A Double Thanksgiving Dilemma

As commercials boast of early Christmas planning and I watch Generation Cryo, I think of my Turkey Day dilemma. Two dinners and one me… Yupp, I’m supposed to eat this feast at my own place with the blood family I hate and my future in-laws I love. Don’t get me wrong- I love my mom and grandmother in a love-hate relationship kind of way, it’s just that I can’t stand my cousins or my aunt. My mother and grandmother are hard enough as it is.

I know I should be thankful, especially around this season, for the little bit of family that I do know, but I can’t help but to feel my psychic powers shining through right now. I’m seeing plenty of visions of total chaos tomorrow. Me, I’ll be the only sane one. If only everyone knew what my family was like. Full of lying, faking, stealing, psychotic people.

My boyfriend’s family is pretty far out there, too, just not in the malicious kind of way my family is. His dad is the one doing the cooking, so the taste of the food won’t be very good at all, to put it bluntly. His half sister, her kids, and her husband are going to be there. I just met them yesterday. By the way, I’m extremely shy, unlike all of my boyfriend’s gregarious family. Oh, his brother will be there and he’s been pretty shy around the kids, too, so I won’t be too lonely. At least I’ll have someone to talk to Skyrim, GTA 5, and Call of Duty: Ghosts about.

*My boyfriend turned me into a gamer.*

I’m only 17 so of course I have to do what my mom says. What does this woman say? I can eat dinner at the house first and then go to his house. Hmm. My poor stomach. How will I be able two large dinners? Eat a little at both? That would be a wee bit hard because at 58 inches and 95 pounds, all it takes to fill me up is a glass of water and a salad.

The point of Thanksgiving is to be with the one’s you love and to be thankful for everything you have. Gratitude? I’m grateful for everything I have on a daily basis…

To be with the one’s I love? That’s all I’ve ever tried to do. I’ve tried beyond reasoning to earn the love I deserve from the blood family that’s supposed to love me unconditionally. I can’t work on a hopeless case anymore. It’s time to move forward. And that, I’m thankful for.


Young Writer in Need of Help!

Hello, everyone, I’m writing a book on my school computer, but I have no idea what to do to publish it once I’m finished with it. I’m working on the 6th chapter, and it’s on the 103rd page so far. My goal is to have it be a series and I want each book to be about 400 pages or more.

How do I get a book published?

Also, I wanted to know if this is good plot:

My book starts off with my main character, Evi, running away from her twisted and murderous past and into the arms of Jack- the leader of a small band of travelers. Evi thought she got away from people betraying her when she killed Catherine and Henry, but she was wrong. Jack and his crew only use Evi when they believe she has something she wants until Evi finds Blue, an innocent and intelligent spirit, at an abandoned lake house. She also meets Max, a unicorn, and runs away when Jack’s team wants to kill her because they believe her to be the cause of one of their team member’s death.

Evi still doesn’t believe that any of this is real and that she’s just psychotic because of everything she went through.

However, she soon discovers that there are perceptions, like parallel universes. Throughout the first book, Evi will face her past while running faster than ever from everyone in Satré, the magical perception. See, Satré is looking for its next King or Queen. It’s further explained in the book, but it’s basically a giant game where humans are selected by Lords or Ladies of Satré to represent them. Then, they have to kill the other human representatives to make sure they don’t die and they can choose to make their Lord or Lady the King or Queen, or they can opt to become the King or Queen themselves. 

Buuuut anyway, that’s the basics of my book and I was wondering what you think? I have a few different endings in mind, but if I get this published, I don’t want the ending to be spoiled. I’ll just say that what I have in mind is going to make readers really mad until they can get their hands on the second book.

Thank you!

P.S.- If I decide to be a “one book wonder,” then readers are probably going to be very upset with my ending…


A week ago, my mother, grandmother, sister and I went on a weekend trip to Washington D.C., Arlington, and Alexandria, Virginia. I didn’t want to go, initially, but I thought that it would be a nice change to get out of the house and go do something. My boyfriend was away in Titusville visiting his grandmother before her death, and ultimately, her funeral. The day we left was Saturday, September 28, 2013.

Strange things of a deep gravity have happened since our departure from the nation’s capitol. A man brought a can of gasoline and lit himself on fire in the middle of a park where joggers had their paths, in broad daylight. A woman drove her car into… What are they called…? Those large cylinders in the front of stores like Wal*Mart or Target that prevent people from crashing into the actual store… Whatever they’re called, a woman crashed into one of them, harm intended, and was killed by the secret service. There was a baby in the backseat that could have also been easily killed.

World War II veterans came from all over, using a good amount of money (we’re talking five digits; I think my mom said it was $80,000), stormed through the gates of a monument park…? Something along those lines. But imagine that, old men in their 80s or so, barging through metal fences? Crazy.

I’m scared.

Did I mention the government got shut down? I’m glad my mom isn’t a prison guard anymore or else she’d be ten times more pissed than what she already is. But why is my dear old mother, whom doesn’t even work or keep up with the world, pissed? I’ll be blunt: her son, my brother, went missing.

My brother made Lance Corporal. He’s a PFC in the United States Marine Corpse. Put in the brigs. Why? I am honestly not even sure because we still haven’t been able to get ahold of him. From what my mom’s been telling me, a lot of them in there for… A bad attitude? Hmm. Sounds suspicious, especially at a suspicious time. The only way we know anything is from a fellow Marine friend of my brother who got out of the brigs already. At first, all I knew was that my brother was in the brigs for punching an officer in the face because he tried to stop hazing.

More questions = more confusion.

The message I’m trying to get across is: I’m scared about the hell that our country is coming to. Anyone else? Thoughts? Opinions?


P.S.- I did NO RESEARCH. This is just information I was learning about from my mother and was discussing with her. I may be wrong about some things but please don’t hold it against me. I needed to get this out of my system. Thank you.

Happy Halloween!

Just getting into the eerie mood for Halloween and changed my blog’s theme for the month of October. Have a good autumn, everyone 🙂

Also, I was wondering if a short story every once in a while would be nice? Yay or nay?

The Code for Life: DNA

When people look at me, they see my tanned skin. They see my arched brows, the width of my hips, my dark eyes, and my dark hair. What people think about when they first see me is how short I am. They wonder what race I come from.

When people look at me, they see mystery. They wonder what secrets lie behind my red-brown eyes that turn black when I’m mad. I tell them the truth and I don’t hold back. They ask me how I say my name how do I spell it? I say,

Just call me Juli. It’s much easier that way.

Because of my DNA, I’ve been called a spik, a nigger, a border jumper, etc. It was two in the morning when Jackie came out of her room, threatening to beat me to death and then beat my mother and pull all her hair out because I was a nigger and a spik. My mom isn’t Mexican like me, instead she’s black Irish, German, and Scottish. I guess Jackie just wanted to beat her for giving birth to a mixed breed like me.

Instead of being what my mother said my entire family was like, violent, I was passive and walked all the way home on my own. I refuse to be the stereotypical Mexican. Doing drugs, drinking, “packing,” and jumping borders are not in a human’s DNA. I don’t do any of those things, so there’s your proof that we’re not all bad. I may not be that smart, but I do manage to work hard enough to get all As and Bs. I eat and cook German food most of the time instead of something spicy. I might have been born in a ghetto, but I left that place for PA a long time ago.

I’m a senior in high school and I still can’t fit in because of my skin. I don’t have a pointed nose like everyone else. My hair is full of large curls and waves; everyone else’s hair is straight. Exciting news, though, I met a kid named Raymond whose like me. He’s got darker skin, curlier hair, and he’s short like me. Oh, wait, Ray-Ray is a Puerto Rican, not a Mexican. Around here, Puerto Ricans are more popular than Mexicans because there’s more of them than there is of us.

Them and us? What am I saying? We’re all the same underneath. Guanine, thymine, cytosine, and adenine? We’ve all got those inside of us. We’ve all got a double helix. We’re made of the same materials. So why does it matter that the pigment granules in my hair are darker than all the Germans, Irishmen, and various other people of European descent that I’m surrounded by?

I worked hard to show people that we’re not all the same.

Bad people are bad because they’re bad.

Good people are good because they’re good.

It’s as simple as that.

I’m an honest, clean-cut kid that’s been through hell and back because of my ethnicity. Every time someone tries to bring out the worst in me, I bring out my best. I’ve made a lot of choices in my 17 years. Some choices were bad but most were good.

When people look at me, they see my smile. They can sense my strength, the wisdom I’ve learned, the beauty I am, and the tender heart that lies inside. What people think when they first see me now is still that I’m unusually short, but now, I just laugh along with them.

Hope you liked my first attempt at a weekly challenge, here’s a link to try it for yourself:


Thank you!

Bluer Than Blue


Writing letters to my mystery Blue about you.

I tell him all about your coldness

And how your hostile words make me bluer than Blue.

I shouldn’t have to, but I do miss “us.”

When we look at life,

We see that nothing is ever as it seems.

Behind all the stubborn struggles and fights,

I silently try to flee and see

All the world in its real colors.

Blue isn’t blue because he is truly an Indigo.

My guardian since what feels like forever.

So when I’m with you, we’re never alone.

You have your friends friends to ensure that.

I have my Blue.

While you play video games and I’m just sad,

Blue’s got my back.