Food Truck Mania

Lately, I've been having nightmares about the bar exam results. It's been a slew of restless nights for me. Although, my brother gave me some great advice yesterday and told me that I should just be happy I'm alive. The elitist bitch that lives inside me translated that into "thank the lord I am not a stereotype!" This is one Latina that graduated with a high school diploma (not a GED, thank you very much!), obtained a bachelors of art from an awesome school (chirp!) and even managed to find her way to a juris doctorate. Pat myself on the back on that one.

These are the things that run through my head when I start to get nervous about the results. But, I also think about my former boss who, whilst standing in line to get into the airport, told me, "don't listen to your dad, I didn't pass the first time and look at me now." He's right. He's on his way to being a head deputy district attorney or even a judge! So, it'd be nice to pass on the first time. However, I've decided not to let it devastate me if I do not.

I went to lunch with an old friend on Monday, October 29, 2012. I was telling her stories about my life. That, coupled with my food truck mania night with my brother led me to the realization that I really do need to start blogging my experiences.

Random Night Story I Told Old Friend

There was this person in my life that I found to be quite an awesome influence. He will remain nameless because I really do believe he would kick me if he knew I told this story. Aside from the fact that he has a similar story of mine that I never want him to tell and never want to hear!

I was lying in bed one night after a day of procrastinating with Boo Boo Bear. Aside from the fact that it was getting closer to the time I had to start studying for the bar, I was also nervous because my final exam was four to five days away and I hadn't even opened the book.

Quack! Quack! Quack!

I turned towards my iPhone with its annoying ring tone. "Hello?"

"Hello beautiful person! You have such a beautiful faaaaaace. Where are yooou?"

"I'm pretty sure I am in bed, trying to sleep."

"I miss you! I want to see you!"

"So, come see me."

"I'm so drunk.... Aaah! But I want to see you."

It was a Saturday night. I figured, What the hell? It's not like my final is tomorrow. "I can pick you up...."

"You would do that for me?! You're awesome."

"I know."

Anonymous was trying to send me a text message of the address. But, I theorize that he was in such an inebriated state that the only thing I was getting was a bunch of numbers and an attempt at an address. Finally, an address after five minutes. I was about ready to give up on the kid. As I drove down towards the party he was attending I thought to myself, Shit, I really like this kid if I'm willing to pick him up from a party. I wonder if I look pretty.

I got to the house and it looked like a shit show. There were people standing outside and cars everywhere. There was a kid throwing up on the sidewalk. I remembered thinking, "Please don't be anonymous." As I called anonymous, he excitedly answered the phone, "I'm by the sidewalk!" (Don't worry! He wasn't the throw up kid!)

I pulled close to the house and this girl looked into my car. She looked extremely angry and started coming towards my car. Then, she banged her hand on my passenger window. Rude. I made a U-Turn and there he was, smiling and stumbling to my car. God, even when he's drunk he looks absolutely gorgeous.

"Heeeey!!!"

"Who's that blonde chick?"

"Just some girl. Some girl. I think she likes me. I don't know. Never mind." He slurred.

"She looks pissed."

"Because I called you. I think she has a thing for me, but I just really wanted to be with you, Nor."

"That's sweet." I said, sarcastically.

"You're not being very affectionate."

"I've been sitting outside a random house for ten minutes waiting for you."

"I really like you."

I turned to him, he had a smile on his face. Might I mention this man is absolutely beautiful? I remembered the first time I met him, I thought there was no way he could like me. This guy is six feet tall, has beautiful tan skin, big brown eyes and such defined features. Though, the thing that really gets to me is his smile. His smile is so infectious you can't help but smile. I'm pretty sure any girl that walks by him would fall for him.

I smiled back at him and touched his cheek. "I forgive you."

"Yooou like me." He taunted.

"Whatever, you like me too. You're in my car." I said, slightly annoyed.

We drove to my driveway and I sat there. We started talking, he was telling me about his day. I told him about my day. Then he put his head on the car seat and stared at me....

He looked embarrassed... "Noreen, I REALLY like you."

"You said that." I said in a matter-of-fact tone (Argh! I was such a tool with him!)

He hid his face in his hand. "No, you don't get it. You're not like anyone else. I really really like you....a lot."

I turned to him, scared. I felt uncomfortable because we had only been dating for two months. I knew that I liked him, but I didn't want to be heartbroken - especially because our time was limited and I was going to start studying for the bar exam. "I like you too, anonymous."

"But, I really really like you. Like, I call you by your name at work. The guys make fun of me.... I like you..." He pouted. God, I love when he pouts, I thought to myself.

"You're silly."

"Noreen, I like you so much. Like, damn. I like you a lot. I don't think you get it. I really don't think you understand what I feel."

I laughed a little. "I think I kind of like you." (It was this thing we used to do. We'd tell each other we "kind of" like each other. But, in reality, I liked this kid probably as much as he liked me.)

He smiled, "I kind of like you too, maybe."

"Good. I'm glad we're on the same page."

Dating Pet Peeve Story I told My Brother

About a month ago, I received a text from an old acquaintance asking me if he could take me out on a date. I, of course, accepted because he is quite an attractive human being. I've come to the realization that it doesn't matter how attractive a person can be, men tend to make the same dating faux-pas.

There we were having a lovely time at a bar. As usual, I was being the typical girl and barely touching my celery sticks. My eyes were done up - all mascaraed out. (By the way, if you haven't done so - every female should own Benefit's "They're Real.") He looked at me and said, "Nor, can I ask you a hypothetical question?"

I quizzically turned to him, "I think so."

He looked at me, nervous smile in hand: "What would you do if I told you that your eyes are beautiful and you're one of the most gorgeous women I've ever seen?"

I smiled. "I would say thank you."

"And, what would you say if I told you I really want to kiss you?"

I looked at him, annoyed. The thoughts running through my head, if only you could hear them! What the fuck? Doesn't this kid know you're not supposed to ask for a kiss?! What am I? In high school. "I would say, no."

The look of rejection ensued, "well, it was just a hypothetical question."

"Next time, just kiss me."

"Like right now?"

"Are you kidding me?! Don't you know you're not supposed to ask for a kiss!! Absolutely not. No."

Food Truck Mania

Every Tuesday night Santa Monica holds a food truck lot on Main Street. I absolutely love the idea of food that travels. I stood on the sidewalk waiting for my brother, angry. I was on the phone with a friend from high school whom is living in Florida. She will be called, Florida. I was explaining to Florida how annoyed I was because my brother typically cancelled on my due to my inability to get out of work early. On this particular night, I had told my boss I could not stay late. I was sad because I had really wanted to practice direct examination questions I had written for a case. One of my favorite things to do is direct and cross-examination questions - I can't wait to have a jury trial!.

"Seriously, Florida. This kid bitched at me because I told him I'd be an hour late. We were supposed to meet at 6:30, then he changed it to 7:00. It is now 7:15. I will never let him live this one down!"

Finally, my little brother sauntered into the parking lot. I walked over to him. We started searching through the food trucks. Several of his friends walked up to us and began explaining to me how amazing the company is that they work for.

"What company is this?" I said.

"How long have you been working with us?" Tav's co-worker joked with him.

"My sister never listens to anything I say."

"That's not true! I know you work in Santa Monica!" I said to him laughing.

His co-worker had me download the application that they work for. It's this awesome application that allows you to pay for food trucks using the application. If you scan other people's applications (basically showing that you rallied the troups to the food trucks) you get a dollar a scan. You also get extra perks when you sign up a first time person. I obtained $19 whole Kuapay dollars!

Tavs and I decided we would take a food truck tour and I graciously offered to pay with my new-found cash.

The first food truck we visited was "Cairo Cowboy." We ordered this AMAZING french fry order with Tzatziki sauce. I swear I melted right in the middle of the parking lot. We were welcomed with a giant stack of french fries covered in chicken, tzatziki sauce, tomatoes and steamy goodness.

"I need ketchup!" I yelled

"Nor, have you looked a this thing?"

"Have you met me?! I love ketchup!" (Boo Boo Bear once told me I am so obsessed with ketchup, she's afraid to take packets when we eat together.)

"Stop eating! I need to take a picture."

"You're barely eating anything. Stop intagramming things."

"I need to record this moment!"

After we finished our french fries, we wandered around trying to figure out which spot to visit next. Both my brother and I are fans of slider, so we started our way towards Slammin' Sliders. I am a big fan of kobe beef, so this place was perfect. It was cute hearing my brother explain to the cashier how to use the program that he designed. Proud big sister moment. (On a side note, one of Tavs' co-workers said I look younger than my brother. Yippee! I don't look 25.) We bit into our giant onion ring burgers and they crunched and mingled in our mouths. I loved them.

After our burger adventure, we wandered to My Delight Cupcakery. The cupcakes danced around in front of us, taunting us. Each one begging to be picked. But, oh no cupcakes, I hate chocolate cake! I explained to the cashier that I hate chocolate cake, but I like real chocolate. He started explaining all the cupcake goodness standing in front of me. There was Almond Joy, which was a delicious little white cake dipped in something that had to do with almonds (I'm such a good listener.) Really though, I couldn't pay attention to anything he was saying because I was mesmerized by the Peanut Butter Cup Cupcake that was standing in front of me. "I love peanut butter, what's that one?"

"This is a peanut butter cupcake with a peanut butter based frosting dipped in chocolate. There's also a surprise inside."

"I'll take it!"

Tavs looked around and finally decided on a carrot cake. I stared into the window in awe when my eyes fell upon a cupcake called the Breakfast cupcake. "Oh my gosh! I've totally heard of those, brother! I've always wanted to try one! Aaah!"

The cashier must have heard me because he turned to us and asked if we had ever tried the Breakfast Cupcake. Apparently, it's one of their most known cupcakes. I told him I had not, but have heard great things. After all, anything with maple syrup, bacon and buttermilk has to be absolute heaven. He tossed one in for us.

"I think the guy thought you were cute." Tavs said, as we walked away and I showered the cashier with a million thank yous.

"Why....?" I said.

"We just got a Breakfast Cupcake. Either that or he is gay and thought I was cute."

"It was totally me."

Tavs and I ran into his coworker again. "What did you two get!" We showed her our cupcakes and opened up our box. I explained to her that I hate chocolate cake. "Me too!" Tavs exclaimed. "Really?! I never knew that!"

Tavs co-worker started laughing. "Maybe I should just talk more so you two can get to know each other more!"

Worst brother and sister ever.

Needless to say, the cupcakes were amazing. The peanut butter cupcake did not disappoint. In fact, it was a fluffy little ball of joy as I sunk my teeth into a peanut butter cup center. The surprise was the Breakfast cup. At first bite, you can taste the buttermilk cupcake, but as you start to chew the ingredients really come together. Boom! Maple Syrup. Boom! Bacon.

Our food truck mania was a good night.

Spiders in the Bed and Boo Boo Bear

I am convinced that my bed is inhabited by a tiny, little, laughing spider that creeps up on me when I am asleep. It makes me hope those rumors are true that people eat 5 spiders in their lives without knowing it because it occurs in their sleep. In fact, I want to pretend I'm sleeping and jump the spider - and eat him! Often times, I wake up in the morning only to find two or three new bite on my legs. That's what I never understand about bug bites: they never appear near your face or arms.

I wouldn't mind being a black widow. They're bad ass and eat their boyfriends. Random fact from Boo Boo Bear: brown widows are taking over California because they're killing off black widows. They look almost exactly the same, except that they're brown. Does this correlate with the fact that Latinos are taking over California? I think so.

Well, the whole spider in the bed ordeal made me think about my Cinco de Mayo this past year and how Boo Boo Bear was coined as such. My friend Nando often tells me that my life should be a movie, or reality tv show. "Oh, the life you lead, Nor....."

Boo boo bear and I had just come back from Las Vegas with Pen Stealer - might I add this was also the day I was given a speeding ticket? Speeding tickets are such a waste of money and time. They know I'm just going to speed again once they leave...

My friend, Criminalist, had invited me to his Cinco de Mayo party. Boo boo bear was especially excited because it meant that she would be able to watch the "Fight." I kept referring to the "Fight" as the "game," which was irking her a little bit. I have absolutely no interest in boxing - unless it has to do with two boys fighting over me. Even then, I don't like a man that resorts to violence when he is confronted with an argument. I'd much rather see a man use his wit and intellect to win me over.

Little did I know that Criminalist had actually invited me to his birthday party. It wasn't until I arrived that I noted the chocolate cake (I absolutely hate chocolate cake.) Criminalist proceeded to explain to me that the cake was really for everyone else because he has no sweet tooth. I didn't care, because all I wanted were the margarita's his mother was making and spiking with an abundant amount of tequila.

At some point, I was getting tired of drinking. This often occurs when I've spent a week drinking in Vegas and can't bring myself to consume another bit of alcohol. each time Crim's mom was handing me a margarita, I started to pour them down the sink when no one was watching. Or, to my utter horror, Boo boo bear would steal them right from under my nose! This mess in a dress proceeded to be convinced to play beer pong that night.

I have a huge dislike for drinking beer that comes out of a red cup. In fact, I like my beer out of a tap and in a fresh, cold glass. Preferably, it needs to be of a Belgium-origin and NOT bud light. Bud light is just pure desperation, if you ask me. Anyone who would resort to Bud Light has not experienced the beauty of true beer. Moreover, I can't stand drinking out of a red cup that just had a ball thrown into it. It disturbs me that people are okay with drinking out of a cup that had a ping pong ball thrown into it. A ping pong ball that's hit the floor, hit the table, touched a multitude of dirty, oily hands and, occasionally, has run into a spider web or two.

Boo boo bear and I were graciously losing the beer pong fight. She was falling all over the place trying to retrieve the ball, and at one point I saw her tumble into a bush. I, on the other hand, was trying to clean the ping pong ball and make sure my beer was not contaminated. Criminalist is a good friend of mine, and I am often able to convince him to drink my beer for me. His birthday was another example of that considerable ability I have.

Each time a ball fell into my cup, I'd drink a few sips and turn to him. "Please? You know I hate bud light, and it's your birthday. Wouldn't you much rather be getting shit faced with your best friend, Nor, than seeing her get sick?"

"Fine, but you have to take a shot for every beer you don't drink."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Two losses later, Boo boo bear and I walked into Crim's house. She saw the pool table and proceeded to crawl underneath it. "Get in here, Nor! Let's go to sleep!"

"Cutting you off."

Crim and his friend looked at us. "You two are pretty good friends, aren't you?"

I could see a number of scenarios running through their heads that involved Diana and I. Boys and their strange fantasies. I immediately turned towards Criminalist and smacked him on the back of the head. "Get your mind out of the gutter and play a game of pool, bitch."

"Noreen! Come here!"

Crim's friend, who clearly had a crush on Boo Boo Bear, looked down at her and helped her out. "Want to be on my team?"

"You mean, I have to play against my boo boo bear?!"

"Boo boo bear?"

"Yes! Noreen is my boo boo bear"

"Yeah, don't you know that?!" I said, as I looked at Crim's friend. "Everyone knows D and I are lovers..."

Let's just say that night, Diana and I managed to find our way back to my house, break a jacuzzi and find our way into my bed. I was completely sober by the time we had left Crim's party, but the whole gang came to my house. We tried to turn on the jacuzzi, emptied it and proceeded to open a bottle of Patron. The next morning, Diana and I both woke up laughing. Criminalist was downstairs. Both of us groggily walked down the stairs and jumped into Crim's bed. "Wake up, wake up!!"

"You are both crazy!"

"Let's watch My Cousin Vinny," I said with a smile on my face.

Boo boo bear and Crim looked at my like I was a strange bird. Crim turned to me, "you're way to happy for someone who just downed half a bottle of patron last night...."

Shine Bright Like A Diamond

It never ceases to amaze me the revelations I make when I'm traversing through the wonders of life. This path I lead is quite a tumultuous tumble and I'm beginning to realize that most of it is my fault.

It's come to a point where my story has been played out and I'm just tired of talking about the pig I have to call my ex-boyfriend. Most of the time, my dad and I jokingly say, "I wasn't aware you/I had an ex boyfriend." I like that tale much better.

Long story short, the pig showed up at my work a month ago begging me to unblock him and to speak to him. He told me he really felt the love for me and was sorry he couldn't get his shit together, crying. He asked for another chance. I told him I didn't want to be with him, but we'll see how it goes because coming to my work took a lot of guts...

Fast forward three weeks, I had this sudden inkling that I should go online. There it was - that girl who had called me months before had a picture of them. I called him and told him he had a girlfriend. "No, Nor! She's obsessed with me. She's fucking obsessed. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

I paced my room. The thought that a person I put on a pedestal for six years could do something so sneaky made me mad, angry. Even worse? I wasn't the one who was trying to mend the relationship! I felt betrayed. I called the girl because I had saved her number. Two hour conversation later we both discovered he had been having sex with her at MY FATHER'S office while he was still supposedly trying to work out our relationship - among other terrible things like the fact that his mother was lying to both of us. She told me not to think I was better than her because of all this mess. Funny thing, I remember wondering why he was so kind to me those Saturdays I needed him to cover my shift because Law School required more time from me. She broke up with him, he called me and told me I was poison. I told him never to speak to me again. Then, he called again saying he was sorry for everything he ever did. But, I could hear the arrogance in his voice. This bastard actually believes what he did was okay because it wasn't like he "really" cheated.

The girl is still with him, even after all she knows about what he said about her being obsessive, stupid and that he would never really love her because he'll always love me (his words, not mine). I, on the other hand, now realize that I AM better than her. Not because I have a law degree and am about to be an attorney, not because I worked my ass off for eight years to get through college and law school, not even because I'm going to be making six figures one day - though, those are all awesome perks to being me!! :)

Back on track: I am better because I will never allow that manipulative pig to convince me he is worth more than me, ever again. He's playing the same game with her that he did with me for six years. She is falling for it and I am moving forward. On top of the fact that she is posting pictures publicly for me to see and directing rude comments towards me. Unfortunately for her, I don't check Facebook and have heard such news from my friends whom feel the need to tell me - P.s. Friends, please stop! Most of them tell me she's very unattractive, but that shouldn't matter. Aside from the fact that I'm just happy to be out of that disgusting triangle - self respecting woman, right here!

Obviously I am mad. But, mostly, I am relieved the ordeal is over. I realize he guilted me into a relationship by making me believe other girls were crazy, making me believe he needed me. When I started to second-guess him, he demeaned me and made me feel like less of a person so that I would believe no one else would want to be with me. And what it all boils down to is my own self-image: I let his words be my truth, when all along my reality should have been my own truth. My truth? I am a diamond. I am a gem. I deserve the world. Shoot, maybe the world deserves me! And, sometimes, being an optimist is the WRONG choice. It's okay to realize that there are some fucked up people in this world.

So, my new goal in life is to shine bright like a diamond. How am I doing that? I am focusing on myself and realizing what I am capable of doing - and I am not alone in this journey.

You see, I have my family and I have my friends. I've even turned my faith back to God. The day this all went down, I received a phone call from the Dentist. He was the only other person I'd ever cried over because I lost him in my life. To no surprise, three weeks later I reset my iPhone because when it comes to technology I am mildly retarded. I couldn't figure out how to change a contact name, so I decided to reset my phone and reload all my contacts. Idiotic. I've come to find out it has something to do with how you store contacts through your emails. Stupid technology. It rebooted old conversations I had with Dentist and it made me realize what a tool I was because I was so afraid he would hurt me. I had this huge guard up - on top of the fact that I was studying for the bar exam. I apologized to him immediately afterwards (two days ago) and I am hopeful that he will remain a good friend. After all, everyone needs a handsome dentist in their life. I took it as a sign from God and from life that I would be okay. And I am.

On a side note, there's a bunch of songs out right now using references to diamonds. Since when did people forget that diamond's are a girl's best friend? I have this wine cup from a close friend of mine. It has those exact words: diamonds are a girls best friend. When I was young, I often referred to my friends as diamonds because diamonds are strong and bright. Plus, they make you happy.

Okay, so now that I've said all this, I want you all to know how amazing my life has been lately!!

On Friday, October 5, 2012, for some reason I didn't pack right away. I'm really not sure why - because lately I've had a terrible memory. I'm going to chalk it up to the fact that my brain has used most of its capacity on memorizing laws. In fact, it's often something my cousin, Chicka, likes to make fun of me for. She's a comedian, literally. I often hear her say: "At least you're pretty" or "Nor, wash your fucking hair!" I wash my hair every day now, needless to say. It's mostly because I couldn't take the constant taunting - and because I've noted the error of my ways in photographs. Now-a-days you'll find me sporting a sock bun.

P.s. Looked at those toned arms! Score!! I love bootcamp

So, October 5, 2012 rolls around and I was sitting in my room at 4am bawling and crying my eyes out. I was to embark on a wonderful journey to Mexico on October 6. The problem? I couldn't, for the life of me, find my fucking passport. There my mother was crying because she thought she misplaced my passport (I am still under the belief that she lost it.) My dad was searching through my room and I, for the first time in my life, cussed him out.

"Papa, I've already fucking checked my bed three times. You looking there isn't going to change the fact that it's NOT under my bed. Get out of my room. You're not going to like what you find under my bed!"

He gave me his classic "shocked face" and walked out of my room. I proceeded to cry again and wailed to the world, "that's it! I'm not going to Mexico!"

At 5:40am I was sleeping in my bed when my mother ran into my room, "I found it!"

"Go away. I'm sleeping."

"I found it! I found it"

"What? WHAT?! Where?!"

"In your suitcase."

My dad walks in. "See Nor, you WERE the one who lost it."

I looked at him, annoyed. "No, thank you. I did NOT put it in my suitcase. That's the dumbest place to put a passport."

"Go pack, we leave in 2 hours."

"Ugh."

We reach the airport and the rest of our group was venturing, slowly into the airport. We were going on a trip with 30 attorneys and friends of attorneys. My dad, who is worse at technology then I am, was staring into a giant computer.

"How do I check us in?" He asked, looking at the machine like it were a foreign object. One of the things that drives me nuts about my dad is that he literally types on a keyboard with two fingers. It makes me want to make him play the game I used to play when I was a kid: read, write and type. A God-awful game I was obsessed with that forced you to learn how to type and, quite frankly, would love to track down and play some time.

"Seriously?" I looked at him like he were an alien.

"Not all of us are travel experts like you, Mimis."

I threw my things down.

"Give me the confirmation code, I will show you how it is done."

I punched in the numbers.

'ERROR FINDING YOUR RESERVATION'

Type. Type. Type.

"ERROR FINDING YOUR RESERVATION'

"This machine is stupid."

My mom put her two cents in, "I think they gave us the wrong codes."

"Obviously." I chimed in, because that's what I'd rather believe than believing that a seasoned traveler like myself couldn't figure out how to use a computer. Stupid machine.

"Hey! I think you can put your passports in it. Give me your passport, Papa."

I took his passport. We both eyed the machine; now I felt like I was deteriorating to my father's level of technological prowess.

"Uhm, maybe you can put it in that little slot."

"Mimis, that's for credit cards."

"Yeah, but they wouldn't say you could use your passports unless you could shove a passport in there."

I proceeded to try to shove the passport into a small slot, clearly meant for a credit card. Yes. I swear I went to law school.

"What's that thing." My dad said, pointing to a little slot to the side of the screen.

"Oh, I think it's for passports...."

I wish I could say it was a hop, skip and a jump from there....but it wasn't. You see, my dumbass forgot that we had to check luggage. We had to track down a United Airlines clerk. We got onto the plane okay. As you can tell from my story, I made it back alive.

As we exited the plane in Merida, Mexico, I could only think one thing: it smells like moldy walls. Mexico in the summertime has this very distinctive smell that one can only describe as a musty, moldy wet smell. The tropical storms that plague Mexico often leave you in a state of confusion and terror as you try to figure out whether you should trek into the wind that blows away cars, at least in my head it blows away cars, or stay inside of a building and watch shopping carts fly into the store. I swear, this has happened to me.

SIDE STORY

My dad always convinces me that we should wait out storms. I don't know why I believe him. Let's picture three little kids: my brother Tavs, Chicka and myself with my dad. We were about 10, 12 and 13 in this little town called Tepotzlan.

"Look guys, everyone keeps walking in that direction. Let's follow them."

"I'm hungry." I said.

"I'm tired." Tavs said.

"I'm wearing platforms." Jessica said.

The four of us proceeded to walk over to this wooded area that resembled a place you would see in a horror film. My dad asked everyone where they were going. "It's a pyramid. Ruins. They're at the top of the mountain."

"How far away," my dad asked.

"Not far," everyone said.

We started walking. Two hours in, I had had it. I looked at my dad and said, "I'm NOT walking up this hill." "Fine, you can wait here. I knew you wouldn't be able to do it." This is a weakness of mine. I am stubborn and I like to prove people wrong. I sat with my arms crossed, angry. I watched as Tavs, Chicka and my dad walked up the hill. Then, I started to walk. I wasn't going to let my dad tell me what I could and couldn't do. Five hours later we made it to the top. Mind you, we had to walk up rickety ladders and across jagged edges. Only later to find out that there are five deaths a year up that terrible place. Chicka was complaining and irritated, "everyone kept saying we were almost there and it took us five hours to get here! I'm going to do the same thing when we walk down."

Tavs and Chicka started to walk down. I told my dad I wanted pictures by the pyramid, so we decided to meet Tavs and Chicka.

On the walk down, a tropical storm hit. My dad and I were getting drenched in hot, humid rain. I was beginning to look like a poor, little Mexican kid that belongs in the street. In fact, I actually did get some pesos from people once we finished the ordeal. My dad's bright idea? Let's stand under a rock and wait it out. Half an hour later the storm had not passed and I realized that our haven was actually a little water fall that the storm had created. My father and I proceeded to walk down as I kept getting dirt all over myself.

Meanwhile, Chicka was sitting at the bottom of the hill with Tavs. "They died. That's the only explanation, Tavs."

Tavs was crying.

"Seriously," Jessica said,"Noreen probably slipped and broke her leg and now Papa has to carry her down. Or maybe they fell off the cliff."

Tavs' eyes got big, "Maybe they drowned."

Then, there we were Papa and I walking slowly down the mountain as I pouted.

"You look like a poor, Mexican child, Weiner (my nickname)."

"Whatever."

So, again.... my dad has the uncanny ability to convince people that storms will pass - and they do, but not in the five minutes he thinks they will.

MAIN STORY LINE Whilst in Mexico, I met the governor of Yucatan and the Supreme Court Justice. I was able to meet and make some new friends. I am deadly afraid of heights, and I managed to go zip lining! It's always a beautiful moment hearing the judge you clerked for yell from behind, "Get over it and get on the zip line!"

Since my trip, I've been polishing my dim interior. All about self-image of yourself, right?

I wrote a motion for the law firm I am working, and it was granted! I am finally working my own case, under supervision - of course. Plus, a bunch of people have been telling me I am beautiful lately. My mom's friends, a gas station attendant, girls, boys. I think it's because I have this constant smile on my face at the fact that I really do have a blessed life.

Plus, I have to smile to hide the fact that I am in CONSTANT pain from training for a half-marathon. I f*cking hate running and decided it would be a good idea. I've lost about 12 pounds so far. I'd like to think of it as a total achievement. My friend Pea in a Pod and I have been texting each other non-stop. We are both re-vamping our lives and shining like the diamonds we are meant to be. She also has this uncanny ability to make me feel like I didn't do a bad thing...and that all I need to do is run an extra mile to make it all better.

I'll let you know how that marathon goes.