Recap: Wedding

{The Beautiful, Blushing Bride}

My cousin married her fiance, Richard at Rancho De Las Palmas, a gorgeous ranch with a little garden and pond, on June 12. I was honored to be the candle sponsor. I was the first to walk down the aisle, but unfortunately there are no pictures to show you my terrible posture and awkward smiling! I also found out six beers in that I would be giving a toast. I almost threw up, but I think I did bloody well. Anyway, I'm glad Richard finally joined the family. Although, I've already considered him my older brother. The wedding was beautiful and tons of fun! And the next day, I wasn't even hung over!

{After Getting Our Make-up and Hair Done}

{I Specifically Asked for an Intense Red Lip}

{My Sister & I: Two Distinct & Very Different Personalities}

{Ladies in Red: Fiel, Nina, Elizabeth, Melissa, and I}

{Larizza and Her Bridesmaids}

{The Three Adorable Flower Girls}

{My Baby Sister Walking Down the Aisle}

{The Exchange of Vows}

{The Bride & Groom with the Sponsors}

{The Lovely Reception Area}

{Marian, me, and Elizabeth (I'm always drinking at family events)}

{Family Portrait}

Recap: Bridal Shower

{Pretty (Tedious) Little Party Favors}

Finding the time to update my little old blog has been rather difficult, considering that June was one of the busiest months of 2011 for me! My beautiful cousin, Larizza got married! I hosted the bridal shower, along with three of my other cousins. There were a few setbacks (like my lack of money, decorating issues, and drama involving one of the other "hosts", but for my first bridal shower party, I think it turned out awesome!

{A Game That Required Making a Wedding Dress out of Tissue Paper}

{My cousin, Elizabeth, in the Winning Dress!}

{My Babies! Fudge Marble Cupcakes with Dark Chocolate Frosting & Edible Pearls}

{Cousins (and a hint of the decorations!)}

mkp.

Best Thing.

I used to make people mix cds on a fairly regular basis. But after my last relationship, this simple, fun, and carefree act became a tedious, tiring, and annoying reminder of hoe much I fail at life. However, I recently discovered that my little cousin had saved every mix cd I had made for her in the glove compartment of her new car, so that they were ready to be listened to. Since that discovery, I've been making mix cds again (and I've been enjoying it, too!). Today, I made one for my father. I used to make him cds all the time, but when I got my driver's license and the keys to the Camry, the cd-making just stopped altogether. I figured that I'd surprise him with a pretty present, for old time's sake.

1. In the Sun - She & Him

2. You are the Best Thing - Ray LaMontagne

3. Morning - Iron & Wine

4. You are My Face - Wilco

5. Across the Universe (Nature Version) - The Beatles

6. Challengers - The New Pornographers

7. I Would Be Sad - The Avett Brothers

8. Don't Think Twice, It's Alright - Bob Dylan

9. In the Aeroplane Over the Sea - Neutral Milk Hotel

10. Acid Tongue - Jenny Lewis

11. Small Part of Me - Maria Taylor

12. Train Underwater - Bright Eyes

13. The Cave - Mumford & Sons

14. No One's Gonna Love You - Band of Horses

15. Hallelujah - Jeff Buckley

16. Grown Ocean - Fleet Foxes

mkp.

Sigh No More.

Tonight is the first night in a long time that I’ve painted in my room. For the past weeks or so, I’ve been painting with a good friend of mine at her studio about three nights a week. But tonight, I was overcome by the need to create something. And I’ve sat in front of this canvas for hours, mixing paint, breathing in the smell of linseed oil, scrutinizing every detail, with only the sound of Mumford & Sons and a cup of coffee to keep me company. I’m sore from the night before, both physically and emotionally, but I don’t care. Then, “White Blank Page” comes on, and my eyes moisten. A few moments later, they release a few drops of tears only to hit my palette. Painting is the only thing that comes naturally to me. But at the same time, I’m always so emotionally drained whenever I paint. Every painting I’ve ever done is a reflection of myself at that point in time. The process is always difficult because I’m allowing myself to feel vulnerable, for once. But the feeling I have when I finish a piece is unlike any other kind of freedom. This painting, though, is the hardest one for me yet. It’s different than my other girls. It’s a self-portrait in more ways than my previous paintings. This time, I’m not painting my narratives hidden beneath the bodies and faces of fictional appearances I’ve created in my head. This painting is of me. And it’s going to somewhat resemble me. I’m trying to be brave for once, even though I’m shy and afraid. I’m trying to say to myself that this is me, and this is what I’m going through, and that is what I look like. And even though I don’t like it, its okay. I’m putting myself all out there for anyone to see and judge or do whatever they want. I’m scared, but I’ll keep going just because I already started.

Oh, and I buzzed the side of my head.

mkp.

A Swelling Rage, Raaaage.

Mumford & Son's album, Sigh No More, has been the soundtrack to my life as of late. It plays during long drives in my car, while I'm painting all night with Lindsay, in my bedroom as background noise as I'm playing the Sims. And it's playing right now, while I'm tightly clenching my fists. I can't punch any walls or chainsmoke on my windowsill because I've got company tonight.

Today my mother and I had another fight. Last night, there was a little blow-out too. But because my family from out-of-town has been with us for the past week or so, she wouldn't hit me. I wish she did. I wish she could just do it so everyone would know and so that I could stop pretending that everything isn't always so fucking perfect all the time. I'm tired of always looking like the suspect here. I'm not perfect, but this isn't fair either. I hate that I am 20 years old and still treated like a child. I'm never bestowed a single amount of trust and I hate it. My little 16 year old cousin is allowed more than I. She's already started driving, and she's got a job, and she's always done really well at school, and she's landed a cute British boyfriend, and she's going to the East Coast all by herself in a few weeks. My mother tells her that she's proud of her, but I could see from the corner of my eye the disappointment she has in me that lies deep in her heart. Because I am nothing and that's how I've always been to her. Nothing, or not enough. I'm her 20 year old clumsy, outspoken, gay, fuck-up child who wants to be an artist. I don't have a job. I don't do all that well in school. I invest time and effort into things she will not believe in. But for some reason, she still holds on to that little sliver of hope that I will change my mind and turn around and be that daughter that she's always wanted. I wanted so badly to scream in her face to tell her to just let me go already, but instead I picked up my bags and dove under the covers. Last night, I fought back my desire to stand up for myself. I was choking on tears as I locked myself in the guest bathroom. Defeated, again, in a battle I never had a single chance at winning. And I fooled no one in doing so, because when I walked out with red, swollen eyes, everyone came to comfort me, hug me, tell me they were sorry. I didn't mean to act the way I did. I should've just taken it instead of "given attitude", and believe me, I know I was wrong. Believe me, when I finally leave from here, you won't have to deal with my attitude again.




mkp.

White Blank Page.

I've been wanting to write for so long. But my internet was shit, and I didn't have a reliable computer, so now that I'm typing this up on my slow desktop, all the things I had originally wanted to write about are of no real importance anymore. The only thing on my mind is leaving. Perhaps it's just a little fantasy of mine... to pack up all my things one day and go off to some random place without telling anyone, on a whim; to leave unhesitantly and to never return. Of course, that's just a fantasy... I'd have to leave everything and everyone I love all behind. No more weekly paint sessions with Lindsay, no more sleepovers with Liz, no more little kickbacks with friends at Shell's. No more Harry Potter movie marathons, baking extravaganzas, waking up in the comfort of my cozy, little, pink room. And not to mention, life would be hard. So to backtrack a little, I had a great combined birthday party (though I missed the company of 2 other celebrants who also happen to be 2 close friends). I eased a little tension with her new girlfriend, and covered for her. I didn't want to, but I'm trying to be the bigger person, here. I got closer to someone who used to only be a friend you saw at parties, and to another whom I only spoke to on tumblr. And today, I was visited by an old high school friend who treated me to Thai dinner after watching The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. But I can't help but look at all these great things I've got going on for me, and have my head filled with the desire to leave it all behind and just be on my own. I feel stupid and weak for my attachment to certain people, as if I can't rely and trust only myself. I feel pathetic when my feelings are hurt and when I cry over fickle situations and poeple who don't deserve my tears. I feel like my name carries too much of a reputation that my identity doesn't fit into. I love it here, I really do. But I also hope to leave and never return. And I'll just be that familiar stranger that walks in and out of your dreams. I'll be that distant memory that pops into your head whenever you bite into a cupcake or hear that one Bright Eyes song. I will be that scent you smell when you open up a box full of old memories.

You'll never see me again.

mkp.