Oh my god that poor snail melted

Well hello there everyone.
This is just a picture of a snail that resembles how I am feeling right now:
and therefore deprived the time to write a beautiful post for you to read.
And so,
without further adieur
before you lies the beauty of many stressed out animals.
Animals that both resemble me phisically at this moment in time, and mentally.

See but one day, one beautiful day, my school work will be oh so very completed, to which I, Lily, will jump in the air and scream, KAWABUNGA MEEEE JOLLY RANCHERRR PIEEEE!!!!!!!

I hope you all hear it from how ever many miles away you are!

Right NOW I amlike this CAT.

                                                          I am starting to... you know, LOOSE MY MIND.

This cat is starting to look like me...

And the more I look at this picture the more unsure I am as to what the heck it is. 


A Potential Adventure in January

Here is an adventure sheet me and my bud Sara made one day... I laughed while reading it simply because we were just so freaking desperate for some type of adventure. Also, I vaguely remember being really enthusiastic about it. I guess I was trying to make my own personal ImprovEverywhere assignment. 

Lily and Sara Subway Adventure                                                 January 31, 2011

Toilet paper roll


Metro card
  1. Walk to the subway.
  2. Walk to the right for 5 minutes and take the first train that comes going downtown.
  3. Take the train for 3 stops
  4. Switch cars
  5. Continue on this train for another 3 stops
  6. Get out transfer to the train that is closer to the beginning of the alphabet. But if there are no transfers on this stop, kick the wall and go back on the train until there is a transfer station
  7. say KAWABUNGA REALLY LOUD when the announcer says transfer. After this WHENEVER you hear the word transfer you must say Kawabunga!
  1. Get out of the train after 4 stops and go on the underpass to the uptown
  2. Take the first uptown train and the first person you see with a blue shirt you must stand next to them.
  3. Listen for a number that someone else says or on an ad and stay on this train for that number of stops.
  4. Get out of the train and look at a map, look at the YOU ARE HERE sign and choose a destination that is on the opposite side of NY.
  5. Ask a person how to get there.
  6. When they help you offer them a cookie. (AS LONG AS THEY ARE NOT CREEPY)
  7.  Take the train the person told you to take for 4 stops. BUT during the ride SPEAK IN YOUR OWN LANGUAGE.
  8. Sara you have to get mad at Lily. Lily you have to hit Sara and make a weird foreign noise.
  9. Take a look at a map and decide what is the best train to get home, TAKE THE OPPOSITE TRAIN
  10.  TAKE OUT YOUR TOILET PAPER SARA and turn lily into a mummy. (just face)
  11. get off the train
  12. do 10 jumping jacks
  13. hop on a random train
  14. go up to the wall and smack it!
  16.  Step outside wherever you are. Find the nearest park and play in it. But only if its not TOO dangerous looking…
  17. GO HOME! And give a hobo some money. 

Unfortunately... It was really cold that day, and we didn't get to do everything on the list. But I will convince Sarita to go on the adventure with me again! hehehe


A hole in my foot...

There is a hole in my foot.
And oh is it scaring me.
I think it's a black hole.
Yes one day it will eat up my foot!
and I will cry!
My foot will die!
And I'll be confused
as to why!


Pitch Dark

A few days ago I went to see PLAY DEAD, an off-off Broadway spooky play... that REALLY SPOOKED ME, my friend Lola, and my grandma out. To keep it short, he told us TRUE tales of murderers, one that skinned children alive. oh my god. and then we were left in total darkness in a room of 100 strangers who were advised to do anything to anyone. I got poked on the head and everyone was screaming loudly and laughing like creepy monsters... it was quite frightening.

Then, the guy talking to us ate a light bulb right in front of us.
It wasn't chocolate. It wasn't candy. In fact, he showed it working right before he ate it. Then he took a bite, and progressively ATE it, making the loudest chewing sounds. It was absolutely amazing. But that didn't necessarily creep me out...

But then you see... he took out a rat.
And I swear I thought he was going to bite it's head off.
It may seem strange that I would have thought that... But I had just recovered from the total darkness and his light bulb trick had me convinced he really would eat anything.
So, yes I thought he was going to eat a rat.
He DIDN'T. Thank goodness.

But anyways... Being in total darkness was kind of fun really. And I liked not being able to see anything. Absolutely nothing. It was really cool, so last night I tried to brush my TEETH in total darkness...

I felt around for the tooth paste... Grabbed something else.
I felt around for my tooth brush, and could thankfully identify which was mine rather than my sisters or mothers...
And THEN, I searched for my retainer.
Which incidentally created so much noise and destruction that I started laughing.
I just couldn't find it without my eye sight.
I picked up all these towels and hand creams, makeup and sticky sticky opened bottles but nothing felt remotely like my retainer case.

This may be a pointless story but I just like darkness. Or, at least... I like completely ignoring a sense, or disabling myself from using it. I mean, that may be weird. And I would never want to be blind... Obviously. But I also just like to see if my eyes can adjust to being in darkness for a really long time. I only gave it about 5 or 10 minutes but still... try it yourself it's fun. :) hehe


Baby Musicians... lkhsagblk

I am actually scared.
Watch the whole thing.
I mean, I am actually speechless so... So yes.
It says a lot if I am speechless.
I am actually so scared right now...
That was so scary.
ps. I saw this on Tara's blog!  ... so amazing...



I would like to introduce you to a new part of my life; freedom of the fangs.

I had braces for 2 and a half years. Some argue that is a reasonable amount of years. But they do not know what I have been through. Pain. Pain I tell you PAAAAIN.

First of all, I don't go to any orthodontics place. A place with some old orthodontist that knows what he's doing, with a gentle, slow paced procedure on the teeth. Oh no. My orthodontics aren't the ones that give you a choice in color for the braces, or a say in how long or short the wire is, ohh no... No, no, no. My orthodontics is at NYU. Which means I am being operated on by STUDENTS!

I remember sitting in the chair and one of the orthodontist students was trying to take off the wire and was having a hard time. She said, oooo oooo oo! *gasp* OOO.....All I could think of was how desperately I wanted to leave, when she apologized for breaking one of my brackets. It was her first day. Now why in all of Mesopotamia would they put someone that is just starting on my beautiful teeth? Oh, wait, yes I know why! Because this is NYU, and they are students, and we are paying slightly less then we would with an old orthodontist in a shiny office so no big deal. You can break my brackets whenever you like. Go ahead.

But that is just one thing... The whole process started out with teeth yanking. They had to remove four of my teeth dew to over crowding. And do you know what was the worst part? Worse than the needles stuck in my gums to control the pain, worse then my mouth becoming numb for hours and being incapable of drinking water (which was actually pretty funny, I would try to drink water and it would fall directly out of my opened mouth onto the sidewalk). The thing that was worse than the actual removal of the teeth was the fact that the drugs in my mouth made me somehow forget to ask to keep my teeth! NOW COME ON... These were awesome teeth! Really long, pulled out from the root. Freaky awesome teeth, and I forgot them in the doctors office!

Then came the spacers. Little blue circular things painfully wedged between what was left of my teeth. The thing with the spacers was the problem I had with eating. I literally could not eat anything. Maybe apple sauce. All I know is I went to my favorite restaurant with my parents and sister and could not eat the chicken fried rice! I MEAN COME ON! I felt like my teeth were inadvertently going to fall out of my mouth. They all felt so loose. I was genuinely scared to wake up and see all my teeth gone.

Another problem was of course... the fact that I always broke the darn brackets on hard foods. I remember being scolded by my orthodontist after breaking a bracket, "YOU WILL NEVER GET THEM OFF IF YOU CONTINUE TO BREAK THEM!" And so of course, the next appointment I had broken another one. When I went back to the orthodontist to get it fixed, again, all went well and I was quite happy! Yay, my bracket was fixed. So I was walking home with my dad when we passed a gum ball machine. And being the idiot I am I got a gum ball... And broke the same bracket I just got fixed.

If you have ever had braces you know how upsetting it is to break a bracket. Or not. I mean maybe it is just me, but whenever I heard a crack, or snap! or, suddenly checked to see if my bracket was still in place and it WASN'T, my heart literally stopped beating. I'd drop whatever I was doing and go to the mirror and see for myself if it was really broken... Again.

Whenever I'd break one I'd go through all this pain because, 1) they'd need to rewire everything and often made the wire too long so it stuck directly into my gum... OW... and 2) well, no that's it. Just emphasizing the pain here.

But guess what.

On May 3rd, 2011 I got my braces OFF.



pretzels, and candy canes, gummy bears, and taffy...

It's not like I didn't eat these things but NOW...
oh, now I can bite right through the carrot without needing to take little baby bites until its all done.
I still find myself doing that.

I don't have a constant ache in my teeth, or if I sleep directly on my face I won't wake up with holes on the inside of my mouth, I MEAN OH MY GOD YEEEESSSSS


What have I learned from the experience?
Simply to warn others NEVER TO GET THEM BRACES.


The Neighbor Strikes Again

So, I can't possibly know if you have read one of my old posts about my evil neighbor who stole my sock. But it is slightly crucial that you read it so CLICK ME

Yes, the neighbor.

Well, I have a new conspiracy that he does everything he can to make my life hell in terms of laundry. If that makes any sense. So, let me explain.

Two days ago I went to the laundry room. It was late, and probably stupid to be doing laundry late on a school night, especially when I am constantly falling asleep on my homework, but I went anyways. And I put in my 1.25, pressed the start button and headed back into my hut.

Yea, I fell asleep.

In the morning, I hadn't the time to go to my laundry so I waited until after school to put it in the drier.

By the time school was over my clothes were wet and out on the top of the washer. Which is totally understandable because my neighbor probably had to use the washer.

So, I put my clothes in the dryer and completely forgot about. Being the airhead I am, I didn't fetch it until my dad walked me to the door to get it. When it was out at the top I wasn't surprised because my dad told me HE did it this time because he had to do laundry.

So you know, I brought it inside.
I folded it.
I put on some PJs.
I started to grimace.
My face started twitching. (Okay no it didn't, but still I'm building the climax)
My ears starting crying.
No, I mean my nose.
I smelled my newly "cleaned" pajama shirt and nearly died.


But oh no, not the good kind.
Not good old Mr. Cheesy head with the feet that smell like chocolate milkshakes.
Oh no.
I mean this smelled like Mr. Neighbor over there pored some rotten mac and cheese mix on the top of it and then jumped on all my clothing repetitively. I can just picture him doing it. Grabbing the clothing... stepping on it. Spraying it with cheese in a can.

hey if you are one of my neighbors and you are reading this because my mom told you to know that it probably isn't you that I am talking about. The neighbor I am talking about probably wont be getting notified to read this.

The mystery continues.

Why am I continuously being attacked via the laundry room.


when will I crack and take my revenge?


The Sparkly Box Returns

Oh my god.
Television is evil.
I hate it.

Okay, I know most of you are probably peeing in disapproval (I realize that is not a saying) but TV is evil. And deep within I think you know it too. I think you know that when you sit on that lumpy couch, with your potato chips and your lemonade, watching hours and hours of other peoples lives (fiction or not) that you are being turned into a sack of mushrooms.

You can feel your brain turning into mashed potato can't you?

Or, maybe you can't. Maybe, just maybe, you are shaking your head at me in front of your own television at this very moment. But listen... Listen to my troubles. Listen to my reasons to hate the darn box.

Picture me, walking into my house, dropping off my bag, heading into the kitchen to grab some cheese when I hear, "HAHAHAHAHA HAHAHAHAHA" coming out of the living room. "Who the heck is that?" I scream. The laughter continues and echos through the house, resembling the sound of laughter in a theatre or in... television. OHHHHH. It's one of those annoying television shows that program the laughter inside so that it seems successful. What do you know! Now I have to listen to other people "laughing" in the background as my sister stares blankly at the bright screen.

Imagine me trying to ignore the television as I go into my room and do homework or write. But in the background I still hear, "Yes! And Harry went to get Ted a basketball, BUT HE WANTED A BASEBALL!" followed by programed laughter, "HAHAHHAHAhahha..." Wouldn't that be annoying? And as I go to yell at my sister all I do is make her put the volume louder, or form a shield between me and her, a shield that blocks out my attempts of trying to have her turn it off.

For months, MONTHS I didn't have TV. When someone wanted to watch a show they could click, bleep, and, boom, be on hulu watching Glee or Modern Family, or whatever.

But today.

The sparkly box returns.


(Except that it isn't sparkly but I like saying a sparkly box rather than a dull silver thingy.)

So... In order to cope. I'm seeking refuge in my hallway.

As we speak in fact.

My back hurts on this hallway wall. I miss my comfy couch!
Maybe this television will force me to do my homework outside! That could be nice >:)
I'm going to find a way to have it removed.


I will find a way to have it removed.


I just needed to share this

So, I was you know... checking out my blog when out of the blue I saw the advertisement on the side bar

And I just-- OH MY GOD.

How did google know this about me?

I mean, if it's target is to lure me in it succeeded. Cheese is my LIFE. Free cheese? On my blog? Is this some miraculous event or is it just me? I hope I have this in common with my followers. I need to go to this website. I mean, CHEEEEEEEEEEEESE. FREE CHEESE.

Who's going to click the button?
Don't be ashamed cheese loves you too.


Cheese is my life.
Cheese is your life.
Cheese IS life.

Okay, I'm done.
Go on! Live your lives... eat some cheese.

Feeding a Bird Blindfolded

Guilt, oh the guilt.

I've felt this guilt for months now and I think it is finally time to express it, to release it, embrace it, and send it out for others to reprimand me for...

I was at the pier, re-reading a book, and eating my sandwich under a tree. It was a chicken teriyaki subway sandwich with chicken (doy!), unions, lettuce, cheese, and peppers in it. Yum yum yum. With the sun on my feet and enough shade for reading, I was quite happy, and could hear little birds chirping above me. As one of them approached me, I obviously wanted to feed it so I took off a little piece of my sandwich and threw it near the bird. The bird picked it up and flew back to its tree.

If you aren't screaming right now I don't think you realize what I did.
Or maybe you don't care about birds...
But let me translate...

it's like you feeding your baby another human.


Just in case this poor bird checks my blog:

dear little bird,
I can not express my sadness for you. You have just eaten one of your own. One of the birds that could not fly. That could not escape the humans that domesticated it, killed it, and ate it. All I want you to do is know that I will return the badness on to myself. Tonight I will eat my sisters hand. That's right. I will eat my sisters hand. Get a fire going, add some spices, and I will eat it. This is the only way I can feel the disgust right when you ate the chicken.
Now just a moment... Let's say you have never eaten chicken before (which is hopefully the truth) you couldn't have possibly known what chicken tastes like. So you might have thought you were only eating fruit or something! Unless of course you are extraordinarily bright and can understand English, or understand the concept of how different fruits taste (chicken not tasting like any of them) or can tell by looking at the food what type of animal it is. But if you knew what kind of meat the chicken was by looking at it, you would NOT be able to blame me for feeding you because you willingly ate it! Haha!
Oh little birdie, perhaps I am not to blame.
Or perhaps I do not make sense...
Or perhaps you took the chicken and did not eat it.
Yes, that's it you didn't eat the chicken!
But I was looking forward to eating my sisters hand...
Maybe I still will...
Maybe I should stop freaking you out poor little birdie.
Good bye now.
Don't eat food from strangers that are reading and aren't paying attention.
Bye bye now!
I still think you ate it.
- me



I was in the Americas Next Top Model television show. And the task was to foot model. They awarded the foot model with the biggest foot. I DID NOT WIN. And it was absolutely, positively, frightening.

The end.


Judgment Day

The world didn't end
It's 6:12!

But, do you know... something quite peculiar did in fact happen.

I was video chatting with Lola and her dog LuLu, anxiously awaiting 6PM... The end of the world! (Okay no we didn't REALLY think the world would end, but it's fun to play along.)

Any who!

All of a sudden, the clock strikes 6 and LuLu viciously BITES Lola (something she never does). She then starts to bark ferociously.

Considering all those stories you hear about the animals knowing when natural phenomenas are going to happen before the humans, for a few moments there we were freaking out mannn!


When I finally peeled my eyes open to see all was well outside my window it was 6:05.
And all still is well.
Oh so well.
The world did not end!
And NOW... I have to do my homework.


The Magical Fingers

We all have special talents. Whether you are a really good writer, or an artist, or a dedicated reader, an inspired scientist, an inventor, an aspiring doctor, or a person who can do cool things with their hands.

Yea, that would be me.

Actually no, I can only do one cool thing with my hands, but it is oh so very significant. In fact, in all my life I have never found another living soul who can do it. Not that it is all that hard, but simply because I've got so much practice over the years that, yea, I guess you could call me a funky cross hand specialist.

Some people can bend their hands back, others can claim to be double jointed, others may possess overly flexible limbs and can lick their elbow or possibly lick their nose, but not I! No, I can do THIS!


WACKY! TACKY! Hello Lily.

Wacky Tacky Day at my highscool was a while ago, but I just need to express my utter disappointment after entering the supposedly, wacky and creative high school. There was literally me, in black and white Tye dye leggings, flamingo shorts, a penguin shirt, a necklace for a headband, a cheetah jacket, bright yellow converse, and blue sunglasses, and then a swarm of conventional high school students.  Okay, so I wasn't completely alone. Thank you to the other 4 people in a school of 1,200 that dressed up!

10 years old

Wacky days are crucial. Crucial to life. Crucial to humanity. Because beyond the tiring school hours and boring lectures, the endless school nights working, and the repetitive essays come a day when everyone is allowed to be as weird, as wacky, as strange, and as much as an out cast as they want. And hardly anyone did it!...

Too Baddd...



(art by me)
I am very unhappy with clocks. In fact, I wouldn't mind swiping them from existence all together. Back in the day, people would get up when the sun rose, people would go to bed when the sun set, people felt free and open to doing anything. Okay, maybe not that last part. Back in the day, people my age worked in factories. But beyond that... I really do wish we didn't invent clocks.

Without clocks, for one I would never be late to spanish class again. Or, let's see maybe I still could be late. I would not get there by the time the sun rose over the tree. Oh my flying geese! There will always be a way to measure whether or not I am late. But that is beyond the point!

What I personally have against clocks is the sense of a timer they send. Tick, tock, tick, tock. TICK TOCK TICK TOCK TICK TOCK. Like the rabbit in Alice in Wonderland. " I'm late! I'm late! For a very important date! No time to say hello, goodbye! I'm late! I'm late! I'm late!" But after a while I think... what am I late for? Nothing. Nothing at all. It's just me being afraid of time. The fear that if I don't spend every second doing something productive soon enough I will find myself an old women! Possibly a hobo at that if I don't get any studying in... Don't get the education up my spine and get a decent job. I mean, now that I have these free bagel hobo connections being a hobo isn't as bad but I still don't like the idea.


I think I have Chronomentrophobia. And possibly a worrying desease too.


Me? A hobo? No...

How much of a hobo are you?
And what I mean by that is, how strange do you let yourself get?
I don't mean to be offensive to hobos of which I have limitless respect for, the way they choose to wear their hair, stylish, ripped clothing and a gait that sends chills down the spines of rats, but come on, when someone says the word hobo, you probably think of something like this:

right? Or maybe that's just me...

ANYWAY, hobos...
I feel like they just about sum up my life.
I mean if ever I am feeling odd or strange I often turn myself into a creepy hobo with a rounded back, slurred and crazed speech and funny words. I see them on the train, in the streets, sleeping on the ground, haunting my dreams...
But I never considered myself an actual HOBO.

Until that afternoon in early May.

Oh yes.

It was a sunday. The air was full of humidity and the sun hung in the sky about to set. I was full. My friend was full. Oh so very full I felt, full to the point that I could feel my belly rounding. You know, like an old mans belly. I had eaten pizza, guacamole samples, cheese samples, a vitamin water, brownie samples, bubble tea, and a cookie. But there was word in town that the bagel factory had the best bagels around. And that they throw out their day old bread at night because they only "sell fresh bread". And hey, we were out of money...

Now I know what you are thinking. Where are you going with this? Are you really considering eating from a garbage? A Garbage? But listen...

These are the best bagels around. And the best bagels around require unique thinking...

So me and my friend went outside of the bagel shop. Looked around and quietly opened up the garbage bag. Acting completely casual, you know, looking completely normal. We open the bag, look inside, and I'm telling you it is a utopia of bread. MOUNTAINS of bread. Soft, squishy bread that still has FLOUR on it.

And at this moment in time my hobo instincts took over. As me and my buddy reached inside the bag (which only had bread in it... no garbage) and ate the best bagels of our lives. It's not even a bagel it's so good. It's like... eating clouds!


Cassidy... The epitome of evil

Hey, so now that I have all these followers... my first move is to publicly humiliate the evilest creature in my life... my sister. >:)


Most of us have siblings. And if you don't have one, I'm sure you have heard countless times how lucky you are. You know all about the fighting, the teasing, the absolute annoyance of it all. And I'm sure all the siblings out there claim to have the most aggrivating sibling there is. But trust me. Mine wins.

See my little sister Cassidy is absolutely visious. I remember when I was about 6, my friends refused to come over to my house. Why? They were scared my sister would bite them again. Oh and I'm sure this is not big news for all of you. Biting seems to be oddly common. But most kids grow out of it. Yea, well not my sister. She's eleven, a sixth grader, and still seems to be teething. But at least her bite marks aren't as odd... See what was rare about my sisters bite mark was the huge gap in the center. My sister had the oddest teeth. Every tooth had more room than it needed. None of her teeth touched each other. They were spread about and stuck out to the point where she didn't have to even bite to make a mark on your skin.

Her laugh is dangerous too. It's boisterous, contagious, and outrageous. When she's laughing, I mean, she will just flop on anything in her way. Whether its a car, a person, a nose. I remember one time her teeth made a cut on my dads nose while she was laughing. Her spongebob laugh. His nose started bleeding. She stuck her teeth right in. We tried to get my dad to wear a bandade to work on his nose. He wouldn't do it. I guess dad's don't think its cool to wear barbie bandades on their noses.

I just think it's funny that it doesn't matter that I am 3 years older than her... She always is the one  chasing ME, and I'm always getting beat up. I mean... I usually win you see, but if she gets really mad, like if I take her chapstick or something, the REALLY special chapstick that is pink and pretty, I need to seek refuge. AND RIGHT AWAY. That means let go of the chapstick and RUN FOR MY LIFE. Grab a door and hold it shut until she finally moves away. Or until I have found a weapon to wave in her face. Weapons like... a bat. A ball. A skooter... or even just a certain ninja move to distract her... like waving my hands back in forth around me and kicking my legs out to make it impossible for her to dig her nails into me.

AHHHHH... I doubt she'll be very happy to see I have posted this now that I have 194 followers... HAHAHAHAH 194 PEOPLE ARE GOING TO SEE THIS?!!! hhahahah oh gosh, I'm getting my ninja on..


I'm a happy monkey... !!!!!

I mean it's just... OH MY GODDDDDDD

this is amazing. absolutely amazing, i just want to thank every single one of you for visiting my blog and congratulating me on my blog of note...

I was just you know, checking my email when I noticed that I had a blog comment. I got really excited because I just NEVER get comments, and then what do you know? BOOM, BOOm, Boooooom, I scrolled up and about 30 new comments appeared. I didn't even think it could be because of something like blog of note, but IT WAS.

Which is just insane because I haven't written in months, and I almost forgot about my blog. But this has made me want to keep posting and so I think I'm back guys... 122 followers... HAHAHAH WOW I had 17 before.

this is just amazing

sit tight, I'm working on a post right now!
again, thank you SOOOO MUCH
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