I woke up today and saw a dinosaur in my room.

His name was Vinny. I asked him if that was short for Vincent or Vincenzo. It turns out his name was Vincezno and he was Italian. I woke up this morning and saw an Italian dinosaur in my room. What would you do if you had a guido dinosaur in your room? Well, I did the only thing I could think of; I asked him if he wanted to eat breakfast. Things turned out better than I expected because he knew how to cook, which i guess shouldn't have been too surprising since he was Italian. There's nothing better than eating eggs with a guido dinosaur. After breakfast, I asked my guest what his plans for the day were and unsurprisingly he said GTL. Well, I could use a tan and a good workout never harmed anyone, so I joined him today. I should've known a dinosaur could last in the gym for 4 hours without hardly breaking a sweat while I died, came back to life, and died again. But I guess if I want to have abs like Vinny, I shouldn't complain (or maybe those are his scales?). Afterwards, we went down to the beach to work on our tans. If I thought I couldn't get a tan, Vinny embarks on an impossible mission every beach trip. His scales get browned, but they fall of anyway! After an unsuccessful tanning expedition, my guido dino and I go eat at In N' Out. you'd think no one's ever seen a dinosaur the way the people kept starring at him. Iwas embarrassed for my human race! Or maybe they were staring at the fact that Vinny ate 4 4x4s and 3 orders of animal fries! I mean, I know Italians like to eat, but still! We went home after we ate because I was extremely tired after our gym session. Vinny was revved up to go partying but I was forced to sit this one out. He promised he'd be there when i woke up. Well, I'm awake now, but Vinny's not here...nor is there a sign that he ever was. Did i dream it all? Or was it just a typical guy? Who knows..

Cooking for Family

If I had to cook for my family, I would make something small because I know they wouldn't eat it. I can't blame them, though, since I don't know how to cook. I can't even make a grilled cheese, and no that is not an exageration. If I was forced to cook, though, I'd make a chocolate cake because I love chocolate. When I was younger, I used to love to bake and my mom even bought me my own Easy-Bake Oven so that I could bake anytime I wanted. Cute, right? Well, somehow I outgrew that phase quite quickly and now I hardly set foot in the kitchen. Yet, I still remember how much fun I had baking with my mom. After she'd mix all the ingredients she would let me lick the spoon and bowl, which always caused me to have a stomach later. I'd tentatively watch as she would carefully place the dish in the hot oven and then dutifully stand guard on front of the clock until it was time to take it out. The kitchen would soon smell like whatever it was that we were baking; the sweet intoxicating smell of chocolate, the bittersweet aroma of strawberry, or the mellow scent of lemon. The air smelled good enough to eat! When the timer finally dinged, I'd practically salivate as my mom placed the dessert on the counter for it to cool. She always made sure I received the first taste and if my judgement was any less than perfect, she'd hesitate to serve it to anyone else. Truthfully, this happened often because I don't like sweet food very much and I would almost always say "I don't like it." Go figure why she kept on asking me. But, back to my chocolate cake. since I'm baking it for my family, I'd have to do it alone. I'm not sure if the batter would would turn out as sweet as when i baked with my mom, but I'd try my best. I would throw all the ingredients in the bowl and beat them together, but I wouldn't lick the spoon or the bowl. Why should I? I'd try my very hardest not to get burned when I put it in the oven and I'd go into the living room to wait until it's done. I won't be too worried if it burns. I mean, I'm not going to eat it. I probably won't notice when the house is warm with the sweet aroma emanating from the oven because my mind won't even be on that. When I hear the timer ring, I'd get up, take it out, and leave it on the counter. if anyone wants to eat it, they're more than welcome. As for me, I did what i had to do; I cooked and that's that.

When I was Brave

For most people, brave moments include courageous acts of killing a spider, standing up to a bully, or facing the simple fear of the dark. However, for me, I had to sum up tremendous amounts of courage to face myself, my lies, my past, and my life. For years I repressed certain events and feelings that had tremendous impacts on me. Instead, I fooled myself into believing my life was exceptionally perfect. I refused to even think that my life was any different or any less than perfect. If I ever began to doubt myself, I instantly found a way to distract myself from whatever was bothering me. I was too scared of what was lurking in the darkest corners of my mind. Recently, however, I forced myself to face my fear of myself. I let out every lie I had told myself and the world and accepted that I'm not perfect. Yes, perhaps I did get scared and tried to run away again, but the point is, I was brave. I did face my fears and did what I once thought was impossible. I am by no means saying I'm Wonder Woman, but I got past too many things to refuse being proud of myself. I looked down that dark alley and I finally got the courage to walk through it. When you go down a path like that, it's hard to go back to how things used to be. I wouldn't want to anyway, given the choice, because then my act of courage would've been obsolete and a waste of my time.

If I had a Hundred Dollars

If I had a hundred dollars, I would look for someone who's worthy enough to receive it from me. I would judge what kind of person or charity should receive it depending on how they act or what they supported. My final verdict would be the difference between who has an extra $100 to spare or save. But then again, who am I to decide who deserves what? As awesome as I am, I was not graced with that privilege. So here's what I'll do. I'll change the hundred dollars into 100 one dollar bills. Then I'll give them to 100 people who think they're not worthy to receive a dollar. I'll instruct them that they can do what they wish with the dollar. What can you do with a dollar? You can save it, spend it, lose it, or play with it. But my hope is that they will pass on that dollar to another person to brighten p their day and make them believe that if they're good enough to receive a dollar from a stranger, then they deserve bigger and greater things as well. Then those people will pass them on to another person, and another, and another, etc. Thus, if I had a hundred dollars, I could make 100 people realize their potential, who in turn will make 100 more people realize that, and soon, everyone will realize they're worth more than a dollar. If I only had a hundred dollars..

Do You Remember....?

Do you remember how things used to be? When you actually looked forward to waking up every morning. Remember when your laugh was carefree and your smile was genuine? There was no pretending and your happiness was real. Do you remember how easy life was? School was a fun place where you could hang out with your friends and there was no playground drama besides who took the jump ropes. No one decision defined the rest of your life. Do you remember how you used to think? You thought the world was in the palm of your hands and you were going to become the President. The future was too far away to even care and your dreams could come true. Do you remember when the only love you needed was from your parents? Do you remember how things used to be? Well, I don't. Do you?

There was something about the way he....

There was something about the way he...looked at me. There was so much intensity in those grey eyes, eyes the color of a promising storm and that hinted at his well-controlled emotions. I am not one to trust easily, yet there was something in those eyes that looked upon me with an unusual protective quality that reassured me I could trust him. I was not wrong. They say the eyes are the windows to the soul; his eyes were of someone that has soon too much. Thus I saw a hard, noble, protective, and strong heart. Again, I was not wrong. But what truly baffled me was that there was also compassion and understanding etched deep inside him. Never would I have imagined such qualities in a boy with eyes like that.

When I wake up.....

I wish I could have woken up in a different place. I wish I could have woken up to bright pink walls with pure white lining. I would jump out of bed and rush to the bathroom to get ready for my day. I would look forward to walking out of my room to to the rest of my penthouse on New York's Upper East Side. The thought of knowing I live by my own rules with no one breathing down my neck would make my morning spoon of Nutella even sweeter. As I sit down on an island stool to eat my cereal, I scan the living room, it's red walls making a fitting background for the black and white furnishings. I would turn on the 22' inch plasma but the news are not my top priority this morning. I throw my empty owl in the sink and give myself one last full body look over before I step out the door to the crisp New York air. I throw a quick good-bye to the doorman as my high-heeled boots click away toward school. Am I looking forward to school? Nope. I am more so looking forward to seeing my friends, comparing outfits, and planning our afternoon adventure on SoHo. Then after that long, tiring day, I take a taxi back to my penthouse, watch some Jersey Shore, and settle back in bed to get read to do it all over again tomorrow.