Pink ain't always sweet

Reminiscing about my childhood years, I remembered this story of when I was very young, probably around 5 or less. Because I've never pretended to have an outstanding long-term memory, a lot of details are omitted.

There was something going on inside my mouth, blisters or something hurtful. The mean doctor prescribed some sort of spray, all I remember is that it tasted like hell, and it was pink. The one moment I remember includes running as if chased by demons, and my parents following me all around the house. I must have been very fast, because it took them a while to catch up with me. I then shut my mouth tight, and as they struggled to open it, I darted through an open space and began the high-speed chase again.

When they finally caught me, 4 arms surrounded me. Defeat was inevitable. However, at the very second the spray was released into my forcibly-opened mouth, Jo (my dear stuffed bear), showed his loyalty and took the hit, as I put him in front of my face.

Loving Sin City

While I have lived in Vegas for a while, I hadn't really taken advantage of it before. Every day I had off, I'd take off for Utah, my favorite destination (although I may note that I also went to other places, but Utah was my top destination). Since I lost my license and I hadn't gotten it back yet, traveling plans have been curtailed dramatically (a situation which will hopefully be over with this week).

I have to say the plus of not traveling is all the extra money I now have. And since I live in Vegas, I have decided to take advantage of that. I have been to a few of the shows, and a few more are to come. So far, I've seen the Blue Man Group, the Beatles Love (by Cirque du Soleil), the medieval dinner show Tournament of Kings (my king was so hot I wanted to move to Russia immediately) and just two nights ago, Phantom of the Opera, which was so AMAZING!! I mean, I know the soundtrack by heart, and I was singing to every song (inside, not out loud, of course). I even cried at some point. The chandelier falling was scary, but nobody was hurt :D

So I guess living in Vegas is not all bad.

On being stress-free (at least for a few days)

What a crazy week! Oh, my heart! Several times I thought I was going to pass out of stress and fatigue. But I made it, not completely unscathed, as the knots on my shoulders are witness to.

By the way, if you want to know what hell sounds like, just stop by my ward and listen to my choir sing. Lol, I don't mean to be that mean, but seriously, what is wrong with this people? I know people can develop a talent if they sincerely desire to. So...maybe they don't desire it, or I have not enough patience. Most likely a combination of the two.

I really don't have much to tell now. I'm having an inner party, since tomorrow I will finally sleep until my bed kicks me out, go on a shopping spree with my best friend, and then watch TV until my eyes hurt. Happy Holidays!!

On not sleeping

Finals are this week. My torture ends officially in 5 days. I say officially, because my advisor has decided I'm still behind on my writing, and so I should keep working on my thesis (short for professional paper) for the rest of the holidays. If he wasn't the best professor I've found at UNLV, I'd be cursing (politely, of course) the day he was born.

So, for the second week in a row, I'm preparing for 20-hour days, which is ten times harder when you're not high on caffeine. I'm exhausted. I'm planning to slip into a comma by this time next week.

Must go and b*&tch somewhere else.

On aging

My body is playing dirty. After I finally felt like eating solids again on Wednesday, a new plague showed its ugly face: skin allergies. Never in my short life -relatively speaking, of course. Don't make me go there - had I had any kind of allergies. This was awful; it was all over, and making my life miserable. Thank goodness is winter, and I could wear long-sleeved sweaters, or people would have freaked out by the look of my swollen limbs.

So, I wonder if I am like Job of old, being tried in every single aspect of my life, including what can only be defined as modern-day itchy leprosy. Or, maybe I'm just getting old, and not in a graceful way. Oh, please, let it be the first one!

Gluttony

The dreaded all-you-can-eat holidays are here! And I took advantage of them on Friday night, when I piggied out on turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy. Since divine punishment is always wise, I got up at 3 am yesterday to throw up everything I had eaten, and a whole lot more. I said that was wise, because I had to wake up not shortly afterward to get ready for my temple way-too-early-in-the-morning shift. So I didn't have to go back to bed after leaving some of my internal organs in the toilet, I got to get ready to leave for the day (PLEASE note the sarcasm).

Way to teach me a lesson on gluttony, heaven! I will keep that in mind for the following month and a half.

A Christmas miracle

You remember this post in July, when I was on the verge of suicide due to my failed attempt to perform decently with my ward choir? Well, this month I decided to repent of my neglect, and started holding regular choir practices again. The pianist wisely dissuaded me from singing in unison, and I chose a couple of Christmas songs to begin with. Trust me, I chose the easiest songs from the LDS hymnbook. And now the most unbelievable thing has happened: a lot of people have showed up for practice (the most I've had in those practices, actually), and we're singing all 4 parts...beautifully!! It is a Christmas miracle indeed.

My logical reasoning then leads me to the following conclusion: if you're not doing so well in a particular calling, abandon it for 3 months, and then amazing things will happen.

Waiting for the splash

Thanks to some recommendations from a couple of friends, I decided to go see the Blue Man Group show this week. Because of the trailers I had seen from the show, I guess I had incredibly high expectations. I even got tickets in the fourth row from the stage, which is called the Poncho section. They post on their website that they "strongly suggest that you do not wear clothing that you consider nice or valuable," and they even provide everyone on the section with ponchos.

I must admit that I decided not to wash my hair that day, in preparation for the supposedly "messy" night that was awaiting me. I eagerly put my poncho on the minute I reached my seat and, at some point during the show, where it looked like a multicolor rain was about to reach me, I excitedly uncovered my hair. But alas!, the show was interrupted at that very second by some 'late arrivals', which I strongly suspect were all just part of the show.

I'm still waiting to get wet. I guess I'll have to wait until it rains in Vegas.

Disclaimer: Aside from the fact that it probably won't get messy, the show is still very good, and it provides with a good almost 2 hours of laughing. I did not get paid to write the above review.

Pepe

Today I was reminded of Pepe. All the memories came flooding back. He and I spent so much time together, I felt it my duty to share our story with the world, which came to an abrupt end.

I first met Pepe while I was in my mission in Guatemala. He came to me while I was playing with cats on the street, and remained there for about 6 months. No matter how hard I tried, Pepe stayed; he loved me that much. No matter what the nurse gave me, it faded away for a little while, only to suddenly come back with reborn love.

Yes, Pepe was a ring worm on my left arm. I don't know how it suddenly died during my first couple of weeks back home. But even the cool scar he left me has faded by now, leaving me with only a heart full of memories (romantic background song). Oh, Pepe, you were definitely my favorite pet in the mission! How I miss you!

Nebraska

Rural towns are depressing. I cannot wait to get back to Vegas. I'm flying back in a couple of hours.

Again and again, I strongly feel I should build a high tower, and isolate myself in it until prince charming comes to rescue me. I would have very long hair, and awesome wallpaper on the walls...That is how depressing Corn Land is.

There is no need to say more. I have disturbed everyone enough.

Emoed up

I had a coupon for a hair salon, which I decided to use this week. I called and set up an appointment. I had only 30 minutes to spare that day. I was astonished the minute I walked in by the amount of tattoos on everyone inside; I could barely see their faces, or their real skin color, for that matter. It was a little freaky, I must admit. An emo guy introduced himself to me (it was the first time I see an emo smile, I may add). It took him a whole hour to finish with my hair, while I heard extremely weird conversations all around me (about Hooter tank tops, and many other adult-content topics). To make things worse, my hair ended up looking like my stylist's at the end of that hour. It was clear to me then why there were coupons available for this place.

Needless to say, he got no tip, and they lost a customer.

Make-up attempt

A double feature today, since I didn't write last Sunday. In my defense, I was driving back from SLC, after enjoying a lovely General Conference, and after the emotional turmoil that losing my wallet brought along. Ironic that I loose my wallet here, while I have never lost in Honduras, where people get mugged on a daily basis. Disclaimer: Honduras is still a beautiful country, and if you haven't yet, you should go visit. Just give me a call first, so I can give you the "safe" tour (Yeah, also call me after May next year, when I will be back there).

I got a severe case of "summeritis." I apparently had such a great time over my 3-month vacation, that I refuse to go back to my work-hard routine. A classmate even told me last week that I'd been slacking off! Me? The most responsible person on earth?! How dare he?! But it is true. And all the traveling I've been doing, and continue to do since summer ended, well, it just goes to prove that I'm not willing to give up on all the fun.

And because, according to Yahoo! news, it is not safe to share my traveling plans in public, I will definitely not write about my upcoming trip this month. Ha! Now you won't know!

A chance for a new life

No, no epiphany of how my life changes drastically, and I turn into a new me. No, I just lost my wallet last week in SLC, and now must get everything new, after giving up on a good soul finding it, and returning it to me.

I did not realize I had lost it until about an hour later, and after driving around looking for it for about 40 minutes, decided to drive to the bank and cancel my cards. I'm getting my stuff back little by little, except for a few that were irreplaceable (gift card from Barnes & Noble included, which I was saving for a future precious book).

Lesson learned: Never leave your wallet on top of the car while filling up the gas tank. And if you do leave it there, do not forget to pick it up before you get back in the car. Never, never, never do that.

Uhhhh....

This not knowing what to write about is becoming a habit. How annoying it is that nothing interesting is going on. Well, let me correct that. There are a lot of interesting things happening, but none that I want to share through this very public outlet. No offense to those avid readers, not that I think there are that many of you out there. Mind you, I will remember you first when I become famous for my writings. Or when I finally take over the world, whichever happens first.

I would love to keep writing nonsense, but I need to get a million things done before I crash. I had virtually no time to do anything today. It reminds me of Honduras, and all those meetings on Sunday, which left me exhausted. Anyway, I just remembered I said I was signing off, so Au revoir!

Happy Birthday Honduras!!

This Wednesday it was Independence Day in Honduras. I felt overly patriotic (my facebook page an overwhelming testimony to this), wore the national colors all day, ate typical food, and wished I had watched the independence parade, even though I have never watched it in person or on TV. In fact, while in Honduras, I used that day to catch up on sleep.

Surprising what you can think about when you are nostalgic. Still, Viva Honduras! Mi pais 5 estrellas!

A salty experience

A friend came from Honduras to spend his summer vacations in Utah. He soon learned he needed to include more anatomical expressions in his vocabulary.

During an activity, a toddler, son of a friend of his, came running to him, saying a word he didn't understand, and holding something between his thumb and forefinger. My friend lovingly bent and opened his mouth, so that his little friend could put in his mouth what he had been holding. He found it had a bitter, yet salty taste. It wasn't long before he realized what the meaning of "booger" is.

Answering the phone in dog land

If you speak Spanish, you answer the phone with "Alo", which is a hispanized (Is this even a word? It is now, I so declare it) way of the English "Hello". I like to be different, and so always answer with "Hola". In French, it is "Alo", of course with that distinctive beautiful French accent, that makes non-francophones believe you're choking or something. In Italian, you say "Pronto", and in German, you say "Hallo!", with a rude accent, that makes people think you've just sentenced them to death. I really don't know enough about other languages, to make a statement about phone courtesy.

However, if you call a certain Argentinian friend of mine, you may think it was her dog getting the phone. When I called a couple of hours ago, she answered "Guau", which in Spanish reads as "wow", and is the Spanish sound for dogs (yes, dogs also speak different languages).

So, maybe I'll start answering the phone these days with a very distinctive "Meowwww", followed by a 5-second purr.

Dullness

Being back in school means nothing exciting is going on in my life, other than routine (or getting used to a new routine for this semester, that is). New friends, new teachers, new schedule, new classes, but it won't be long before all is left is stress, stress and...you guessed right, stress.

If you are one of my LDS friends, I should tell you that I was called yesterday as assistant to the coordinator in my temple shift on Saturday morning, thus curtailing travel plans made for the near future (I was planning to go to San Francisco for Labor Day; forget about it now). I figure it was either that or releasing me as a temple worker, considering all the Saturdays off I take to go on little road trips all across the country. Well, I hope they're happy, I'm becoming a hermit.

I have to go now. I must get to....wait, I was doing nothing. Nevermind. I just have to go and be dull somewhere else.

13...bad luck?

I have embarked on an adventure to know, and go inside, as many LDS temples as possible. The updated list, so far, looks like this, in no particular order:

1. San Jose Costa Rica
2. Guatemala City Guatemala
3. Mexico City Mexico
4. Denver Colorado
5. Las Vegas Nevada
6. St. George Utah
7. Jordan River Utah
8. Salt Lake City Utah
9. Bountiful Utah
10. Provo Utah
11. Oquirrh Mountain Utah
12. Chicago Illinois
13. Nauvoo Illinois

The list stops there. Not that I'm superstitious, but since we drove exactly into a dark glooming storm, and feared for my life, on last Friday the 13th (on our way to Nauvoo, I may add, which is probably why we survived; it was a holy endeavor), I can't help but think I need to make that number 14 soon, and real soon. So I'm planning a quick one-day trip to the closest new temple to me; I was thinking Snowflake, Reno or Manti, whichever is closer. I still wonder if 13 is an unlucky number when counting temples, though.

When Kat doesn't know what to write about

The summer weather in Chicago reminds me so much of Honduras, that I'm seriously considering not going back next year. No matter how long I live in a warm climate, I could never get used to it.

I have one more week of summer before the next semester starts. I'm screaming my lungs out, on the inside. I love to travel, and hate that I have to go back home in a few days. Well, at least there's only one more month of scorching heat in Vegas.

I've been dreaming for a while about eating a falafel. And learning to speak Arabic. And call me crazy, but my dream vacations are a safari in Africa, and a tour of the Middle East. I guess I am a risk-lover, in my own eccentric way.

The power of my curses

Beware of crossing me. A good friend made a comment on my facebook wall (only the most public place of all...unforgivable), about me not being innocent (how dare anybody think that?). I replied with: "I hope you get food poisoning today." About 4 hours later, he was playing soccer, and broke a bone in his left foot. He was taken to a hospital, and has had a couple of surgeries since. He's still in recovery, about 2 months later. I did not know voicing the deepest desires of my heart would be so effective.

Misunderstanding

I will now write a story that's not my own but that it's worth sharing with the world, as you will soon realize. Disclaimer: the following story contains sensitive material regarding illegal immigrants. If you feel strongly against them, as do I, please refrain from reading, as I will never disclose their true identities (as much as I disagree with what they are doing, I still get along with them; I am that much of an angel).

My friend, Maria Encarnacion de los Angeles (of course the name has been changed, no one in their right mind would keep such a name) came to the US on a tourist visa, but decided to stay after her permit expired. Her husband, Guadalupe Natividad Asuncion, however, was a legal resident. Once, they were cruising around Kansas City (of course, these details have been changed as well), and Lupe was being a reckless driver, as usual when it comes to men (Hey, don't hate me; it's the truth). He was dying to get ahead of this slow driver in front of their lane, and was dreaming of a million mean things he could do to get him out of the way. Encarnacion, being the mature lady that she is, kept telling Lupe to keep his cool. 'You never know,' she said, 'it might be the police, and you know I can't afford to get pulled over by the police.'

Eventually, after Lupe's pressure went up to around 800, and one of the veins on his forehead threatened to pop at any minute, they passed the driver who, for Lupe, had come from the deepest pits of hell. As they passed the car, Lupe asked Encarnacion to check if it was, in fact, a police car. Encarnacion sighed in relief as she exclaimed, 'No, we're lucky, it's not the police, but it says BOR-DER-PA-TROL.'

Procrastination

Whose dumb idea was it to have classes during summer? Behold!, my latest list:

How not to catch up with endless schoolwork

1. Who says you can only go out on weekend nights? There are incredible deals on clubs on Wednesday and Thursday nights. Dance til you drop, and sleep in the next day.
2. Initiate a Harry Potter movie marathon. Nothing beats Hogwarts.
3. Remember that useless gadget you've been meaning to buy? Yep, once you get up at noon on Thursday, collect equally lazy friends, and go on a shopping spree.
4. Piggy out on all your favorite snacks. Come Sunday night, weep uncontrollably and vow to start a diet the next day.

Too tired to keep blogging.

No life left after Lost

I never thought I'd say this, but there's actually a better show than Alias. Oh yes, and that is Lost. I have devoted pretty much every spare minute I have had for the last 2 months to watch every single episode from seasons 1 to 5. I finally finished on Tuesday night, and now I'm anxiously waiting for the season 6 DVD to be released on August 23rd...waiting, waiting, waiting. Meanwhile, my life doesn't make much sense until I figure out what finally happened to all the hot guys in that island.

I'm in withdrawal. I desperately need a new addiction. Any suggestions?

Harder than rock

During my time as a missionary, I turned a 10-people unison "choir" into a 30+ 3-part district choir, in a matter of 2 months. I consider that one of the miracles I have witnessed in my lifetime. However, I had a wonderful musical companion and the strong influence of the Holy Ghost.

Why was I just reminiscing about those marvelous mission times? Because around 3 months ago, I was called as the choir director for my ward. We sang our first number a few weeks later during sacrament meeting, and it was a hit. People kept asking me how to join. I thought I was blessed to have yet another miracle in my hands. But fate, as usual, seems to hate me. Today we had our first rehearsal since that day (I was on a very long summer trip), and I felt like crying my heart out. But, never fear, I have come up with the perfect solution: we will keep singing songs in unison, and everything will be fine.

I was going to turn this into an awesome choir. Yeah, right, what was I thinking?

Repentance

Some new year's resolutions are plain stupid. Why would I make myself write weekly on a blog? I'm still tired from so much traveling, and wish I could sleep 24/7. But, alas! I must return to school on Tuesday, and I helplessly watch my last hours of bliss slip by. In the meantime, I am devoting as much time as possible to my newest project: watch all seasons of Lost. Admittedly, it's taking more time than I thought it would, but it's certainly worth it.

So, forgive me for not writing more.

The summer chronicles saga

Ah, Salt Lake City. The charm of Lalaland! What is it about this place that makes me want to move here every time I visit? Perharps it is the heat...Nah, that can't be it, I live in Vegas. Maybe it is the sister missionaries following me all around Temple Square, asking for a referral...no, I don't think that's it either.

Maybe because it might just be the only city where drivers actually respect speed limits? But I like to speed, so that can't be it. Or maybe all the kids running and screaming everywhere I look? Maybe my inner mother (my very very very hidden inner mother) can somehow relate to this mayhem.

In the end, it's probably all my dear friends from Honduras that live here. I don't know, could be.

The curse of the really old cellphone

Remember when I wrote about my car being possessed? (Here, refresh your memory). He has since turned his life around, and has gladly taken me from Vegas to Denver, and from there to SLC.

It seems, however, that I am constantly surrounded by faulty electronics. The culprit this time: my very old cellphone, a Motorola VWXYZ (what the heck do I know what it is, but trust me, it's very old). It has decided to turn itself off whenever he feels like it, the darn thing. I have to tiptoe around it, I'm so scared it won't let me go around my daily routine.

I live in my own version of 'I, Robot', when gadgets aim to take possession of my life. S.O.S.!!

Tired of vacationing

I never thought I'd live to say it, but I'm tired of traveling already. Driving for 12 hours to get to Denver last week, although with a beautiful scenery all along, was exhausting. I'm finally getting a day's worth of rest while in this my beloved city. I guess I just miss my daily routine.

I'm too tired to write more. Let's all cheer for Honduras on Wednesday, when they play against Chile (I'm sure to round up some enemies by saying I don't think our team will make it past the first round. They're very good, but do not perform well under pressure. Oh, well, cross your fingers).

Oh, yeah, guys still remain a mistery to me. Or maybe I just keep having a bad luck streak.

More important than life itself

I came back from Austin last night. As I was in line to board my first plane, I panicked as I realized I did not have my cellphone with me. Then I remembered where I had left it...in Austin, of course. Considering my love for lists, here is my latest one:

Why not having a cellphone is the worst thing that can happen

1. All my numbers are stored in my phone. I don't know anybody's number but mine. How could I call someone in Austin to ask about my phone?
2. How the heck was I going to get a ride back home, if I didn't remember my friend's number?
3. How am I going to wake up in the morning, if I can't set up my alarm?
4. A calculator is no longer at the tip of my hands. Am I supposed to do simple arithmetic operations by myself now?
5. How are people supposed to contact me? And how can I call anyone, on that matter?

I can safely assume that if it wasn't because of facebook, I could just simply disappear from social interactions altogether. Why couldn't I just leave my passport? That would have been more convenient.

However, do not fear. My precious is coming back to me sometime this week. Thank goodness!

No magic in Disney

Last week my summer vacations kicked off with a trip to Orlando, to visit Disney. Why I bothered to go all the way to Florida when I could have driven to Cali, is still a mistery to me. I guess I missed the crazy hot humid weather that I have had the pleasure of not "enjoying" since I moved to Las Vegas last year.

Here are some highlights of this "lovely" week:

1. My jungle hair: I have abundant hair, which becomes even more so with humidity. I missed being Tarzan Jane, I guess.

2. Constantly changing stations: Scorching heat in the morning, followed by an epic storm at noon, followed by more heat and sweat in the afternoon, followed by even more rain at night.

3.Ah, the never ending charm of a mouse, a duck, a dog, and whatever Goofy is!

Dirty Dancing

Last night a friend dragged me to a dance for old people. The most attractive man there was the DJ, who didn't seem that old. I, of course, approached him and we exchanged a few words. He's not married, so cross your fingers; with my love of music, a DJ and me would be a match made in heaven. One of the few songs I recognized was The Hustle, and not much else. I wonder if Grandma would have enjoyed this dance a lot more than me. Great self-esteem booster, though. I feel soooo young now.

Such an activity could never be boring, even if I wasn't dancing. This people have a strange affinity for extremely large dancing circles (I'm talking about 30 or more people occupying half the dance floor), and watching old men trying to breakdance is priceless. I will go to one of these dances again, oh yeah, and next time I am bringing my video camera.

PS: On some very exciting news, my @ is finally working again! Don't ask me how.

Persistence

About a month ago, I quoted a message in my inbox from this kid who wanted to start a serious relationship. Refresh your mind by reading the said post again. I just got another message from him, in what can only be cited as an extraordinary example of persistence. Good for you, kid! One day you'll find a virtual girlfriend. Please read:

"Don't be shy to let me know if you're interested in exploring possibilities for a r/ship...(excerpt omitted for privacy's sake). If you're interested, (email address, phone number) are my contacts. I will be waiting."

I wonder if a girl has already succumbed to his charm.

Is there such a thing as a professional traveler?

I love to travel. I really do. Every year I go to a new country, except while living in the U.S., since there are many new places to visit here. Among my favorite cities so far are San Francisco, CA; Toronto, ON; San Jose, Costa Rica; and, of course, beautiful Denver! I love airports, and running through them to catch my next plane (the environmentalist within me feels bad I love flying so much, since airplanes leave a huge carbon footprint behind them). And, apparently, I have as much fun packing. I am moving to a new place this week (YAYYYY!!!), and I'm having the time of my life, packing my meager belongings. So much fun, I won't write any more, so I can get back to it.

The curse of the white Impala

I think Whitey hates me. He's (the darn car deserves to be called a "he") been making weird noises whenever I drive to one of my favorite friends' house, but I disregarded that. Yesterday morning, as I was running late to an appointment, all I heard was a click every time I turned the ignition key. Fighting the temptation to curse all vehicles, I went back inside my house and prayed for the darn thing to work. And voila! 15 minutes later, he finally and graciously let me drive him. When I had another friend look at him, there was nothing wrong. Later in the afternoon, several warning lights were flashing simultaneously on the dashboard, but I ignored them. No way that devilish car was going to keep me from my errands. So I decided to drive him to Church today. As I grabbed all my stuff, and headed for the door, I couldn't find the car key. I'm a very, very, very organized person, and I don't generally lose things, and never something as important as a car key. I looked for it for over 30 minutes, in the most unimaginable places. I still cannot find it. My car is possessed.  

The most stupid ticket story

While enduring my bus-taking torment during my first month in Vegas, I realized I had less than 2 minutes to make it to the bus stop before the bus, and waiting for the pedestrian light to go green was not going to cut it. So I looked both ways, saw no car in like half a mile, and ran for it. I made it perfectly fine, but I failed to notice the cop in a motorcycle hiding behind the bushes. As I ran for the bus stop, he caught up with me and told me he had seen me jaywalking. As my only concern at the moment was not to miss the bus, since I was not looking forward to waiting for 30 minutes for the next one (in some dubious company, I may add), I did not argue it. When he finally issued the ticket, I frantically took it, thanked him (my generous nature knows no limits), and ran for dear life to the stop. I had made it. However, I also made it into the record book as the only person in the US who's ever got a jaywalking ticket.

While waiting for the bus...

The craziest things in life happen in bus stops. If you have never ridden one; man, are you missing on a lot of exciting experiences! On my last bus trip here in Vegas, I was so excited that I was going to get my car. Destiny, apparently, sensed how memorable that occassion was, too, and decided to give me one more creepy experience. The following is a true account of what happened to me next.

I had to transfer buses, and I got off at a central bus station. My next bus had already left, so I had to wait for almost 30 minutes. As I was walking around, a strange-looking man stood in front of me and said: "Que bonita estas!" I stared back and said nothing. He then said: "Hablas español?" I realized I had blown my cover when I said "No". However, I refused to say anything else. He kept flirting with me in Spanish, while I kept insisting I couldn't understand him and moved away.

I walked over to a bench in front of my bus door, and sat down to read. Once, I looked up from the book, and noticed the same man seating on a bench next to me, staring. Realizing how blessed I was for being in the midst of a very populated place, I tried to focus on my reading again. Happily, the bus came not long afterwards, and as I got in line to get on it, creepy man stood 3 feet away from me, and kept saying how I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, while I cursed all ignorant men in my head. Never before had I been happier to get on a bus than that day, and never before had I seen my cute white Impala as one of the largest blessings in my life.

Unfulfilled prophesy?

A couple of months before I moved to Vegas, I quit my job as a professor, and started working as a freelance teacher at a language school, teaching...guess what? Yeah, English. I loved working there, because most of my colleagues had very interesting backgrounds. They were from or had lived in many different parts of the world, and hanging out with them was always exciting.

I used to talk a lot with the guy who was my immediate supervisor; he was a unique character, and I suspect he had a crush on me...but I could be wrong. Anyway, when I told him I was only going to work for them until the end of July, he seemed very disappointed (I have been blessed with the gift of public speaking, which makes me an awesome teacher...sorry, I didn't mean to sound pretentious there). When I told him I was moving to Vegas to go to school, his face twisted into a sarcastic grin, and said: "Vegas is going to eat you alive."

HUH!! I proved him wrong!! Or did I?

The Pizza Godmother

My at symbol is still not working. I have tried many things, and I'm now on the verge of desperation. Having to google "at symbol", or ask a friend to send me an "at" during a chat session, is getting old. Any kind of suggestions would do at this point. PLEASE.

Now for my story of the week. A sister in church suddenly started befriending me. I was glad my popularity level was ever increasing. A couple of weeks later, she asked if I would be her son's godmother for his 6th grade graduation. I felt flattered, and obviously agreed to do it. However, during the week, another pressing commitment came up, and so I called to say I could still go to the ceremony, but not the afterparty. To that, she said: "Well, you're still bringing the pizza, aren't you?" Apparently, an essential duty of a 6th grader's godmother is the provision of pizza for the party. Just giving you a heads up on this, in case you ever get asked.

Mrs. African Kat

The following is a message from my inbox, where substantial information has been omitted for the sake of good manners:

"I count it a great opportunity to be able to write to you. I am from  (African country), now pursuing a master's of (altruistic, yet boring) degree at (American LDS University...Gee, I wonder which university that is?). I am on a look for a sister, who is interested in exploring possibilities for a love, relationship, and hopefully a temple marriage. If this meets your interests, don't be shy to let me know so we can get started. A good place to get a quick picture of who I am is through sending me a face book invitation (full name). I will add you, and there you will have access to my albums. Then later on we can speak over the phone (full phone number), then plan on meeting. Let me know, if this something you want to try. I will be waiting."

Kat Trump

Today, a beloved sister at Church sat next to me, and asked: "So, what does your father do in Honduras?" I told her he is an insurance broker, and that he owns a company, and one of my brothers works for him (the only one he could lull into it; insurance is SO boring). To that, she replied: "Oh, I asked because I heard a rumor that you are rich." My responding laughter was heard in a 3-mile radius.

Afterwards, someone asked how I had come to know about music (I'm no Mozart, but I do know a bit more than the average citizen), to which I answered I had private tutors...Yes, private tutors, as rich people usually have.

As I continued to ponder on these events, I realized I drive a nice car, and have my own office in town, even though I don't have a job. Furthermore, I am probably the only latina in the world who has absolutely no family in the U.S. That must mean they are so filthy rich they need not visit me.

So... I guess I am rich.

Fun things to do instead of sleeping

I was so sleep deprived this week. You'd say, "Well, you're a graduate student. That is only to be expected." However, it was not an endless number of readings and research papers that kept me from my daily beautifying rest, but a list of other activities that are WAY more fun than studying. Behold!, things to do while others are sleeping:
1. Facebook stalking. You need to know more about certain people, and so decide to scan their photos, and make up a personality profile from that. You may have heard of this activity as "Facebook Searching".
2. Talk about an endless number of things, which turn into nonsense as you go deeper into the early hours of the morning.
3. Watch YouTube music videos of songs you think will fit perfectly into your voice. 
4. Let someone tinker with your computer, until you are completely unable to find the "at" symbol in your keyboard (Can somebody please help me with that? I can't write my email address!).
5. Watch Indiana Jones DVDs while intermittently passing out in your couch.

Oh, Spring Break, where art thou?

Random Sabbath thoughts

As I prepare for the grand opening of this marvelous blog, I realized I did not feel inspired to write about anything today, so I will just share a bunch of non-related thoughts about nothing.

I have come to realize that if I stop eating, I suddenly have more money. Not only that, but if I stop sleeping, I have just enough time to do everything that needs to be done (barely). So, if you're ever in need of one of those, you know what to do.

I have decided it is virtually impossible to understand boys. It's not like they're from Mars. If we're from Venus, they're in a whole different galaxy. Eventually, though, one of us girls gets lucky enough to run into an experimented space traveler, who has gotten acquainted with our ways, and knows how to treat us, without losing their identity in the process.

When kidnapping a toy gun, make sure you never disclose your identity, and that you demand an adequate ransom (Fear of legal consequences prevents me from revealing more, but I can share more private details if you're interested; leave a comment).

To be continued...

Meet Whitey

I seriously hate to drive. My latest story should demonstrate how bad I do.

I was glad that I had student status here, and a valid excuse not to have a car. After all, I do not have here the social status I had back home. Then again, I also don't have a job.

I have strayed from the topic, but here is when I get back on. I hated driving the bus. This was nothing like Denver. The people riding the bus are mostly (how to say it nicely?)... sketchy. I got tired of being hit on by men with golden teeth, excessive facial hair or with the potential to be my third-generation ancestor. So I decided to stop eating and save enough money to buy a car. Any piece of junk would do, as long as it kept me away from bus stops.

And so I did. I bought a car 2 months ago. But when did I actually drive it for the first time? You'd say "Duh! 2 months ago, obviously!". I say no, keep guessing. "1 month?", you say. Nope, go on. "2 weeks?" as you raise your eyebrows. And I finally answer, Nope. I just drove it for the first time 4 days ago, after I had run out of every conceivable excuse I could come up with. I will not elaborate; they were valid excuses, but none that would ordinarily make my determination falter.

Don't get me wrong, I love the freedom to move around that an automobile provides. However, why can't it drive itself? I wonder if Kit from "Knight Rider" would consider being my car if I promised to give him a more manly name. In the meantime, I just contemplate the possibility of ever having enough money to have a cute car, and an even cuter driver to take me wherever I want to go.

My top 10 dirty secrets

Even I am not that shameless, so there are still some secrets I won't write about yet. But these are the ones I mustered the courage to share.
1. Although a faithful LDS and a Utah lover, I hate the Jazz, and love the Denver Nuggets.
2. There was a time when I swore I would never even consider living in the US.
3. I watched Sex and The City, both the series and the movie. I have now repented.
4. I want to have children, but not sure I want to go through the physical strains of pregnancy. Does anyone know about any breakthroughs in “baby technology”?
5. I memorized most of the episodes of “Saved by the Bell” when I was a teenager. I’m pretty sure a cheap collection of most of those episodes sits in the back of my bookshelf back home.
6. I am really sensitive about my hair, and I pray every day that nothing bad will ever happen to it. My self-esteem sinks every time I have a bad hair day, which lately seems to be happening more and more frequently.
7. Sometimes I feel stupid, because I have a very bad memory.
8. I cry more than I want to admit it. Luckily, I am quite unable of shedding tears, so unless you notice my watery eyes, you would never know I’m crying.
9. Every week, while watching The Biggest Loser, I vow to be more physically active and to push myself like those obese guys on TV. I forget about it the next day.
10. I’ve been called preppy many, many times ... and I love it.

At this point, I realize I feel so relieved to finally have all these secrets out in the open, that I want to go on.
11. I hate driving. If I had the money, I’d have a driver.
12. I never wanted to become an environmentalist, I kinda stumbled upon it. I always wanted to be an interpreter, and that’s why I learned 4 languages.
13. I am so proud and (allegedly) so self-reliant that I hate asking for favors. E.g. I’ve been known for walking amazingly long distances, just because I wouldn’t ask for a ride.
14. I am a TV-aholic. I have watched TV for hours and hours on end (ah, the days!). However, if I’m reading a book during commercials, I don’t feel like I’m wasting my time.

To read or not to read

Reading is one of my passions. Great hobby, although a bit expensive, particularly for my parents when I was a kid. Bookstores in my home country are not...let’s say...en vogue. All they have are books from Paulo Coelho, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Isabel Allende, Spanish translations of self-help books and textbooks. Not being a big fan of either of those books, and having read all the books in my parents’ bookshelf - including an encyclopedia on pregnancy and motherhood, another note to my future husband ;) - my dad became a member of Club de Lectores, a Spaniard club, who would send him monthly catalogs of books. I cherished the days when my dad would bring me the catalog, and asked me to choose which books I wanted him to order. I had to restrain myself from not ordering the whole thing.

I remember once, Dad came home for lunch carrying 2 books, fresh from Spain. I vividly remember the titles: “The Dead Poets’ Club”, and “Dying Young”. He was beaming as he handed them to me, and said “Enjoy”. His first premature wrinkle appeared that night when, as he came back home from work, I said: “I’m done with those 2 books you brought earlier. Didn’t you get any more?” That was probably the moment he dismissed any dreams of wealth he might have ever had. 

Reading turned me into a freak in my home country. Apparently, the only books people read there are textbooks. Hence, people would always ask what class I was studying for whenever they saw me reading a book. I felt much better, though, while living in Denver, and everyone would be reading a book while riding the bus or the train. I felt like I was finally among my own. However, living in Vegas made me realize I may be more alone than I thought. My first month here I had to ride the bus more than I wished to. A lot of latinos also ride the bus. That’s when I realized the non-reading habit is a latin epidemic. One man asked me while on a bus stop: “Is that the Bible you’re reading?” Seriously?! Is that the only book you have ever heard of? What has the world come to?!

Uchtdorf:1 - Kat:0

Once I was exchanging interesting emails with a guy I had met a few years back, and he was from a different country, not far from where I lived. We had not interacted much when we met, and he wasn’t that memorable (I don't know why, he was VERY good-looking), since I had to ask a friend to refresh my memory when he started chatting with me, as I had no idea how I had met him. I still can’t remember him, but a certain picture that show both of us in the same group convinced me that I had, in fact, met him. For the purpose of this story, let’s call him Alan.

Things started to get quite interesting between Alan and me. We talked about visiting each other, and see where things were going. We were making plans. We were exchanging pictures. I could bet we would look great together. Then it all happened.

He was to be a bodyguard for Elder Dieter Uchtdorf when he visited his country that month. Not everyone gets to say they hung out with one of the Twelve on a regular basis, but Alan did. He even sent me a picture when they were together. Darn, I was so envious already, and dying to move to his country, and chill with Church leaders myself.

After a few days, I got this email, and I quote: “He (E. Uchtdorf) told me he was going to find me a wife...During a conference, he pointed to a sister...and told me that she was the one I had to look for...” To make this heartbreaking story short, she accepted his invite, even though she claims she would never go out with someone she didn’t know, but that she felt E. Uchtdorf was talking directly to her, and recognized him (Alan) when he asked her out. Apparently, E. Uchtdorf was really inspired that day, since they started to date officially some 10 days later, got married soon thereafter, and have a nice family now.

I know it’s not right to have bad feelings about one of the Anointed, but I couldn’t help it. Trips were going to be made soon, marital status were going to change (potentially), lives were going to change. Granted, some lives did change, just not mine, which is the most important one. How could he do this to time, a faithful member of the Church? But I'm happy to report that thanks to the YSA fireside where he was the guest speaker last year, I have now forgiven him. I wish to meet him, so he can “find me” a husband.