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I think we all remember THAT date, one awkward one that we wish we could forget, but doesn't seem to leave.  This was one of those dates.  In his defense, perhaps he saw it as a mere friendly outing, where chivalrous gestures are not expected.  I guess I missed that memo.

He had invited me to the movies, nothing too special or significant.  It was an action movie. Batman? Perhaps.  As my dad drove me to the theater, I remember the butterflies that come at the beginning of any relationship.  What can I say?  I liked the guy.  My dad passed me a 20 as I opened the door.  Though I didn't expect to use it, I stuffed it in my pocket.  

I met him in the lobby.  We saw a few friends and waved.  He let me order my ticket first.

"Regular admission for the 3:50 show, please."   

"Make that two," he said over my head.

I smiled.  He was going to pay for me.

"You want to split it? 10,10?"

My face must've said it all.  The ticket clerk interrupted my utter surprise. 

"You're not paying for her? You have to."

"Next time, dude."

I faked a smile and passed him my money.  We weren't going on another date; that much was clear.  

​I hate riding the subway. The noise of steel and static-ey intercom voices gives me a nauseating headache. So it was a normal train ride. Babies crying, loud cell phone conversations and the stench of sweat and corn-chips. I was sitting in the single seat, reading the Unlitter Us ads when the train stopped at Hunting Park Station. A flood of people got on, including two staggering men who were carrying duffle bags and a bottle of OE. Seconds after the door closes these two fools start arguing about killing each other. One sips on the forty to long and the other gets mad and starts yelling about a gun in his duffle bag. Now by this time people get up and start running. I didn't waste anytime to follow. I not usually a follower but when people start running I run too. So I ran. 

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It had been a very long day full of the usual stressing school activities. My mood had been unusual and my friends were having bad day and because my Beth and I are so close the mood was affecting me tremendously and I held on to false smile that would reassure her. I went through the motions of my usual day and breathed a sigh of relief when I came home. A hot shower and lotion should have made the world a much better place, but it didn't. And then I came downstairs and found my family talking and my baby sister, Marie, laughing hysterically. She ran from her chair yelling, "Hi! Hi! Hi," and smacked right into my leg where she hugged me and ran away. I sat down with my lotion and rubbed some into my bruised leg, Marie asked if she could have some and then she rubbed lotion into her legs. And my mother and I cracked up laughing at the crazy baby. Her toenails are currently blue and her fingernails are black and after this new development in her appearance she ran to my mother saying, "Mommy! Look, my fingers pretty," in a garbled version of English. And my bad mood was lifted away and replaced with an honest-to-goodness smile.

Most 9 year olds, spend their birthday, playing and having fun. Taking in presents and eating lots of cake. They spend the whole day with everyone they love showering them with love...my 9th birthday...wasn't like that.

For my 9th birthday, I chose to have a skating party. I invited all the kids from my class, as well as my family. Everyone was having fun, skating and taking. After skating around for 100 laps, I wanted to see how many of my relatives could skate. I got my dad, aunts, and cousins to join in on the fun, but mom wouldn't. So, I got a pair of skates with her, and took her out on the rink myself. At first, she was shakey but soon she was able to move on her own. Happy that she was going, I took my mother's hand and skated with her, but then things took a turn. Before I knew it, I heard "Kimberlea! Let go!", and everything go black,

I found myself, laying on the hard wood of the skating rink with a huge pressure on top of me. I didn't know what happened, until I heard myself say "mom, could you please get off of me??"
My mother had fallen down, pulled me down with her, and managed to fall on me.

That was a birthday to remember.

"Que Cera, Cera"

Well, since this is my first blog post, this may come off as more of a journal entry than a story so just bear with me.  yesterday was February 7th, a.k.a, Superbowl Sunday. Of corse there were parties to attend all over the city but i decided to go to one with my friends, the one being hosted by the girl ive had a crush on for a long time, but i'll get back to that.  Yesterday was not a day completely full of fun that i wish it had been.  A couple of days ago a dear friend of mine had fallen into a coma, and had not woken up since, and yesterday, he went completely brain dead and they ended up pulling the plug on him.  It was a heart breaking moment to have another friend snatched away from me so quickly.  I stayed i

So as I was sitting in Mr. Kay's freshman drama class Mr. Kay is teaching his students about interacting with their environment. He's throwing out these scenarios for them to act out like "Your walking barefoot across broken glass." or "Your walking in waist high jello". And then he decides to make up this scenario on the spot about degrees of an earthquake and what it feels like on a 1 to 10 scale. These poor kids would fall straight to the floor at like 5. And then 10 comes along and I turn my head for a split second and I hear them all fall to the floor. I wasn't sure if I should be worried or if it was o.k to laugh. Luckily they were all o.k and it was safe to laugh. 

Vannary's blogger: vkomsla.blogspot.com

After getting dress I grabbed his leash and headed to the door. I hooked the leash to my dogs collar and was on my way out the door. The ground was covered with dirty muddy snow and ice. I hate walking my dog in these conditions because my dog is white and he tends to get dirty very quickly.
As I walked up the street, I notice the pee spots were still visible from my last walk with my dog. I thought they would had disappeared but I was wrong. That morning I decided to walk my dog on a different street. A street I normally don't walk down. Before I walked 10 steps on the block of Homer St, I notice I mountain of dog poop on the middle of the side walk. In my mind, I wonder what kind of person would allow their dog to do such a thing and not pick it up. I step into the street to ignore the pile of poop and as I tried to step back on the side walk, the patch of grass surrounded by snow also contained a huge pile of poop.
I just decided to just walk in the street and ignore the sidewalk. As I walked in the street, I couldn't believe what had happen. I stepped in dog poop.

Dakota Foster and Ellen To

Dakota Foster and Ellen To

Dakota Foster and Ellen To

Ever since I was in first grade, I have been in love with musical performance. From the moment I stepped foot on stage in front of an audience, the rush of adrenaline has been an addiction.

In sixth grade, I met Fawn, my current best friend.  Like me, she shared the same passion for creating music and wanted desperately to find an outlet for such creativity.  I had since graduated from singing Christmas carols in the school choir and wanted to form something different; preferably a punk rock band.

Fawn and I agreed to begin working together to write songs and lyrics.  I decided to take up bass guitar while she began playing electric. We used a keyboard as a "drum machine".  After recording tons of terrible demos and playing acoustic shows at outdated coffee houses, we decided to find a real drummer.

We set out on a wild goose hunt for the perfect drummer. We made signs and hung them all over the neighborhood in hopes of a reply.  Over a month of waiting, there was still no answer.

While spending time with my other friend Ariel, also known as "Bean", I accidently discovered that she was pretty good at drumming.  We were hanging out in her house listening to music when all of a sudden, she started tapping to the beat of the song at perfect rhythm.  I quickly raced into her kitchen and grabbed a few pots and pans and two wooden spoons.  From there on, we had a brand new drummer.

After countless hours of practice, "The Expensives" were born.  This all girl, pop-punk band from Philadelphia began making headlines all over the city and playing several shows at venues including The Trocadero and Hangar 84 in Vineland, New Jersey. 

My love of music has lead me down a road of constant hustle and bustle.  However, I would not trade it for the world.  Despite a few line up changes, The Expensives are still going strong. Whether I am scrambling to sell tickets for a show, or reasoning with the police over loud noise complaints from the neighbors, my band means everything to me, and I plan on doing this for the rest of my life.