Ocean's

I'm not so sure I trust these oriental food stores. These Chinese to English translations have questionable meanings, I know it. A couple of my favorites:

"Happy Swallow" (noodles)

"Cock Soup" (chicken broth)

"Horny Goat" (Chinese tea - meant to enhance fertility)

"Turkey Balls" (frozen, breaded turkey nuggets)

Never have I seen another language that had "fried children(chicken)" on their menu. Seems a little grim, to be honest.

Now, I'm not one to judge Asians - don't get me wrong.  I just think they need to get their minds out of the gutter. =P

Anticipation

Well, the days are closing in, and I'm getting nearer to preparing for my show. 22 days. It's going to be a long, ridiculous 16 weeks of eating nothing but celery, wood chips, and some chicken breast.

Well. At least that's what all my food is going to taste like, anyway.

And then those will be glorious times. My body will most likely have no weight by the time I'm stepping on stage, in which case I will be floating around the ceiling and entering the door to my house via the mail slip. I may even disappear completely.

.....eerie.

However, I'm determined to make the most out of all of this, and keep people updated on all the emotional rollercoasters I'll be crashing about during that time frame. I'm just a little frightened of perhaps losing my mind, internal organs, or anything else very close and dear to me.

Don't worry though, it really isn't all as bad as it sounds. However, I won't be eating junk food for 6 months. And then I will have pizza backstage...it's going to be the best fucking pizza I've ever tasted.

But then, let's just see if I survive all of it first.

No One's Ever Satisfied...

I miss the times when life was simple.

And all I thought about was, "Hey, I'd love a job so I can get money and afford things I want." That would solve all my problems. ALL of them.

So I'm sitting here now...with a job...and I had to sacrifice all my time just so I can make sure I keep it. I get up at 5am, work till 8, have school until 3, work until 5pm, hit the gym, get back home and eat, work another couple of hours, and I'm in bed by 9-9:30. BAM. That's my life at the moment.

Ever wonder why I don't call you as often as I say I will/should? Now you know.

Oh, the things we do for paper. *sigh*

Facepalm

Mom: *hands me a new water bottle* I'm going to my room now, but before you go to the gym let me show you how to use it.

Me: Uhh....it's just a water bottle, I don't think it's rocket science. See. *opens cap, pushes down button on top* There. Open.

Mom: Okay.

10 minutes later...

Me: *pushes down button on top, tries to drink, and spills the water all over herself*  WHAT the FUCK!

Mom: *points to label on the side which says, "do not attempt to drink directly from cap"*

Me: ...........................................

Mom: I could have told you that.

2010 - Big Plans? Not Sure.

My plans (so far) for 2010:

- Rock the figure stage on June 5, win a trophy, and eat some pizza.

....and I'm trying to plan out the rest. So far, that's as far ahead as I can see, unfortunately. Let's just get past this competition, and then figure out other things from there.

New Year's Eve party was completely insane. I got raped by several women, and sang karaoke with a bunch of drunkards.

I hope everyone else had a smashing time.  <3

Post-Christmas Welfare

Thus the stressful holiday has passed. I have climbed out from underneath the Christmas rubble, and I may now dust myself off and resume regular day-to-day activities, such as surfing dating websites for someone named Herman, and eating sticky oatmeal with cinnamon every morning. Such is the life of Christine Marie Beauchamp.

Now, lately I've been having a lot of unprecedented ideas as to what to make of my life in this coming new year. I figure you never really know how long you're going to be around (which is a very fatalistic POV, and perhaps a little grim, but 100% honesty nevertheless.) so I might as well make the most of what time I have. Therefore, I don't want to put anything off unless I absolutely have to. Which means, giving 110%, whether that's with studying, training, partying, or anything else really. And it's bloody-well time too. 

Also, this movie looks absolutely brilliant:

It's one of my most favorite novels ever, so I hope they did McCarthy some justice. I can't wait to see this.

Can't Wait For This Year to End

Too much of a good thing is bad.

Too much of a bad thing, is well....probably a little bit worse.

Christmas has left be broke, tired, and a bit wired out. I still have to ship cards and letters to soldiers overseas, cookies to my sister, and packaged noodles to the handicapped people in China. My life is very busy, you see.

However, once New Years comes, I have the right to do whatever the hell I want. The day before New Years I shall be extremely unorthodox, perhaps create a little bit of disorder and chaos, and then shrug it off as "a thing of the past". I want new horizons this coming year.

I spent tons of $$ on stocking stuffers and gifts this year. I literally laughed out loud when I checked my balance yesterday...I might have even shed a tear...just a little one...

Oh, if I forgot to get any of you something this year, it was probably because I don't love you, and I want you out of my life.

-CHRISTINE

P.S. Kidding about the "I don't love you" part. I do, really.

P.P.S. Well. Most of you. (=

Unbelievable...

Is it even possible...


....that one could get so little sleep?

I feel like I'm about to fall over.

I might need crutches the next few days.

Bah! Humbug.

 I am your typical Scrooge.

And I have reason to be anything otherwise. Christmas is a mess. You trudge out in the snow, ruin your clothing, heave your way into a car with a frozen heating system, and shiver your way to the mall. You then run around from store to store for 5 hours, hoping to come out with something decent, only to find that you don't, in fact, have any money whatsoever. So after waiting those 2 hours in line, you're a little stressed...not to mention the line behind you is a little stressed when you try to pay for your prada bag in pennies. You leave the store disoriented, aged a good fifty years, and armed with bubble-blowers.

Then, of course, everyone expects you to to bake for them. You spend hours toiling over decadent, sexual little morsels of goodness, only to have them inhaled within a second of putting them on the table. The dinner isn't much better. By the time you reach your hand over for the bowl of cranberry sauce, the other guests have already stuck their straws in the dish and sucked out the remains. Wine? Ham? That horrible sweet potato mash that no one seems to like, but still snarf it down any year anyway? Forget it. Don't expect to eat for the next three days.

Call me a little bitter, but I'd much rather have a holiday that celebrated the existence of the English language. At least then everyone would be too bored to participate, and I could eat my gingersnaps in peace.

The World's Most Beautiful Faces

I have begun a quest. I'm really very excited.

These are the tools which shall help me:

 

I'm going to begin a journey to find the world's most beautiful faces. I have a dream of photographing as many faces of those I meet that I can, in attempts to burrow deeper into the understanding of human emotion, thought, behavior, and character. So if you randomly have me approach you and demand you let me take a picture of you, you will understand the reasoning behind it all.

So there you have it. My journey. And it begins post-Christmas, when I have this lovely little thing in my grubby, greedy little hands.

Au revoir.