Get into it! June 2016

Are you guys 100% of the shots I don’t take? Because I missed you!

It’s been a while! You might be asking yourself: Why do I care about the ramblings of flaky rando who is incapable of keeping any semblance of a blog schedule?

To that I say: …Let’s move on.

Almost a year ago, I saw this commercial on television:

After seeing something like that, there are many thoughts that might run through your mind such as: Wow, that looks terrible! and What is the world coming to?

I saw that commercial and all I could think was: Cheesy dialogue? A vaguely disgusting plot (Apparently the best friend and the mother have known each other since he was a toddler which…you know, isn’t ideal)? A punny title??? Count me all the way in! Significant Mother was on the the fast track to becoming one of my favorite shows ever.

So. After acknowledging that fact, I recognize that my personal preferences might be a little questionable. That, however, isn’t going to stop me from presenting them as law! I had originally meant to do a monthly favorites sort of thing every month to tell you about what I’ve been into, but, as I mentioned above, that plan sort of fell apart. The good news is that I’ve spent my time away accumulating several things to share with you guys! You might be wondering: Why do I care about what this internet person thinks is interesting?

Well, dear reader, my answer to that is: You sure have a lot of questions, don’t you?


My love of the Princess Diaries franchise is well documented. Meg Cabot’s books were a HUGE part of my childhood; they’re part of why I love reading so much today. In The Princess Diaries, Mia Thermopolis keeps a detailed journal, writing down the daily goings-ons and wacky shenanigans in her life, including, but not limited to:

  • A chain-smoking Grandma with impulse control issues
  • A best friend who antagonizes foot fetishists
  • An evil archnemisis
  • The perils of the paparazzi
  • That one time a guy accidentally broke a globe over his own head in front of her

And worst of all:

  • A complete inability to understand algebra

Despite the fact that my own high school experience was admittedly less colorful, I could always relate to whatever Mia was going through. And really, when you get past the obvious, we really weren’t all that different. I obviously never had to deal with the drama that comes along with being famous, but I, too, never really got a good grasp on that whole math thing AND my life is full of wacky shenanigans! In fact, I’ve managed to take all of you along on the ultimate shenanigan: the idea that I’ll ever be a successful writer! 


Hahaha this is the best my life will ever be! (source)

The newest Princess Diaries book came out months ago, and of course I bought it right away. Here is a dramatic re-telling of the night I bought the book:

The bookstore is quiet. It’s Sunday night, twenty minutes before closing, and most people have already gone home, leaving the Barnes and Nobel an empty playground for people who have nothing better to do with their lives on a Sunday; no family obligations or meetings with potential paramours to hold them back from the only thing truly good and pure in this world: literature!

Enter KIANA. She leaps into the store in one mighty bound, her arms clawing madly at the air in front of her as if prepared for a fight. When she realizes there is no one standing in the way of the one thing she needs to survive, she slowly lowers her arms to her side. Her eyes continue to flit around the room, however, never fully resting on any particular thing, darting to and fro faster and ever faster until they finally lock in on her target: YOUNG ADULT FICTION.

It cannot be denied that she is an adult, but the word “young” seems out of place when applied to her: she is all sharp angles and loose, wrinkly skin hanging limply from her skeletal frame. She drags herself across the room, ignoring the startled looks of the booksellers; they don’t matter to her. The only thing that matters now is Michael Moscovitz, and she is close to him, so, so close to him. She can feel it in her bones.

Finally, she reaches her destination. She runs a bony hand along the spine of the books, searching for the “CA” section.

Suddenly, she stops.

Her breath catches in her throat and her slight frame quivers in excitement as she finally sees what she’s been looking for: ROYAL WEDDING by MEG CABOT.

She greedily grabs it and a strange feeling begins to flood her chest; a feeling of warmth and security, emotions she had long left behind on her journey to this book. Almost immediately, that feeling of warmth is replaced by a guttural howl, a howl that is so sharp, so raw, that she  can’t believe it’s coming from within her. The howl grows louder and more shrill until it is a piercing shriek, then it rises still, breaking the sound barrier and defying the laws of science.

Suddenly, a large clap! and a flash of light and it’s over. KIANA has vanished, the book gone with her, nothing to suggest she was ever there but a pair of shattered glasses on the floor.

The BOOKSELLERS shrug their shoulders: they’ve seen it all before.


Anyway, I loved it! Five stars! Would read again!

Lately, I’ve been trying to manage my anxiety in healthier ways.

Usually when I get stressed out, I just sort of shut down and stop doing the things I’m supposed to do. I stop doing much of anything, really, except mindlessly flicking through giffs on tumblr. This is, of course, not at all conducive to a normal lifestyle, especially if you’re trying to finish school, which probably explains why it took me three years to realize I didn’t want to be a nurse. Who can say?

So now when I get stressed out, instead of running away from my problems, I try to calm myself down with deep breaths and various other relaxation methods. I also try to write about why I’m stressed in my journal; it helps me work out my thoughts and realize that some things aren’t that catastrophic, after all.

These tools really help me manage my anxiety, but I haven’t ruled out the Internet completely. I couldn’t possibly! The Internet was my first friend and will probably be my last if I keep writing about myself like I’m some kind of demon.


Me after Chihuahua Spin (Source)

When I’m feeling really stressed, and just need to chill and zone out, I go to Chihuahua Spin, and I just watch a dog roll around for a while. Something about it is just so calming, assuming you only watch the chihuahua spin a reasonable number of times. Otherwise, you might waste too much time on the website and ignore too many of your responsibilities. THEN you’ll have to explain to people that you ruined your entire life because you just couldn’t stop watching a chihuahua roll around, and that is arguably the most stressful situation of all.

Anyway, I hope you like my recommendations! And if you don’t, well, you should probably reevaluate your life.



Sweet Dreams

When I was in elementary school, we had a sub who called herself “The Viking Lady”. She always came to school dressed head to toe in all the necessary Minnesota Vikings garb: a hat, a jersey, and blindingly bright shoes. She breezed through the hallways, a vision in purple and gold, her spirit beads swaying as she went. Sometimes, if you were lucky, she’d wink at you as she passed, her violet eyeliner twinkling in the light. Best of all, she always had candy on her person, hidden within some secret fold of her jersey, that she tossed to children throughout the day.


Not that far off from what she looked like (source).

 Truly a modern day hero.

 As benevolent as The Viking Lady was, she had absolutely no tolerance for mess. If a student got out of line, she was quick to rebuke them, and the sharp look of disapproval on her face was enough to quiet even the rowdiest child. Despite that fact, we were constantly pushing her buttons. Children who were usually saints turned into non-stop talking machines in her presence. Something about a middle-aged women dressed entirely in Viking’s memorabilia really got us hype.

 One day, The Viking Lady made us a promise: any child who could make the journey from our classroom to the cafeteria without talking would get extra candy for the day. This immediately got my attention. If I am fond of candy today, at age seven I was obsessed. I imagined myself confidently walking out of school at four, my cheeks and pockets filled with candy, rich both in sugar and the rise in self-esteem that can only come from being a winner.

 I caught sight of my face in the reflection of my pencil tin and realized right then and there that there was nothing I wouldn’t do for that candy.


What heaven looks like, probably (source).

 As with most things in my life, I took it too far: We began our voyage through the halls, my face stony and my shoulders stiff, like I was afraid to even move lest the soft rustling of my shirt rob me of my chance for candy. I took tiny, deliberate steps, positioning myself directly behind the Viking Lady, or more specifically, her candy-laden pockets, eyes quite literally on the prize.

 Then, in the background, a noise: a muffled snicker from one of my classmates. Then, a barley concealed whisper from my side. I bristled; didn’t my classmates know how important candy was? Didn’t they know they were ruining their own chances of obtaining that delicious, delicious, candy? Why would they sabotage themselves like that? Who raised them???

 It was too much for my tiny third-grade mind to handle.

 I swung around to face my peers, my eyes darting wildly to each of their faces, and loudly (and obnoxiously) whispered, “QUIET.”

 Everything stopped. My classmates froze and The Viking Lady turned to face me.

 “Kiana,” she said slowly, the disappointment clear on her face, “I thought we had an arrangement.”

I swallowed down my fear and boldly gave my reply: “I was only telling the other kids to be quiet! I was helping you!”

 “The only thing you’re doing is disrupting the class! I haven’t heard a peep out of anyone but you this whole time. No candy for you!”

And with those cruel words, she spun around and continued walking, like she hadn’t just plunged a yellow-sneakered foot directly into my heart. My classmates (softly) jeered at me as they passed, their smiles so wide they bordered on inhuman. My candy-loss made me feel slow and unsteady and I started dragging my feet until I was lagging behind everyone else.

 When we finally reached the cafeteria, The Viking Lady opened her pockets to my classmates, allowing them to have their pick of her treasure, while I silently stewed at my table. I looked down at my plain ham and cheese sandwich and wondered where I’d gone wrong.

You might be wondering, dear reader, why I felt it necessary to tell you this story. Maybe, you might think to yourself, this is a cautionary tale. Maybe Kiana’s goal is to tell us about how much she has grown since then, and how now she minds her own business and works tirelessly everyday to better herself.

HA HA! You’ve severely overestimated my capacity for change! Not only do I still do things like this today (just on a more “adult” scale), I am arguably worse now than I was in third grade. At age 21, I still feel a need to control others, to steer them down the right path and force my help on them until they begin to walk it. Worse yet, sometimes these compulsions are still candy-related.

I let my desire to “help” others ruin my life. When the people I love don’t do what they’re “supposed” to do, I get so, so stressed out. I spend all my time thinking about them and how, if they would only listen to me, things would be so much better. I used to blame them for this, but now I see that it is really more my fault than anyone else’s.

I’m just now realizing that I don’t have all the answers. In fact, I have so few answers, it’s actually kind of laughable. And while I want the best for my loved ones, I can’t make them do anything that they don’t want to. They are independent people with their own dreams and desires, and just because those might be different from what I originally planned for them, it doesn’t make them bad. Just different. And that’s ok.

I have spent 21 years whispering demands at people, and now I’m determined to stop. I will always be there to offer help and give advice to others when they want it, but I won’t force myself on them, and I’ll support whatever they decide, just as I’d hope they would support me if they ever stumbled upon my shockingly large secret candy stash.

Live and let live,


PS. I’m still mad about that candy!!