Thursday, August 25, 2011

My first car

I had a really good childhood. I can't complain. We didn't have a lot of money, but my parents always managed to get us cool toys to play with.

The one I can remember the most was "Lalo", my first doll. He was a baby, like "Big Baby" from Toy Story 3:

Picture taken from

Well, "Lalo" was my companion in all of my playdates and adventures. I say "adventures" because, as you may know, I wasn't an ordinary kid.
The thing is, having an ADHD 4 year old can be hard work. So my mom always had to find me something to do because I wouldn't stop jumping around, breaking stuff or wanting attention.
My parents' solution was simple: get little Mariel a Play School car.

Let me describe it with one word: EPICNESS!

That red and yellow car was the coolest, most awesome thing someone had given me. My reaction towards the car cannot be described in words.

I kept opening the door, getting inside, then getting outside, and closing the door, over and over again. I must have entered and left the car nearly about 40 times until my mom finally told me that I could use my legs to move from one place to the other.

So, next thing I did was open the door, sit inside the car, close the door, and start walking. It was AMAZING! I WAS DRIVING MY OWN CAR! Now I looked like me dad! I felt so stylish and "big", I wasn't going to be called "a baby" anymore. That car and me driving it (well, walking it) was even cooler than not looking at explosions.

My parents soon realized the huge mistake they had made: giving a CAR (toy, but still a car... it had wheels!) to an ADHD 4 year old.


I would drive around with it to the kitchen, to the living room, to my room, to the garden (and taking dirt and mud into the house), to the bathroom, to my parents' room, to my brother's room... But it was just too awesome to not play with it.

Years passed and the car would still be my companion. Lalo would sometimes come along with us, making playtime even better.

I eventually grew taller than the car, but that wouldn't stop me from using it.

I loved my car with all my heart.

And then... that dreadful day...................

I came home from swimming class, all excited to play with my car and "drive it to the beach" (because of course you imagine that you're driving somewhere) and then I saw it.

My older brother's friends decided to climb on its roof all at once and broke it.

I mourned my car so bad; Lalo and I prepared a burial for it, we even dug a hole on the garden, but my parents caught us and made me go back to my room---without Lalo ('cause he was all muddy).

So, that's the story about my first car. I really don't know how my parent's got rid of the broken thing, but I sure know they didn't bury it.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

I almost got killed... by a roof!

A couple of years ago, my coworkers and I used to travel a lot... work issues, of course. Since all of us have family members in the cities nearby, we thought it would be cooler if we stayed at our respective parents' house instead of paying for an hotel. So girls would stick with girls, and boys with boys.

My parents live in a small border city, so every time we had to go there for a business meeting, Gina (a coworker) and I would stay at my parents' house; we would have awesome breakfast, cable TV, video games and a laundry room. Pretty neat.

There was this one time that we had to travel to the city where Gina's parents lived. So, we got there, left our bags and headed towards the meeting.

I remember that day very very vaguely (because I was tired... REALLY TIRED). Back then, one of my functions as a video editor was also working with the camera. And I'm talking about a BIG camera (well, "big" for me because I'm rather small and skinny). So, imagine a 23 year old skinny girl, with back issues (I have ankylosing spondylitis, but don't worry, I'm fine), holding a big video camera on her shoulders... Not cool!

I know the camera view is facing the other way... It's just more dramatic this way, right?

Anyways, after the big event finally ended, we headed towards Gina's home. It was close to 10pm, and she decided to take a bath right after dinner. So, since they only had one bathroom, I had to wait for my turn (I always, ALWAYS shower at night... my hair looks cooler in the morning that way). So, right after she finished, she went into her room and put the lights out, and I headed towards the bathroom.

I really can't remember how long the shower was, maybe 20 minutes (sorry world). Regardless, it was really late and everybody was fast asleep.
I put my pj's on and quietly opened the door to head towards the guest room. But... it was dark... REALLY dark. I couldn't see a thing. Good thing was I had a good memory and remembered how the corridor looked like; I knew there was a low table and a couple of chairs, a dresser and a lamp. But I also knew that on that table, there was some glass jars and a couple of ceramic figures (an angel, I think).

Do you remember one of my older posts that said I was clumsy? Well... this time was definitely not going to be any different. I was going to be tested.

I quietly picked up my dirty clothes and towel, and walked very veeeeeeeeery carefully between the very veeeeeeeeeery dark room.

I know what you're thinking: "TURN ON THE LIGHTS!". Well, I thought so too, but this wasn't my house, so a) I didn't know where the switch was; and b) I didn't want to wake anybody up.

Anyway, I continued my way through the corridor, almost reaching the room. And then........... *CRASH!*

WHAT HAD JUST HAPPENED?!?! I DIDN'T TOUCH ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!! I looked everywhere amidst the darkness but couldn't see anything! What did I just break?!?! And more importantly HOW DID I BREAK IT?!?!

You can imagine what happened next... EMBARRASSMENT.

Gina came out of her room and gave me the weirdest look ever.

Gina: What happened?
Gina: What was that sound?
Gina: How can you not know?

Then Gina's mom came out of her room.

Gina's Mom: What happened? Is everyone all right?
Gina: I don't know, mom.
Me: MA'AM! I AM SO SORRY! I-I-I don't know what happened!
Gina's Mom: Mariel, calm down. It's okay.
Me: NO! NO! NO! What ever I broke, I will pay for it! I promise! Please don't be mad!
Gina's Mom: Mariel, calm down. What did you break?
Gina: Well, it sounded like something definitely broke.
Gina's Mom: It's okay. Let's look around.

I felt awful. You have no idea. AWFUL. I couldn't believe it; first time they open their doors for a crazy girl to sleep in their house, and the crazy girl breaks their stuff. FAAAAAAAANTASTIC!

I obviously didn't move an inch. I was stumped. Shocked. Embarrassed.

We looked around the entire corridor, and nothing. Every jar and ceramic piece was there.
But what about the sound? And what about the pieces behind me? There were broken pieces of... of... of something, just a few inches behind my feet.

Gina's Mom: Everything seems to be fine.
Gina: Yeah, but what is that?

Gina pointed towards the pieces behind me.

Gina: Where did that come from?

It wasn't until I saw Gina's mom confused expression that it occurred me to look to where she was staring: the roof.


Gina's Mom: OH MY GOD! Thank the Lord you're fine!

She hurried to hug me. I had no idea what just had happened.

Gina's Mom: I am SO sorry! We had some construction workers doing a job on the roof and they must have left this part unstable. Can you imagine what would have happened if it had fallen on your head?

And then it hit me (hahaha, lol, I just made a pun).


Hypothetically hit me: if I had been standing just a few inches behind, the cement would have cracked my head. And that would have been it; I would have most probably died or be left pretty stupid.

So, yes, THANK THE LORD I was fine. Just shocked, confused, still embarrassed for waking people up, and thinking about how short life was... but other than that, fine.

I can only say that I was very lucky that time, and that I thank God for making me walk the way I did that night.

Only thing is, I have never been invited to stay over at Gina's parents' house again.

Friday, August 12, 2011

MysteryGuitarMan wrote to ME!

Yes... I couldn't believe it either, especially since it was TWO YEARS AGO and I just noticed!

I feel so stupid! WHY didn't I see that inbox!? WHY!?!?

Regardless, I feel pretty cool and somehow important! Hahahaha! I know it's stupid, but it's a WIN for me; I am a huge fan of MysteryGuitarMan, and I love his work. And for him to have noticed my Youtube channel back then, it's kind of cool, right?

Anyways,  sorry for not posting anything else right now, but I got tons of work! I did, however (if you checked my vlogs on youtube) got my money back! YEEEEEEY!

For those who don't know, last Saturday I got robbed. Some guy cloned my debit card and stole 3,000 pesos (about 300 dls). So, I had no money, no gas, no food... NOTHING! AND I had to pay rent and bills.
Originally, the bank said that they had to file my report and with all the paperwork they would give me an answer 'til August 23rd, but I got a message today that the case had been closed. So I went to the bank and WIN! It was a favorable response and I got all my money back! WHEEEEW!

I am sooooo happy right now! MysteryGuitarMan AND my money back! THANK YOU GOD!

I guess that's it for today. I hope to have another post up during the weekend.

Thank you guys for all of your support! Have an awesome day and may the force be with you!
Bless you!

UPDATE: MysteryGuitarMan DID write back! He is awesome! He sent me a message via Twitter:

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Zombie cat! (and update)

I am not kidding! There was a zombie cat outside my house! I saw it just now!

Imagine a little white kitten, now put some dirt on it; now give it rabies; now make a zombie bite it and make it lose a couple of its skin and flesh... now put in some red eyes; and finally, add a creeper face.
There you go! You now have a brief description of Zombie cat.

I tried taking a picture and/or video, but it was too fast and got away every single time (sorry gremlins).
But you can imagine my surprise, at 12:20am, hearing weird noises coming from outside. And I had just been told by my neighbors that there have been a couple of break-ins at the neighborhood.

So first, I turned on the lights. The noise continued. I approached the window, opened the curtain, and nothing. I go back to my seat and continue watching some videos on youtube, and then I hear the noise again, like if someone was moving some paper bags or something.
I immediately grew a pair (forgive my french, but I thought my roommate was asleep and I'd had to become a big strong man to protect our house) and decided to open the window making a loud noise as if to say "I can see you, possible thief! Get out of my property or I'll grow a gun in my hand too!".
And surprise surprise, two cats jump out of our garbage can: a familiar orange cat I nicknamed "el gatito buena onda" (the groovy cat) 'cause he used to sleep on my car's roof and I would always find cigarettes (my roommates' of course), so we started joking around that the cat liked to smoke before he went to bed on the roof; and zombie cat, an ugly, disgusting, creepy little white/gray/flesh ball of fur with murderous red eyes and a purple collar.

Groovy cat escaped with haste, but Zombie cat... he just stood there, looking at me with those red eyes. He stood there for like a minute or so, and then WALKED away; no rush, no haste... nothing! Just walked away...

A few minutes passed and I heard the noise again, so I walked to the window again, and there he was... standing, even CLOSER to the window. Just looking at me, gazing his way into my eyes............CREEPY!
By now, my roommate comes out of his room and asks me what I'm doing. I point out to the zombie cat, and he's like "damn! he's ugly and creepy!" and I'm like "yeah... I think it's a zombie cat".

He opens the door and scares it away. But Zombie cat keeps coming back. So I begin to talk about it on my facebook and twitter, and my friends are like "take a pic or it never happened".

So now it's 1:30am and I still haven't been able to take its picture. Anyways, if I never get the chance to take its picture, just trust me, okay gremlins?
I may or may not try to draw Zombie cat; if I draw a respectively good picture, then I'll definitely put it up... If not, well, then you'll just have to read the previous description from above and imagine that poor kitten.

Anyways, have a good night (or morning, if you don't have ADHD and can sleep early)! Be awesome! And God bless!

UPDATE: Zombie cat is now dead! My neighbor next door found him dying outside of her house, and then it eventually died. 
R.I.P. for ever Zombie cat. Please don't come back to life! Stay dead! Not that I hated you, but you were creepy, and evil looking, and a zombie... so... yeah...

Friday, August 5, 2011

I'm clumsy!

Gremlins, I have a serious problem... I was taking a shower today and I realized I had lots and lots of bruises, and I couldn't remember how I got them.
I mean, I know I hit myself everyday with something, but this is just bad!

I remember when I was a kid my mom used to count all the bruises I had on my legs to let me know I was playing too rough, and that I had to behave more girly; sometimes, we would count between 20 and 30 bruises on each leg!

I suppose my childhood was harder on my mom than on me; I remembered I had lots of fun, but I also remembered that I got grounded a lot.
Since I'm a geek girl (and have always been) I used to hang out more with boys than with girls (and I still do), meaning I would also play sports with boys like soccer, basketball and even football, instead of playing with Barbies and other dolls with girls my own age.

And, to make my mother's life even more difficult, I had ADHD. I guess that's why my parents decided to put my brothers and I in different sports all day: tennis, swimming, golf, karate, soccer... you name it, I've played it. And since that didn't tire her little girl down, she also had to put me in art classes, ballet, jazz and other dancing classes. But it still didn't work; I would get home, get all my homework done and still have enough energy to play Nintendo for hours.

Yes. My mom's life must've been very very difficult with me around. Sorry mom!

As a result of my constant lack of sleepiness, I have become somewhat... clumsy. I always, ALWAYS hit myself with tables, chairs, beds and the occasional wall. My eyesight is perfect (I got an eye surgery two years ago) but I can't seem to measure the distance between the wall and me.

And not only that, but I always drop, break, burn or flood stuff.

When I was about 17 years old and was living with my grandmother, we (my older brother, a cousin and I) burned one of her tables. BY ACCIDENT! Don't get mad audience! Here me out: we were going to make a barbecue and we bought this easy, small portable barbecue grill that came with it's charcoal and fire and metal stuff; in other words, you opened it, start it up and began cooking the meat.
It looked like a great idea for a couple of teenagers, so we just grabbed a small table to put it on and took it outside so we wouldn't leave the house smelling like smoke ('cause she lived in an apartment). Smart idea so far, right? We wouldn't stench the house, we wouldn't use any of her cooking accessories, and she would never find out (because she had left on a trip).
But our stupid teenager minds did not think of the following:

Yes... we set the table on fire. BUT, we bought her a new one... So... don't get mad!

There was another time, when I was already in college, that my grandmother called me to help her out because she was going to move to the apartment below. I lived 40 minutes away, so I took a bus and got there as quick as I could.
My parents were already there (on vacation) and so were my brothers. Remember how I wrote about me not being able to handle boxes? Well, my family noticed and gave me other stuff to help out with.
One of those things was a basket filled with glass jars and vases. By this time in my life, I knew I was clumsy.

Me: Mom... Can I help with other stuff?
Mom: Why?
Me: Because I'm going to break these.
Mom: No, you're not.
Me: Oh, yes I am.
Mom: Don't be silly, just be careful where you step and it will be alright.
Me: Mom, you don't understand: I drop things really easily, even if I'm cautious. It's like a spell!
Mom: Honey, don't be ridiculous. Go and help your grandma with the basket.
Me: But mooooom, I don't wanna.
Mom: It's either that or boxes. Your pick.
Me: ...
Mom: Well?
Me: But I'm going to break them and grandma is going to get piiiiiiissseeeed!
Mom: Don't say that!
Me: Sorry, but it's true!
Mom: Honey, you'll be fine. I trust you.

She shouldn't have. I would have to travel, with a basket, filled with tons and tons of glass vases, down the stairs.

It took me nearly 10 minutes to walk down the stairs. My brothers would pass right beside me over and over again, carrying boxes, while I was stuck with a stupid basket, filled with glass vases and jars. But I was too scared, almost sure that I was going to fall and break everything, so I decided to take my time: tiny baby steps, one at a time.

Just as I reached the floor, I congratulated myself for not breaking anything. I was so happy, I actually began to think my mother was finally right; all her hopes and dreams about me being careful had finally come true. But as soon as I came close to the door... whoopsy-daisy!

I tripped over the door's step! A tiny door step! WHY WOULD A DOOR HAVE A FREAKING STEP!? All the jars fell to the floor, and grandma did get pissed.
See Mom? You should've listened to your daughter! But noooo, you had to go on believing in me, thinking I was capable of handling the glass jars. Oh mom... I love you for thinking I can do great things.

Anyways, just as I am writing this, I burned my breakfast. I forgot my toaster's timer doesn't work and it keeps toasting for ever and ever until you stop it. There goes my toast bread.
And this isn't the first time; when I was in middle school I almost burned my house down: I wanted to make myself a pizza, so I put it in the microwave and hit 30:00 minutes instead of 3:00.

Yellow smoke was what alarmed me (surprisingly not the smell), and I ran towards the kitchen, opened the microwave, burned my tiny hands and put all the crisped mass into the sink.
How have I managed to stay alive all these years? I have no clue. But I have to thank God for that; He's just awesome for letting me live!

Want to read another one? It's also about my grandma! (I'm amazed to see how she still manages to love me).
A couple of months ago, I went to visit her and my cousins (who also live with her and my older brother). Hours passed and everyone fell asleep, but not me (ADHD). So, I decided to take a long, hot shower to get my body all relaxed and ready to sleep.
I was in the shower for about 20 minutes or so, and when I shut the water off and opened the door... MADNESS! There was water all over the bathroom!

The thing about her bathroom is that it has two floor drains: one in the shower and one in the outside floor of the shower. They are both connected. And for some strange reason, the water went from the shower's drain into the outside floor's drain.

I quickly put some clothes on and opened the bathroom's door to go get a mop. And then, surprise surprise! There was even MORE water, all over the apartment's floor! And everybody was asleep!

It took me nearly two and a half hours to clean everything without waking people up. I was like a freaking ninja, a mopping ninja.

But, yeah. I have no idea why this happens all the time. My mom says it's because I don't pay enough attention to what I'm doing, but I blame my ADHD. It just has to be it, right?
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