing messages. I'm really sorry my posts have been such downers, but you know... homesickness... Today I kinda feel like I wanna go back home, tho the idea of having to get on a plane again is such a drag that I just go "meh, let's go see the Capilano Suspension Brigde today."

Thursday was shit. I think it's mostly because I didn't get to do everything I wanted to. Not being able to get to Granville Island on my own really bummed me out for some reason. And then the day got worse. After that emo entry I posted, I went back to the hotel, and saw on twitter that a Casino back in my hometown had been attacked. By the time I learned about it, 8 people had died. I took a nap, read my timeline again, and saw that the reported number of victims had risen to 20. I left to the movies with some people from school, since some of them had won tickets for an advanced screening of "Don't be Afraid of the Dark," and I managed to talk one of the guys into taking me with him. The movie was ok, I'd already forgotten about my shitty mood. But then, one of the girls started saying she wanted to get drunk and stoned because she was scared. I thought "ok, we'll go to her place, and once they start smoking, I'll leave, no biggie."
Where I come from, if you wanna do drugs, you do it in private. In the safety of your home, or in a corner at a club, or hiding in a park. You don't smoke out in the open at 9:00 pm offering joints at the people you're with while walking down a main street. You'll get arrested and probably killed (unless the cops who get you are on the side of the guys you bought your drugs from).
I was very uncomfortable. I didn't even get to her place. I just turned around and left. And let me say that I was terrified of walking on my own at night. Even as I saw that there were families having dinner at the restaurants or taking a stroll. I think it's PTSD or something. I'm just terrified most of the times, and feel like someone's gonna come and grab me.
When I got to the hotel room, I checked my timeline again. The official death toll had risen to 53 (the article I linked to says 52, but most of my sources claim 53). I cried.
I thought about that girl smoking pot. So carefree, giggling as she shared joints. Oblivious to the pain and suffering of countries that once thought it would be great business to enable first-world countries and feed their hedonistic habits. I will give her the benefit of the doubt and assume her pot came from a local plantation. But still. In my mind, I can't disasociate doing drugs with murder.

Yesterday was a lot better. I decided to "fuck it all" and went for comfort foods throughout the day. I bought a souvlaki and ate it while walking, then visited the Gay District (which disappointed me greatly... it was very unfabulous), made my way up to the English Bay, recollected a couple of sea-shells, and then went down the sea-walk to Sunset Beach, where I took a ferry to Granville Island, where I had the most delicious ice cream, and a great deal on a pair of red rain boots. I took a ferry back to the mainland and went back to the hotel. After resting for a couple of minutes, I went out for some pizza (pizza Friday!!). Yesterday was cool. Oh oh, and I found this place that offers improv workshops on Saturdays. I think I'll start going once I'm all settled in my apartment.

Today, I saw the Will & Grace episode where Joel McHale makes a brief appearance as Grace's new boyfriend. I'll be going to the Capilano Suspension Brige and then to Stanley Park, for a sketch-party with some of my future classmates. My only concern right now is that I'm kind of dizzy and probably coming down with a cold :(

Again, thanks for all the support, and I hope to keep having fun.

I'm feeling homesick today. I wanna go home, but home is far, far away. I want to lie on my bed and sleep with the AC on while I cover myself with two duvets.

I was planning on walking around Granville Island today, visit a shopping district on Davie St., then walk up to English Bay, and finish at the movies to see a screening of Don't Be Afraid of the Dark. I couldn't manage to get to Granville Island. Apparently, you can't get there walking. I ended up not going to Davie St. nor the English Bay either because I really had to pee. On my way back to the hotel tho, I went into this thrift store and bought the brooch and earrings I needed for that semi-formal event thing I have on the 12th, so now I have no reason to visit the shopping district on Davie St.

I'm tired. I don't feel like going out or doing stuff, much less with other people. A guy sent a massive text saying they were sand-sculpting at the beach, and that they'd go for dinner afterwards and then to the movies. I would normally say "YAY!! SAND SCULPTING!!" But it just feels like so much of a chore... I want to be left alone for the day. Just draw and maybe read. But I keep seeing this miniature image of my grandma and my cousin on my shoulders saying "pfft, you should be out there exploring!!" (they always judged me for my lack of adventurous spirit and laziness).

On Tuesday, during orientation day (part 2), we were told that normally, people who feel homesick isolate themselves. I guess that's what I'm doing. I don't want to be around people today (but I'm not gonna waste a free ticket to a screening of a movie I wanna see).

Also, I'm tired of my accent. I hate mispronouncing everything and not being able to communicate.

Today has been one of those days in which I feel like I'm just not ____ enough. Not pretty enough, not special enough, not thin enough, not interesting enough, not smart enough, not talented enough, you name it. I feel like I'm not THAT enough.


It's been sunny ever since I got to Vancouver, so I decided to profit from that and walk around and see as much as I could. I didn't expect this to happen, but I got sunburnt. So my face now is kind of peeling off. My skin looks terrible, and I feel I have the appearance of a 30-year-old woman (which I wouldn' say is "old," but I'm 23... almost 24).


A girl who once did a palm-reading of my hand (she just grabbed my hand and read my lines, I wasn't asking for it) said I was a bit vain (in the sense that I worry about my appearance). It's not a lie that I care about how I look, and that I worry about my shoes being the right kind for the attire I'm wearing, but that's because I constantly feel judged by other people. I feel like I need to look good, to look better than the average, because I want to be noticed in a good way.


I went shopping today because I need gumboots and a raincoat. I ended up buying a denim blouse which looks kind of ok on me. But it was a size 10. I normally go for those sizes because of my boobs, but I was terrified to see that it wasn't all that lose around my waist (wasn't tight either). My boobs tho... they barely fit. I'll have to wear one of my minimizing bras. I hate how large my breasts are. They're annoying when purchasing clothes. I feel skanky when I wear stuff with cleavage. They make me feel like I'm a giant, and that I'm bothering everyone with them.


Yesterday was orientation day at VFS. I met most of my classmates. Suprise, surprise: Three of us in the Classical Animation program are from Mexico!! I didn't talk too much with them tho. I met this guy who really gets my sarcasm and likes COMMUNITY, so that was fun. Today, however, on the second part of orientation day, I didn't feel as comfortable as yesterday. I managed to talk to some people in the Acting programs, we actually went out for lunch. One of the girls was so pretty, and the other one really upbeat. I felt like an old lady. AGAIN.
And fat.
And ugly.


I want to act, but I keep thinking "I don't look or behave like an actress."


I want to be my class rep to be invited to dinners with other class reps and meet more people.


I purchased a ticket for a semi-formal VFS event, and I know what to wear, but I don't have the right accessories. I don't know where to buy them, and I don't want to spend more money. This fashion-hunt made me realize that I left a pair of beautiful shoes back home... I'll have my mom send them to me along with my books and my Mexican stuff. I need a haircut. And make up.


I guess I'm just at that point where I wish I already had a steady place to live, start a routine, and maybe get a boyfriend. Or maybe I'm just PMSing. I'll need to check my calendar.


There's a really cute guy sitting behind me. I wanna say hi. But we're at a library, and I think that would be awkward.



Girl problems. I miss my home.

I arrived on Sunday.


I don't have a computer, so I've been relying on cellphone internet, and the library.



Will tell you more once I have a computer (which will be around September 1-4)

"But, why is 'Bullying' trending right now? There's been bullies and bullied kids since... always" - my classmate, Ara

I tend to ask this question A LOT. Partly because I was a bullied child myself, and I turned out mostly alright. A lot of bullied kids have turned out alright. But mostly because I'm jealous that bullied kids today are no longer alone in their struggle.

Growing up, I didn't even know what was happening around me. I just thought I was being teased. But it was constant, at times cruel, at times gratifying, mostly because those were the times they spoke to me. Nobody ever beat me up (I am, after all, a girl), but I was isolated from every class-group I was in for most of my childhood. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't tell the teachers, because then I'd be a snitch and even more hated. I couldn't stand up for myself, because nobody cared about what I had to say. I asked my mom over and over to please let me change schools, because I had no friends and I was unhappy, but she refused, because I had a scholarship, and French classes (you know, academic knowledge > emotional stability). The fact that, at the time, my mom was prone to having anxiety attacks and wouldn't let me go out and play with other kids, or set me up on play-dates didn't help either. All I could do was try to be awesome and hope they'd want to be my friend eventually. But apparently, they didn't like it either.

I've told a lot of people I know in real life that I have "childhood traumas" because "I didn't have any friends growing up," and that "my childhood wasn't happy" (honestly, I think my best memories are the things I used to watch on TV), but I always say that in a bit of joking tone. Those who care enough to ask "but, why not?" get the same answer "I don't know." Up to this date, I can't find a genuine reason that made it uncool to be seen with me for all of elementary school, and most of Jr. High.
There was this one time I saw a girl I'd been hanging out with crying at the back of the classroom. I approached her and asked her why she was sad. She replied "It's because ever since I started hanging out with you, nobody wants to be with me anymore." There was also this other time when a girl said she no longer wanted to be my friend because I was a tomboy (I think she meant lesbian, actually). There were also the many, many times I was called that. There was my 11th birthday, when I was having lunch alone, and a girl walked up to me and said that if I wanted to have any friends, I needed to stop watching cartoons and be more mature. There were those times when people threw spit-balls at me and chanted "out with Julieta." There were all the girls who would only hang out with me during recess whenever they would get into fights with their friends, but let me on my own whenever they made up. There were many more things.

About eight years ago, I was just starting highschool, and I felt proud of myself because I finally had a bunch of friends who liked me for who I was, both there and at the comic workshop I was a part of. Not only that, people at school wanted to meet and include me in their groups, despite my fashion crimes, and, the guy I liked, liked me back. I felt ok. One day, I was waiting for a friend at a mall, and I saw from afar a girl that could be no other than Barbara, my third-grade bully. I remember getting a feeling of fear and anxiety and the need to cry build-up from the moment I saw her, until I was sure it was indeed her. I hid inside a store, and waited for her to leave. For years before that encounter, I'd dreamed of meeting her and saying "Fuck you, I'm awesome," and having something to back that up. But the moment I saw her that day, I regressed to being that insecure little girl whose only friends were the kids on TV and her teachers.

For many years, what motivated me to become successful was the idea of revenge. Revenge on all those boring, unimaginative, talentless, motherfuckers. I hate them all SO MUCH. I'd think that one day I'd come back and I'd tell them all "FUCK YOU, I'M RICH AND FAMOUS!!" I remember one day deciding I'd be a comic artist because I liked drawing and enjoyed the idea of being recognized by people, and having fans and people who liked me. It's really pathetic, but that's what pushed me from age 14 until about two years ago.
I'm glad I've finally matured. I try to not think of them. I'm friends with most of them on facebook, but I can't stand to look through their pictures or anything without feeling rage, or guilt at the happiness I feel from seeing them having grown fat and ugly. The more I ignore them, the better I feel. Now I only want to work in whatever makes me happy. My goal in life is to have fun and enjoy myself. But I still hate them. I guess all I want is for them to apologize, but I don't even think they were even aware of how much they were hurting me.

The reason I'm typing all of this is because today I ran into another one of those girls at the gym today. I'm not sure she recognized me, but I felt like a huge loser when I saw her. Once again, I reverted to my insecure-self. The one that feels fat and gross, and forgets she has the same fucking measurements as Sofía Vergara; the one that thinks is a failure, despite having a published book and graduating as first of her class; the one who feels lame and uninteresting, despite having been praised for her comedic timing by drama teachers and Joe fucking Murray. I wanted to run away again today but I was on a threadmill, so I got nowhere *rimshot*

I feel like I could really use some ego-stroking. The same thing I talked somedays ago that you shouldn't expect. I think most arstists end up doing creative stuff because we need to be validated by people other than our family members or friends. I got into drawing because it was something I could do on my own that didn't require me to go out there and face being rejected by everybody all the time.
Almost quoting Homer Simpson when Bart asks him what it is like to be famous "It's great, they al know me, but I don't know them." (I know the quote in Spanish, I  haven't seen much of the Simpsons in English). We just want to be loved by people who don't HAVE to love us.