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There are probably better ways to use my time.

You guys. I have a lot of lame hobbies. Among these, there’s looking at calendars online (not shopping for them, not printing them out and USING them.. just looking at them in awe), e-stalking this person, freaking out when I recognize actors that play secondary characters across different shows*


In my last post I posted a clip of Glee where Sandy Ryerson yells at someone for not knowing who Josh Groban is. Last weekend, I watched Groundhog Day with Ernesto and was super excited to see a young, less pastel-covered Sandy (whose name is Stephen Toboloswky IRL) hanging out with Bill Murray.


While I was looking for relevant pictures to put on this blog, I found THIS ONE..

.. and then it took like 20 seconds to find Stephen Tobolowsky’s AMA and his podcast. Which I am listening to right now. He’s talking about yogurt and heart surgery and being a terrible bowler. (!!!!)
Okay, so that unprecedented detour does a pretty good job of depicting how I spend an alarming amount of my free time. It’s an even more alarming amount now that I’m in this awkward space before school and work start again. Since Ernesto already has a life, I spend most of the day alone in our apartment trying to ignore the 3 boxes that have been halfway unpacked for the past 3 weeks and dividing my time between the hobbies previously discussed and watching old episodes of Project Runway.
At first, I was like, “Why is this the first time I’m watching this show? I should’ve listened to Person From High School Who Recommended It. This show is incredible. Omg Tim Gunn.” And thennn I realized that what I love about this show is that it’s exactly like watching episodes of people working on art projects at Carleton until 4 in the morning, had those episodes ever been filmed. It took 3 years of being in Boliou the night before (or morning of) a deadline, running on no sleep and being surrounded by 11-15 people who are freaking out, followed by a 2-hour critique where everyone tells you all the different ways they hate your piece and one part they liked about it to appreciate what goes on in Project Runway. Granted, Michael Kors is a little bit more creative with the insults he hands out, but you get the picture. So yeah, I’ve felt sort of like a veteran who can’t stop watching war movies.
In an attempt to feel less gross about myself after finishing Season 8, I started looking for new books for my Kindle. Ernesto got me The Firm and well.. okay, I thought I’d lost all respect for John Grisham when I learned he was responsible for Christmas with the Kranks. WRONG. It turns out that I still had a light at the end of my John Grisham tunnel, and that light disappeared with The Firm. I don’t think I’m even ready to talk about this yet. I’m definitely not one against trashy novels (remember sophomore fall term at Carleton, when I read like 4 Princess Diary Books AND the entire Queen of Babble series AND both of the Bridget Jones’ Diary books? If it sounds super lonely and pitiful, it’s cause it was. But at least it was enjoyable), but The Firm made me want to sue John Grisham for allowing himself to accept a spot on the bestseller list.

After that debacle, I was browsing r/kindlefreebies and THIS IS WHERE IT GETS GOOD I found this website that has a hundred free e-books.. Oh man. Oh. Man. I don’t even have the words to convey how terrible/awesome it was, so I’ve picked out a few of the most memorable titles (accompanied by the original cover art and a brief description by the author):

My favorite cover is definitely Plankton We Have Heard on High, but it’s tough to choose. Part of me sort of wants to download some of these and see if the inside is as entertaining as the outside, but I don’t want to spoil the illusion.

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State of the Paulina Pt. 2

Paulina is melting – The weather forecast in Dallas has been 108 degrees for the past two weeks, which hasn’t been too bad since I decided the other day to never go outside for the rest of the summer. The best part of not having any air conditioning in my car is that I’ve spent a lot of time bonding with random strangers on the road when I see them with all four windows down, just like me. One guy actually gave us a thumbs-up when Ernesto and I pulled up next to him at a red light. The good news is that next Friday we’re supposed to hit a refreshing 97 degrees!

Paulina can’t stop watching Breaking Bad – UM I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START. I don’t think I’ve been this simultaneously horrified and enthralled by a teledrama since LOST, which is saying a lot considering that Breaking Bad is zero parts magical realism and all parts meth/Mexican drug dealers. And fantastic music, like this scene where they play Tamacun. Also, does Walt look familiar to you? You might have seen him in Malcolm in the Middle..

Bryan Cranston plays Shannon in Drive, and he worked on the movie in the middle of playing Walt in Breaking Bad. I like to think that there’s a missing Breaking Bad episode out there somewhere that highlights the strained relationship between Walt and Jesse as the former is forced to choose partners. 
Rough storyboard:
 “He’s leaving me for Ryan, isn’t he?”
It’s a character development jackpot. Besides the fabulous connections this show has with Ryan Gozlin’, it also constantly refers to places/names that have been a part of my life for a long time like Tampico and Salamanca. Hearing them tossed around in dialogue while referring to meth and murder is slightly offputting, but I’ll take what I can get. ALSO, Jesse Pinkman’s character and I are both allergic to erythromycin! If that isn’t enough to justify my unhealthy addiction to this show, I don’t know what will. 

Paulina is shocked and appalled– Given that the chances of the Red Sox getting their faces out of their butts in time to make the play-offs are slim to none, Ernesto and I finally admitted that we probably are not going to see a Rangers vs. BoSox baseball game this fall. Then I got really excited about maybe getting tickets to see the girls 2012 gymnastics team perform alongside Nastia Liukin in Dallas. Aaaaaand that’s when I learned that Ernesto doesn’t know who Nastia Liukin is. Um. Our exchange was something like this:

Paulina miraculously hasn’t run out of tears yet – The amount of crying I do for anything Olympics-related is disgusting. It doesn’t even have to be an athletic event, it could just be a Fruit of the Loom commercial with a vague allusion to gymnastics and I guarantee that I will be mopping bucketfuls of my tears away. The amount of crying I did at the opening ceremony ALONE easily quadruples the amount of crying I did when one of my family’s dogs died this year (sorry Buddy.. nothing personal). THE BEST (and by ‘best’ I mean ‘worst’) part of the 3 hour+ opening ceremony was that my family and I spent all of it at Buffalo Wild Wings, where the waitress kept politely asking if everything was alright and I had to pretend to be super interested in my spinach-artichoke dip so she wouldn’t see how red my eyes were from bawling at the tv screens.

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The Boutique Cupcake

Not even Nostradamus could have warned us about the cupcake, that miniature dessert dressed in layer upon layer of frosting rosettes that has seduced the country with its hollow decadence. Bit by extravagantly decorated bit, the twenty-first century’s All-American Boutique Cupcake has invaded every possible venue with unnecessarily polka-dotted, pink or curlycued cupcake services, erasing from the nation’s memory such once-beloved delicacies as the Apple Pie or the S’More. The following instructions indicate how, with just a handful of ingredients, you too can contribute to this cream cheese-frosted, sprinkle-covered skid mark in the nation’s culinary history.

Prep time: Varies
Baking Time: 0 minutes
Yield: Three-dozen cupcakes


Old family recipe for fairy cakes

15 ½ ounces all-purpose flour

1 ¼ teaspoons baking soda

1 1/4 teaspoons salt

3 eggs

1 1/4 teaspoons vanilla extract

1/8 cup water

1 episode of Sex and the City

5 tablespoons of flour

1 cup of milk

1 dump truck filled with confectioner’s sugar

Assorted buckets of food coloring

1-3 starving artists (use as needed)


1. Refer to an old family recipe for fairy cakes, the boutique cupcake’s homely English predecessor. Hold the yellowed, tea-stained piece of paper in your hands as you relish the thought that you are about to make a vintage dessert. Following the instructions that have been passed down for generations, combine the flour, baking soda and salt in a medium bowl. Mix well before adding the eggs, vanilla and water. Set the mixture aside.

2. Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees F. As you wait, help yourself to an episode of Sex and the City. Observe as Carrie Bradshaw and her girlfriends buy cupcakes from Magnolia’s Bakery Shop. Notice that the cupcakes these women buy are just as glittery and glamorous as their sequined clutches and sparkly platform heels. Wonder whether the recipe you are using will include instructions for red velvet cake, which is Carrie’s favorite flavor.

3. Return to the old, tea-stained family recipe for vintage fairy cakes. Read the instructions from beginning to end, and frown as you realize that this 1850’s recipe doesn’t tell you how to make red velvet batter. Frown even more as you notice the recipe’s lack of instruction for elaborate frosting methods, proper sprinkle application or marzipan garnish techniques. Deem the old English recipe absolutely useless and stuff it down the garbage disposal along with the flour, baking soda, salt, eggs, vanilla extract and water mixture you prepared earlier.

4. Turn off the oven. Buy a red velvet sheet cake. Using a thin knife, carefully cut round, fluted cup shapes out of the sheet cake. Refer to one of your paper liners as a model. After cutting out the first cupcake, briefly consider cutting in straight cylindrical shapes, or even cubes to reduce the leftover cake scraps. Decide that the traditional cup shape is much cuter than any efficient alternative, and continue cutting. As you cut out each cupcake, keep in mind the proper cake-slice-to-cupcake ratio; one hearty, satisfying cake slice should be the equivalent to 1.7 cupcakes. A successful all-American boutique cupcake denies the eater a satisfactory helping of dessert after one serving, but leaves the eater feeling guilty and engorged after a second. Throw the remaining sheet cake scraps down the garbage disposal.

5. In a pink, polka-dotted, or Rachel Ray-endorsed saucepan, prepare the frosting by whisking the flour with the milk and setting over heat. Stir constantly until the mixture is as thick as the fake French accents you’ve heard on Cupcake Wars. Add the confectioner’s sugar to the mixture one bucketful at a time, stirring occasionally. To create batches of colored frosting, add ¼ bucket of food coloring to each bucket of icing at a time and stir briskly, adding more coloring as needed. Summon one or more artists, and put their extensive backgrounds in color theory to use by having them create your frosting palette.

6. When you have made enough icing to create an edible life-size statue of Paula Deen, remove the saucepan from the stovetop and let cool. Divide the frosting among your various artists. Drawing from any number of sources for inspiration, choose several objects and/or scenes that will take each artist at least 2 hours to sculpt or paint using the icing provided. Encourage each artist to incorporate the traditional elements of design (e.g. form, line, value, rhythm, variety, symmetry) as they stack nauseatingly overworked poodles, Hello Kitties, flower arrangements, Muppet characters, Mario Party scenes, ladybugs and lipsticks on top of each cupcake. Carefully measure the icing-to-cake ratio of each cupcake; ideally, the amount of icing on each cupcake should be equal to 1n+4, where n = amount of cake and the units are measured in the average human mouthful.

7. When all of the cupcakes have been adequately frosted, place them delicately inside their respective paper liners. Although you may choose from a variety of these, note that any self-respecting cupcake liner comes in animal print, floral print, plaid or paisley patterns. If the pattern isn’t short-circuiting your retina, select another cupcake liner. Alternatively, you may choose to construct your cupcake liners using hand-made paper made with exotic flower petals or dried fall leaves, depending on the occasion. You may also opt for disposable lace liners cut with butterfly patterns, snowflakes, picket fences, intertwining hearts, family crests or flower silhouettes. Although these can be accomplished with any laser-cutter, it is in the spirit of the all-American boutique cupcake to waste more time, energy and morale by cutting each delicate pattern by hand.

8. Spare no expense when it comes to arranging your cupcakes. Stack tray upon pastel-colored tray of your chocolate-frosting sugar bombs to create faux wedding cakes. For an attempt at classiness, serve cupcakes in expensive wine glasses alongside sparklers, flower arrangements, or any other largesse that will distract from the fact that you are dressing up a child’s dessert in high heels.

9. At no point should you stop to consider the implications of contributing to this current culinary trend. Do not stop to ask yourself why the boutique cupcake so depends on its frosting, its liners, its arrangements and its endless embellishments. Doing so might reveal that the cupcake is not a dessert at all, but just a brightly colored illustration of what “delicious” might look like if it were made with more than sugar and food coloring. Doing so might remind you that while four shades of orange frosting topped with a marzipan sun and a hand-embroidered liner taste like very little, a goopy, half-melted ice cream cone makes up for its lack of aesthetic in Rocky-Road flavored relief from the summer sun. Doing so might remind you that fried Reese’s bars don’t need to dress up in frosting because the experience of battered peanut butter is memorable enough to last an entire year. Doing so might remind you that licking the streams of lemon syrup running from the popsicle stick in your hand down to your elbow does more for your senses than seeing a million perfect pink sugar rosettes.

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Missed You

Hey there Internet old buddy old pal! It’s been a long, dark and desolate week without you. By ‘long, dark and desolate,’ I actually mean ‘warm and sunny and next to the beach’. And surrounded by Mexico’s finest federal police and army personnel! This year, da homeland had the honor of hosting the annual G20, so everyone at Los Cabos cleaned up real nice. We stayed at the same hotel that hosted  the Russian representatives, which meant that we had to walk through metal detectors and let security X-ray our stuff every time we felt like going through the lobby. Although that made it feel like we never really left the airport, the hotel made up for it by very conveniently activating free WiFi in the lobby just as Russia’s finance ministers checked in. Clever girl..

We spared no expense. (4 RUSSIA!!!)

That said, the only person who used the free WiFi was my dad, who needed to go online to read his birthday wall posts on FB. AND book us a room in a different hotel so we wouldn’t be homeless on Saturday night, since G20 took up all the weekend rooms.

Speaking of Russia messing things up, HOW ABOUT DAT EUROCUP?! Ernesto and I were constantly peeking into bars along the streets in Cabo to get the game scores all week, and the look on his face when Russia lost to Greece was pretty dang satisfying. So satisfying, in fact, that it almost made me forget that Greece > Russia was probably the only upset that I didn’t put on my 2012 EurUpset Bracket. I’m happy to see losers come out on top, but it would’ve been cool if the losers I’d wanted to win would do so. LOOKING ATCHU, THE NETHERLANDS.  What does it feel like to see my predicted 2012 Eurocup Champ get eliminated in the group phase with a grand total of Z E R O points? Sort of like this:


Spending the next few weeks watching my bracket fall into lower and lower percentile rankings won’t be so bad as long as Spain doesn’t win this thing. I swear to you over all that is dear to me, I’ll probably claw my eyes out with soccer cleats if I have to watch Spain carry a Eurocup Trophy out of that stadium.

This whole rant about my complicated feelings regarding the Eurocup was supposed to be a tweet, but well. Obviously 140 characters wasn’t going to cut it. Why do I even have a twitter? All I do is go past the character limit and creep on Amelie Gillette. No less than half of the tweets I start to type are Young Money lyrics, but I’ve managed to self-censor myself in time for each one (you’re welcome, world). 
I can tell that this is very quickly going to turn into a ranty rant, so here’s a summary of what it was like to get back in touch with the Internet after a week of webstinence (GEDDIT): 
1. Go on and hate own bracket 
2. Go on Twitter and hate own twitterature 
3. Go on Gmail and be shocked at lack of new emails since last log-in. Realize this is mostly due to the end of Carleton.
4. Go on here to see someone else articulate my feelings about graduating better than I can.
5. Go on Youtube to listen to Selena sing “Amor Prohibido” as I entertain my sadness while mourning the late and great Chicana supastar.
6. Go on Selena’s wiki and learn that George W. Bush made April 16th “Selena Day” in Texas. Gain the first inkling of sincere appreciation for the former president. Get more excited to move to Texas in a week and a half. 

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Hurray! and so forth

WELL 36 sleepless hours, 1852 words and one visual aid later, I’m done with finals. AND WITH CARLETON COLLEGE? Apparently? It’s 10:26 p.m. on June 3rd and I’ve been up since 10:30 a.m. June 2nd, so everything’s looking p r e t t y hazy, but I can say with like ninety percent confidence that this is real life and I actually turned in my last assignment and actually went to my last final and am about to actually close the last chapter of what has been a remarkable story in a remarkable place. It’s getting reaaaal sentimental up in hurr, and it doesn’t help that Prof. Appleman gave the entire EDUC344 class ACTUAL CDs with “Fast Car” on them.

Obviously, I’m listening to it on repeat and trying not to drown in my own sea of tears*. (not joking) (seriously though, this song should come with a warning from the Surgeon General)

❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ ❤ 

‘       ‘     ‘     ‘      ‘
‘   ‘   ‘       ‘    ‘   ‘ 
  ‘   ‘    ‘ ‘    ‘ ‘     ‘
‘     ‘ ‘     ‘     ‘    ‘ 
I made this Love Storm emoticon the other day, it just seems so relevant for this moment. The heart clouds are raining a storm of tears over everything, and well you know. Feeling a lot of feels right now. 
gunna go 2 sl33p now,
sorry for this post.

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Who Wants to Write My Essay for Me?

Fact: The last day of classes was on Wednesday.
Fact: I still have finals until Sunday.
Fact: It is gorgeous out. The kind of gorgeous that makes Carleton’s board of admissions say, “Quick, get a camera and take some pictures of townies on the Bald Spot so that unsuspecting prospective students will get tricked into thinking that going to school here involves enjoying the cool breeze and the green grass and soaking up the sun!”

As a spring term senior, I’ve managed to have my share of rest and relaxation for the past 10 weeks. I took sixteen credits instead of the usual eighteen, and only six of these were graded on something other than a S/Cr/NC basis. Should I be complaining? Probably not.

BUT here I am, and I’m offering you the opportunity of a lifetime! (!!!) While I go eat freezie pops and watch ARTech students breakdance on Division Street, I’m giving you the chance to help me graduate and perfect your writing skills and reinvent high school at the same time.

The golden ticket to your exciting adventure is just a click away. Just click here and type to your heart’s content.

I know what you’re thinking. Does Paulina really expect me to spend my weekend writing her essay instead of enjoying the perfect summer weather that surrounds me? Pff. I expect no such thing, which is why I’ve provided the following picture for you to print in 36x48in. Just hang it up in your workspace, and you’ll forget all about the beauty that surrounds you on this lovely first of June.

So, just write a little ditty about a high school that is a positive site for adolescence, facilitates the successful construction of identity, makes learning relevant, does not ignore the important influences of popular culture and provides a just and equitable site of learning for all students regardless of their race, gender, socioeconomic status, native language and country of origin. GO!

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State of the Paulina, Pt. 1

Paulina spots a look-alike:
1D logic: Zayn, you don’t know you’re Uncle Jesse! That’s what makes you Uncle Jesse!  
OneDirection/FullHouse are straight-laced, wholesome boy bands/families that have ONE black sheep. As you can tell from this GIF I found on a 1D tumblr, the interchangeable black sheep is Zayn Malik/Uncle Jesse. THEY ARE IDENTICAL. I keep waiting for Mary-Kate or Ashley to come out from the water on this beach scene. 

Paulina is disappointed: Following the extraordinarily sexy 30-second “preview” (<- notice the quotation marks dipped in sarcasm, they’re important) of JustinBieber’s Boyfriend video, I spent over a week in eager, eager anticipation for Youtube to release the complete version of JB music video gold. After all, if the remaining 2 minutes and 23 seconds of the video were remotely related to the first 30 seconds of blue-filtered, icy-hot tantalizing scenery, Boyfriend was shaping up to be the most seductive coming-of-age video since Jesse McCartney came out with Leavin‘. When fifty gazillion JB followers started announcing that the video was finally up, I jumped around, politely asked/ordered Ernesto to turn off whatever he was watching, clicked on the link on Twitter and took a deep breath before pressing play.  Things seemed like they were off to a good start when the video started with the scenes from the preview; the slightly frozen gears were turning (I can only assume they’re a metaphor for the love machine within JB starting to awake), the two dozen hands were reaching from nowhere to grab JB’s chest, the MJ silhouette was looking fine as ever, and THEN THE VIDEO STARTED OVER. It didn’t smoothly merge with the next part, it just started over from the Orca mating calls. And a 2:53 minute long, warm-filtered, rooftop summer days story that has NOTHING TO DO with the so-called SNEAK PEAK took over. What?!! Do you know what “sneak-peak” means?!! You don’t promise someone an ice cream cone and then give them a chili dog.

Paulina travels time: Apparently my house has Boomerang now? (It’s not a question, but I’m just so stunned that I’m questioning everything now.) Natalia and I watched a solid hour of Cartoon Network shows from way-back-when, like Dexter’s LaBOREatory and Cow and Chicken and I Am Weasel. Oh man. Do you guys remember how NOTHING LOOKED GOOD IN THE 90s? I thought I had fond, fond memories of Cartoon Network, but it turns out there were just a bunch of shiny butts and gross-looking noses all over the place. 

Paulina is proud to be an American: Last Wednesday, President Obama became the first standing U.S. president to announce his support for same-sex marriage. AND I GLADLY STAND UP! NEXT TO YOU!  #lezbehonest #thatsprettyneat (p.s. did you know there’s a groovy Beyonce version of Proud to be an American?! There ain’t no doubt, I love that woman. )

Paulina is not trendy: What the heck does ‘yolo’ mean??

Paulina hasn’t graduated yet: I’m going to just stop going on Facebook until June 9th because all I ever see are statuses and pictures of CONGRATS Class of 2012 at Anywhere But Carleton College and it’s the most depressing thing. akfjlsjdlkfjdlsdkj whyyyyyy are there still 3 weeks left of school?! why why why why why? But the bigger question is how are 400+ students and their families going to fit in the grassy spot behind Olin?! I expect a miracle, Carleton.

Overall state: B/B+