autumn

The first tinge of fall in Los Angeles, California sends everyone rushing for their scarves and sweaters. It is the promise of Winter, a release from the heat, that gets us going. It feels so cold I'm inclined to play Death Cab for Cutie during my German engineered seat-heater mornings, when dawn breaks too quickly and I am forced to defrost and defreeze my toes and windshield. Winter is a far more luxurious time of year than summer, it is time for Ugg slippers and cashmere sweaters instead of sweaty sandals and sunburnt shoulders. Winter is a far more nostalgic time of year as well, the palpability of the holidays reminds us all of times spent sharing a hot drink or a brisk night walk. Winter exacerbates memories long shelved and left to collect dust during the other seasons. My cuticles are cut deep and it hurts to type, to text, and to write. But this does not stop me. The familiar and consistent beat of an old song stays with me and keeps my fingers moving at a swift and confident pace. The first signs of a colder season stay with me like hot tea dripping down my throat, warming my esophagus and then my core. With good intentions and warm thoughts I will face the weather I consider cold in sunny SoCal and indulge in a luxurious winter.

SEN10RS

Entering Senior year has left me speechless. Me? I hope God/the System/you know what a baby I am. The baby in the family, the first to get cold/feel unsafe/cry. I've also been the baby physically. I was the tiniest kid growing up, petite as could be. My mother feared I would never reach 5 feet. And yet, here I stand, 5'4, entering my Senior year of High School.

Day one was painful. I woke up at 6 am, sharp, because I thought I had a lot of things to accomplish before leaving my house at 7:20. I was wrong. By 6:20 I had picked out a respectable outfit, straightened my recently cut hair, done my make up, and made a gluten-free turkey sandwich. I spent an hour picking up 2 Advil and setting them down, refusing to succumb to my recently developed Ibuprofen addiction. After parking at a meter, I started my day with Pre-Calculus. I don't need to bore you with my academic strengths and weaknesses, but generally Math whizzes aren't blog writers. After Pre-Cal I had Physics, which at New Roads High School, is the hardest class one can possibly take. The teacher, however, is incredibly passionate. Its sweet to see a middle-aged man be brought to pure bliss explaining the distance dilemma. I'd repeat it but I honestly couldn't catch a word.

And the worst part is, after working 12 long and hard years to get to the top, I have to keep on going. This ain't easy street: Honors Spanish 6, Law and Society, Pre-Calculus, Physics, Honors English 4, and Journalism. I begged my college counselor to let me drop Spanish, in which she said the following, "it separates the mice from the gorilla." And the truth is, I feel like a mouse, a good portion of the time. But, to fulfill my dream of being a USC Trojan a year from now, I must comply with the System (captial S).

I will not waste both of our time by reminiscing on the past 12 years in grade schools, nor will I grow nostalgic for what "once was." I do want to say, however, how utterly weird it is to be graduating from a school this year that I am still "new" at. I hold my old high school near and dear to my heart and have mixed feelings about not finishing up what I started with the people I truly began it with. Here's to seniors everywhere (not citizens,) to the class of 2010

CrackBerry Storm vs. Samsung Alias 2

This summer has brought many wonders, adventures, and relaxation. Along with these amenities summer brought me the biggest cell phone headache since I can remember. At the end of fifth grade I got my first cell phone and I've been technology-obsessed ever since. It became imperative to always have the latest, greatest technology. I never followed Verizon's standard 2-year contract policy which allowed me to get a new phone every 24 months. Didn't they know a cooler phone came out at least once a year? I found myself, 12 years old, shelling out $200 of birthday money annually for the out-of-contract upgrade. Upon receiving my new, shiny phone I would love it, name it, clean it, and keep it always at my side.

Roughly a year ago I got a new phone, the Samsung Alias, or SCH-U740. It was between that and the BlackBerry Curve, which has a SAR rating of 1.51 w/kg. SAR is the Specific Absortion Rate of radiation emitted from our cellphones. Although there is no conclusive evidence that this radiation is harmful, I am not one to take the risk. So, I grew satisfied with my little Samsung. It flipped in two directions and was small enough to fit in my pocket, my Marc by Marc Jacobs tiny purse, and my shoe if I had to be sneaky. And knowing me, I treated this phone like my little baby. It was almost tragic when, a month after purchase, I watched the phone fly out of my pocket and into a clean toilet. I rescued it, because, who wouldn't rescue their drowning baby?

Upon removing my phone from the toilet I put it under a hot lamp in attempts to dry it. Two hours later my phone miraculously turned on, not changed an ounce except for the "indicator." This "indicator," which detects water damage, had changed colors. I went on, for ten months, with this lovely phone, which continued to work despite its little swim. It was to my surprise, a few weeks ago, that it started malfunctioning. I will stop telling you this portion of the story, because I do not have the energy to critique Verizon Wireless for all the pain they caused me, and all the time they took from me.

Fixing my phone, which had "liquid damage" according to the lady with finger nails longer than a train opposing me at the counter, would be more expensive than getting a new one. So, after hours of research I learned that the BlackBerry Storm, had a very very low SAR rating. I went for it, bought the BlackBerry, and loved it..for a day. Which brings me to my next topic, Smartphones.

Who needs them? Where did they come from? Which is better, and iPhone or a BlacBberry? The BlackBerry I chose, the Storm, is a touch phone. It's not just any touch phone, it is a "click-to-touch" phone, which gives the user a simulated button feel. It is the single handedly most hard to use phone I have ever met. I consider myself a technologically savvy teenager, and I was stumped. It wouldn't hold a charge for even a day. And on top of the weird, confusing, impractical technology, I had to wake up with emails by my side. I couldn't, even for a moment, disconnect myself from the ubiquitous world of constant information. I gave it three weeks, three weeks to prove to me that I needed a BlackBerry at sixteen years old. And in the end I realized that a "smartphone" just isn't for me, right now. I have the rest of my life to get my email while on the freeway, so why pay the extra $30 a month for something that just doesn't serve my best interest. This is not to say that I do not fully envy how cute you look on your iPhone when it rings and sounds like a Xylophone or an old fashioned telephone. Or that when you get a BBM (BlackBerry Messenger) on your adorable new Tour that I don't cringe with a bit of jealousy. It's that right now...it's not for me.

So, with much pride and adoration, I introduce to you the Samsung Alias 2 (SCH-U750). It is the new version of my old phone and makes me feel much more at home. And, p.s., its kinda the coolest phone on the market...it has magic keys ; ). Really, if you don't believe me, see for yourself.

Raindrops on Roses and Gluten in Wheat

A week ago today I stood shaking in a doctor's office. I sat, in the waiting room, holding both of my arms to my stomach, crying. I have a severe case of needle-phobia, which I had to get over in order to find out what kind of case of Celiac Disease I have. Celiac Disease is the disease among people who's bodies cannot digest the protein found in wheat, gluten.

Now there's a word that's been spoken in my life very frequently in the past 7 months. In February, I diagnosed myself with Candida. Something had to account for my constant headaches and fatigue. The Candida diet, which attempted to clear all fungus from my intestine (yuck), was rigorous. No sugar, pasta, bread, rice, vinegar, fruit, soy sauce, ketchup, potatoes... And after two months of that, I saw a doctor, who told me the "Western World," seldom recognizes Candida as a real condition. She thought, instead, I might have Celiac disease...or a "gluten intolerance." So, after roughly 7 months of being gluten-free, I find out I do not have the very serious disease associated with gluten intolerance. I also know, due to extensive research about my potential condition, that these blood tests can easily come up as a false negative, especially for patients who are already on gluten-free diets.

So, technically, my journey to discover what I can eat and what I can't is not over. I could eat gluten (yum!) for a few weeks and then get my blood taken again. Or I could get tested for gluten intolerance or a wheat allergy...(which must be what I have..) Or, the option I favor, I could get in my car and have the first Sprinkles cupcake in 7 months.

xoxo,

natasha

Bon Jour

Of all things I have sought to accomplish, writing a blog was never on my list. However, after eating 6+ squares of Twilight themed Godiva chocolate, I have grown nauseated enough to consider this a wise idea. In addition, after running into not one, but both of my parents on the wild world of Facebook, I think blogging is an appropriate step in my growth as a virtual person. Come to think of it, I am already sick of my blog (I started writing it roughly 7 minutes ago). I attribute my short attention span to being raised in LA during the age of instant gratification.