I’m cheating on my blog

with another blog.

that’s right… I finally started an online art portfolio. (all it took was my InDesign teacher offering extra credit for posting our midterm assignment. haha.)

there are only a couple of posts up so far.. but check it out if you want!

right……. HERE



it’s pocket grenade time, you hussy.. TAKE IT!

there are a few things you should know.

did you feel that boob stab?

the salute on the boat going by in the background.. KILLS ME. don’t worry that me, Cam, and Chewy all drank some Sun Drop. it’s not amazing, but the commercial makes everything a-ok.

this next one will only make sense if you’ve seen THIS. (dubbed the worst song ever written… gone viral on youtube. warning: you may willfully  burst your own eardrums.) but Glozell.. my favorite youtuber.. illustrates why it’s awesome.

fried eggs.. fried eggs..
did you pee from laughter yet?

if not.. you are a robot. like the girl on small wonder. but maybe this will help:

and if that’s not enough, see this and this.

and the other thing you should know, that isn’t the least bit funny.. but important nonetheless:

or mostly.. rugby players.

and that concludes your weekend education.
you’re welcome.


I need to say some things to some people that I can’t actually say to them in real life. please bear with me while I use my blog as a nameless release into the interweb for a minute. things are about to get real personal.

Dear Ex-Best Guy Friend,

Today I found out you are married. This hurts me for two reasons: 1. I had to find out by Facebook stalking after you deleted me, and not even from you. 2. You know how I feel about your significant other and the rashness of your decisions regarding her. She does not make you your best self — she has been the cause of all of your worst decisions.
We used to be best friends and you cut me out of your life without notice and without a word of goodbye.. a magic disappearing act that has stung more than you’ll ever know. Today I missed you more than usual when I said, “pics or it didn’t happen,” to someone.  I almost texted you, and then I remembered, and I wished things were different. I know you are trying to do the right thing, but I guess you have helped reaffirm the last thing I said to you in our last conversation — the thing that perturbed you and turns out to be true. How ironically self-fulfilling life turns out to be.

Miss you — the guy that wrote me a 6-page illustrated goodbye letter 4 years ago.. and who sent me daily pictures of all his gourmet meals.. and taught me about noods.. and listened and cared better than anyone else about the little things that made up my day.. and who made me laugh harder than anyone.

Love always,

Dear Douche Nozzle,

It’s now been a week since we’ve spoken. The last thing you said to me was, “I don’t care if we talk or not, Aubrey.” So we aren’t.. and we won’t be. I was THIS close to writing you back a response so sarcastic it would have singed your eyebrows, but I decided to be the bigger person and I left it there. I don’t know if you saw me today when I got gas and didn’t go in, but if you did, I hope that solidified my resolve from your point of view. It blows my mind that someone could be so insensitive and selfish as you have been. I still don’t understand why you tried so hard to incorporate me into your life and make me your friend after such a frustrating beginning. I liked you. A lot. I fit the lyric, “my memory is cruel, I’m queen of attention to details, defending intentions if he fails,” perfectly. I gave you the benefit of the doubt and second and third and sixth chances. Ultimately, your flakiness and disregard spoke louder than all your words ever did. Everyone else in my life could see it clearly all along, while I knew it in my head, but didn’t want it to be true.
The irony of you saying I acted like a little girl is completely lost on you.. because you and your friends are some of the most immature I have ever met.. (and I served a mission surrounded by 19 year-old guys.)
Sometimes it’s hard for me to cut people out of my life.. but you finally pushed it to the point of easy. Now tell me.. does it bother you that your best friend texts me like it’s going out of style?

Oh so sincerely,

Dear Latin Lover,

If anyone has ever fit the description “love at first sight” for me, it would probably be you. I remember the moment I first saw you, I felt like I needed someone to assist me in removing my jaw from the floor and putting it back in my face before my condition became permanent. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. It’s now been about 3.5 years since that moment.. and after great years of friendship.. something has changed for me, and I have to tell you: I think I love you as more than a friend.
There, I said it.
I love your charm and your wit and your intelligence and the way you care about me. I love your family. I love your testimony and your strength as the only member of the church. I love your sense of humor and your adorable little accent. I love the way you make me feel when I’m with you. I love that I’m proud to introduce you to anybody I know and be confident that they’ll like you. I love the way you randomly call me when I need it the most and listen to me sob into the phone.. or the way you call me when you’re down because you know I’ll cheer you up. I love it when you ask me to sing medleys for you. I love when you speak to me in Spanish. I love dancing with you. I love the way we are together.
But despite all this, you confuse me. Whenever we’re together you act like we’re together… there is no semblance of personal space and everyone thinks we’re dating.. yet nothing ever happens. Last time I saw you I was almost sure you were gonna kiss me, but you held me so close for so long and then walked out the door, looking back at me and smiling your big perfect smile at me as you walked down my front steps. I closed the door and melted into a puddle of happiness and wishes and frustration.
I know you could have any girl you want, and that intimidates me.. yet you don’t seem to do much about it except be pursued without actually turning anything into a legitimate relationship.
I don’t want to be heartbroken if you end up with somebody else and I spend my whole life wondering, “what if..?” But I’m scared. I’m scared to pour my heart out into a very breakable glass for you, and find out you’re not thirsty. I’m scared our current comfortable relationship could be different. I’m scared you will give me excuses. I’m scared because I don’t know how you feel.
Part of me wishes you’ll stumble across this and know it’s you and make a move, but I’m not holding my breath.
Tal vez un dia te lo dire..