Chapter 1: Senioritis, Señoritis, and All of the Above

In retrospect, starting a blog during the beginning of summer vacation, when I am forced to return to the place where internet connectivity goes to die, was not the best idea. Three months worth of Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathons and cuddling with an insane, overweight chihuahua aren't exactly newsworthy anyway.
 Between moving in with Maria and Heather, starting my final senior semester of college and mourning the loss of a relationship whose time span lasted only as long as that of a gestating infant (cruel irony?), it's pretty safe to say that the mood swings I will be experiencing within the next few months will be legendary. Insert days upon days of listening to Robyn's Dancing On My Own and Googling Jane Austen quotes because...Let's face it, bitches know what they're talking about.

On a lighter note, tonight is the night that I will scratch one of the most life-altering scribbles off my bucket list. Tonight, I will meet the Hanson brothers. Tonight, I will make direct eye contact with Taylor Hanson as he sings Mmmbop. Tonight, I will probably leave Antone's in Austin with a plethora of bruises from each time I tried to throw myself on the stage. Tonight, I will make sure that I never again use "tonight" as many times as I did in this paragraph.
My curling iron is calling my name, so it looks like I'll be cutting this entry a bit short. I won't get a second glance from TayHan if I show up looking like a lost sewer rat.
Stay tuned, more overt sarcasm, insults and Degrassi moments to come.

Introduction: Me in Non-Fiction

Few people think they can scrape together enough material from their day-to-day lives to put together a short story, let alone an entire blog. Then again, they aren't a pale, scrawny 21-year-old with an Amélie-style haircut and thick, black framed glasses who has a fantastic wardrobe and a mouth like a trucker.
So, hopefully I'm the exception.
To say the life I lead is comical is a bit of an understatement. With friends like mine, everything is a bit of an understatement. My two best friends Maria and Heather are the closest thing I have to family since I moved away from the small border town in South Texas that I'd lived in my entire life, in order study the dying art of journalism.
Maria, with her hay-colored hair and bright blue eyes, loves to be the center of attention. As many compliments as she gets from men and women alike, no one compliments Maria more than Maria herself, but don't be fooled; her heart is as gold as El Dorado.
Heather, on the other hand, is a reddish-brown haired Amazon of a woman with the prettiest green eyes you'll ever see. I'd love to say I'm a no-nonsense individual, but Heather's tough-as-nails personality would leave me sniveling in a corner. In other words, she's my kind of woman.
Not to leave my love life unaccounted for, my unconventionally handsome but brusque-mannered boyfriend, Adam, has been the king of my daydreams for a few months now. Though my good sense (namely, Maria and Heather) tells me that dating a person who lives three hours away is more than difficult (something I'm already well aware of, as you'll learn later), I can't be stopped. Adam is the Diego Rivera to my Frida Kahlo...you know, without all the promiscuity and the unibrow.
With all main introductions being made, it's time to cut to the chase; this blog is me, my loved ones, and my life (all unfortunate incidents included) in non-fiction.
Ya dig?