Coloradans..wait..Coloradoans?

HOLY HABERDASHY BATMAN! -Robin

   Guys, guys, it has been too long. But I have a good excuse, I moved into my new house and have spent every other minute unpacking or doing homework. It's great.

    Today though my topic will not involve either of those; today, I will be talking about a family with an aversion to cowmilk.

    You see before moving into our lovely new home, my family stayed with another family at their lovely home until we could close on our house. It was...an interesting experience. After getting my dinner plate, and turning around to find my dinner plate mysteriously gone with alot of innocence in the air...I knew I'd get along with these folks.
  
   It was alot of fun living with them; I mean honestly when I met Heather I was thrilled to meet someone just as dramatic me. I had to learn that no, you don't hug Matt and calling the petbird Sushi is generally frowned upon. I discovered the way of the gluten free and how one goes about that path (a good three-fourths of the family is gluten intolerant). I discovered that in 2012 people still write letters, Ben writes them! And Elisa likes chocolate and cherry cake (ew, still love you Elisa). I learned that Mr. Steve is a Republican after his third joke about Democrats (which WAS NOT nice). I learned that Mrs. Jennifer lived in two different countries. And you can imagine what they learned about me...

     There was quite a bit of joking around, quite a bit of teasing, and quite a bit of personal conversations and growing together as two families.

And well, I hate to say this so others can gloat (*cough* *cough*) but I might kind of possbly miss y'all. It's weird not having as many people to tease or be teased by.


Over and out.
Love,
Cailin

Video of the Day:

I thought this was very creative, and well, brilliant.

Shoutout of the Day:

To all the people at my church that have befriended me and made me feel so welcome, y'all are awesome. You guys make my Sundays awesome and warm fuzzy days. Thank you. 

What Grown-folks Teach

Another opinion piece written by me for AP Lang. Enjoy!

What Grown-folks Teach
by Cailin Rogers

Trust me, as much as I would love to rip my claws into the debate and have people lose respect for me merely for making scathing remarks, I don't want blood on my hands. This unfortunately leaves me with zero writing ideas. Let's see...abortion, already done...homosexuality…written...obviously, everything is taken!
    Aha! Now, what better topics to expand upon, then on what our very dear mommies and daddies and aunties and uncles have taught us? What little golden nuggets of knowledge have they lovingly placed into our hands? (And by our hands I mean our American hands.)
    Firstly and lastly. The Alpha and Omega piece of wisdom that they wish to give us: Money is God. Family matters, of course, but Money is what matters most. Why else would there not be a national limit to how many hours you work? Why it seems your life revolves around dollars and cents, how much you are reminded the amount it costs for you to just stand there. Understand the fact that you live on a ladder called career, and you must constantly be looking at the rung above yours. It is your moral obligation that at Thanksgiving and during the holidays you look at a rung below yours, but by January 1^st, your eye better be on the top rung.  
    In sequential order with the last tidbit, stuff is important. By stuff I mean houses, cars, computers, horse-drawn carriages, and you better pray to Money if you don’t have the most recent iPhone.  Make sure you have more or as much as your neighbor. This may be difficult if you and your neighbors haven’t spoken a word since your neighbor knocked on your door and you promptly discovered at six on a Saturday morning, that he was a Jehovah’s Witness, and he discovered you wore pajama pants with duckies on them. Be sneaky, peek through windows and make sure you always have a trusty pair of binoculars with you. Send your children to borrow cups of sugar, and then interrogate them on the inside of the neighbors’ home.  Remember, stuff is imperative to life.  
    Comparisons are also part of life. It is totally okay for you to look at a celebrity and compare the size of your anatomy to his/hers because that body part is totally real. It is also okay for you to have a low self-esteem and feel the need to change yourself, because honey, even models think they’re fat. I mean, if it wasn't why would our magazines, TV, and the beautiful wonderful Internet be covered with images of these individuals and ways for us to cure this apparent ailment?  This is also a challenge, you can have her size thighs, haven’t you heard if there’s a will there’s a way? Achieve this challenge, and all doors will be opened, you will be the life of every gathering you attend.
    The final parting words on every dying adult’s lips are two words. Be yourself.  No matter what that entails, getting a tattoo you’ll regret when your 35? Go for it. Experimenting with sketchy substances? Proud of you. Risk being stuck paying child support for an ungodly amount of time? You go kid. Because you’re being yourself, and as long as you’re being yourself, no harm no foul, no wrong can come from you being yourself.  
   So there you have it peers, all the things you are being taught by grownups. Now, all you have to do is pass that onto your children. They’ll appreciate it, I guarantee.

NOTE: The author's parental units have not taught her these values. Although the author has had to knock on a neighbor's door and awkwardly ask for two eggs because her mother refused to go all the way to the grocery store for two eggs.

Quick Pre-Chem Post

I have to go to my hipster small group (that is how it will be referred to from this moment forward). And before that I have to finish my chemistry because I HAVE to have a good grade in that class. Goodness life is stressful.

   Anywho I got a lot of views on my last post, YAY!! So thanks guys, feel free to comment on any of my posts and post them on facebook or twitter. Kay cool, bye.

Over and out!
Yours,
Cailin

I am truly Ditzy

You know those annoying people that just bump into things and leave their stuff everywhere?

I have a confession to make.

I, Cailin Rogers, plead guilty in the incident in which I forgetfully left my purse at Noodles and had to go back right before they closed to retrieve said item.

I, Cailin Rogers, also plead guilty to the incident in which I did not pay attention to my doting mother's instructions and accidentally made a whole pot of decaf when she only wanted two cups. 

I, Cailin Rogers, also plead guilty to the incident in which I was not paying full attention and my phone took a swim in the family washer. 

I sneak nutella out of the jar too. I'm doing it right now actually. Oh, I'm a naughty naughty child. Sigh... 

    Anyways, the point of this post is not to beat myself up about all of my accidents and mistakes, if I never made any, I'd have no stories to tell. I wanted to talk about the day after Saturday. Can anyone guess what that day is? ....SUNDAE! (btdubbs misspelled that on purpose, I am somewhat aware of how to spell days of the week). 

   Now you're quieting your applause, and a few of you are sarcastically asking me, Cailin, where the expletive are you going with this? Calm down child, I'm getting there. Sunday is actually my favorite day of the week. Sure you have to scramble to finish all your homework, and you have that preMiserableMonday feeling in the pit of your stomach, but I actually love Sundays.

   First, I go to church in the morning, *cough* goody two shoes *cough choke*  we serve donuts yo, come at us bro. At church I get to drink coffee, hug people, and hang out with them and just, be myself, (which that whole being yourself thing might not make sense to you, but if you ever meet me in person, I totes will enlighten you) which is completely refreshing.

  Second, I get to just chill and hang out with my awesome family. Sometimes it's going out to eat or playing at a park. Sometimes it's just everybody looking at each other and then saying "NAPTIME" in unison. It's good stuff. 

  Third, I go to a small group that's a bunch of families that have decided to live life together, and lemme tell you, it's pretty cool. I have some really solid friends there so I enjoy going and doing something I've never done before, because I don't know a single small group that's done this style before. So yeah, I like my hipster small group. 

And that is all folks I hope you have a good day and-WAIT ALMOST FORGOT VIDEO AND SHOUTOUTS.

Video of the Day: 

I figured it semi-correlated with my theme, right? Right. 

Shoutouts of the Day: I would like to give a shoutout to the people at my lunch table. THAT'S RIGHT GUYS, CAILIN IS NO LONGER A LONER. WOOT. WOOT.  You guys rock. And two, I would like to give a shoutout to whoever has complimented my pink rain boots, I kind of love the idea of standing out, and wearing rain boots in Colorado seems to be the ticket. I wear the footwear I wear for you people! Oh, goodness...

Over and out. 

Love,
Cailin

Miserable Monday

Kay so today was one of those Miserable Mondays...those icky yucky life really sucks kinda days. So since I had one of those days, I wanted to give tips on how you can avoid letting Mr. Miserable Monday suck you down.

1. Fun food. You know you had a terrible day, treat yourself! Whether it's nutella or animal crackers, give yourself a little indulgence.

2. Friends. If you have them, call them up and set up a hangout.

3. Music. Listen to happy music. Psychology says we have a tendency to cheer up when our music is cheery.

4. Youtube and MLIA. Find some vloggers you like that you will enjoy. And MLIA? Well, I'll let you find that one out for yourself.

So yeah...DFTBA!

Video of the Day:

Shoutout of the Day:
I would just like to shoutout to a guy I ran into like literally thirteen times today in the span of five minutes. It was awkward for me as well....see you tomorrow.

Over and out!
Love you,
Cailin

I Fell In Love...with Myself. (WARNING: LENGHTY)

   My dear beautiful readers, we have spoken of my love for theater. My insatiable, unhealthy love for the world of performing arts, yes, I believe we spoke of such. (For those who are not theatrically inclined, I will not judge if you close out of this blog and go look up videos of cats on Youtube instead. I like cats.)

   Well this past week I decided to audition for a nine person show at my (relatively new) school. So did 120 others...so naturally, I'm freaking out, how am I gonna do this? After taking multiple deep breaths, I decided on a monologue I already semi-remembered and had already used as an audition piece.

  I began my D-day (audition day) like any other day, tell myself to not worry and move on, and for a time it works. Then as the day progresses, that advice loses it's charm and my stress snowballs. The school bell rings, I'm tapping my foot, drumming my fingers, it's like I've had 4 Red Bulls. Nope, just bout to audition.

 I go to an area where it seems many theatrical folks are about to audition. I begin fill out a form and have a pang of homesickness. I miss my theater family... What accent can you perform? Southern. Any special talents? Southern charm. And I can make sweet tea as well.

  Turn in the form, I have a good twenty minutes before my appointment. Meandering, I hear people laughing in a room that looks disorganized enough to be a theater classroom. Here goes nothing... I walk in; someone's performing their monologue. I hang back. Once noticed, I say hi, give my name. They ask me to do my monologue which I have NOT practiced. Here goes nothing AGAIN...sure...

 My fingers are tingling, my foot itches to tap again. First impressions are important, and I wanted to impress these strangers. I perform. Surprisingly, they laugh (it is a funny monologue). And surprisingly, I did a good job. One says it's the best they've seen. I blush, been awhile since I heard that. Well, it's time to step up to the plate and batter up chica, so go do what you only do best.

  My audition time.I walk up to the stage where a bright spotlight is shining. My heart is working overtime like it's boss is over its shoulder. Just walk up the steps, stare into the blinding light. And for a moment, I am home. Then I say my slate and begin my monologue. 

   It's a beautiful experience when for the first time in an audition, you semi-confidently speak your piece with eloquence and during the entire monologue you're thinking, 'Wow, I'm doing a good job.' The director laughs at the right parts, my confidence builds. Once I'm finished he says, "Hey can you do this more of an inner rage version than passive aggressive?" You betcha. After the first couple lines, I kinda just went improv. And he laughs again. He asks a few more questions, I answer them as wittingly as possible and leave.

   Afterwards, I feel surreal. I am so pleased with myself. I realize, I don't even care if I make it into the show (which is good cause I didn't) I was so proud of what I did.

   So yeah..I got callbacks, one out of 36 and did a couple cold reading skits, which was fun. One required me meditating, and since I've never meditated, I just pulled a meditating pose and sang the first part of the Lion King. (The Nawn NaPHWEN YA lalaleelosoPA bit.) Only the front row could hear me, and they were cracking up, which made everyone think they were weird cause they had no clue what was so funny about my serious meditation.

   So yeah...didn't make the cut, but I still enjoyed myself.
Video of the Day:

A reward for those who read all of this instead of skipping to cat vids.

Shoutout of the Day: I was feeling a wee bit self conscious after callbacks, wandering how I did and such, and two people took time out of their day to tell me I did a really good job. And that made my day. So thanks guys. :)

Over and out.

Love,
Cailin

AP Lang Piece

Hey guys! I have been kind of swamped with all of the crap I've had to do lately, so bear with me, I'll try to roll in the content more often.

   Anywho, I wrote a piece in my AP Language class and had to post it on this blog page and all that jazz for a grade. So far it has 0 likes, 0 comments, 22 views and counting. People are viewing it, but no comment. So, it means A: my essay was too ballsy for some people, or B: people are too lazy, or even C: not enough people know me in that class so they don't know how I would respond to commentation. Whatever. Thought I'd show you what I wrote, I'm quite proud of it.

The Taboo that Kills

by Cailin Rogers

What can you do in twenty-six seconds?  Can you tie your shoes, throw a grape in the air and catch it, post a witty tweet? Time seems to rush so fast, twenty-six seconds seem miniscule on a grand scale. But every twenty-six seconds someone is forced into sex slavery. Trapped in the worst of terrors, an unimaginable number of people are forced into the sex trafficking business.

Oops.

   Sorry, I forgot I am not supposed to talk about those kinds of things with my young impressionable peers. Some of you might cringe, some scroll onto a different article, because honestly nobody likes to read about this topic; you want to read something satirical and comedic.  My sincerest apologies, but I’ve stood toe to toe with sex-trafficking and we’ve given each other a good looking over. Neither of us like what we see.
    We all have a different exposure to sex-trafficking.  My story of exposure isn’t even mine, but needs to be shared. Once upon a time there was a girl named Shaniya Davis. This beautiful black girl was reported missing by her school and people started looking for her. She was found, luckily. In a garbage bin…in a trash bag…dead. It was discovered that she was raped to death, sold by her parents who were assumed to be loving and caring, for drugs.

Shaniya Davis was five years old. She had just started kindergarten.

    This story played out in where I was living at the time, Fayetteville, NC, the armpit of America. We were in an uproar, how could this happen? This shouldn’t and couldn’t happen to five year olds! But that was before it came to my attention that five year olds are sold every day to be raped by big scary men. In fact, nowadays three year olds are really in.

This is bad. I don’t even think I need to tell you that. But that’s not the worst bit.

   The worst bit is that there are millions of Americans who are quite a bit like you and me are. Privileged. Now, you may be thinking, um Cailin, I’m not privileged, I don’t have the iPhone 5. You have a roof over your head, food in your belly, and you are relatively safe. You are privileged.  Anyways, there are millions of you and me out there, and what do the vast majority of us do about this increasing issue?

Ignore it. Pretend it doesn’t happen.

    Today, I challenge you. Challenge you to fight the apathy that has invaded America and my generation in particular. Don't go all 'I'm only one person' on me, for godsakes, Gandhi quit eating and he stopped a civil war! I believe you have the skills to make a difference, and I believe we as privileged owe it to the oppressed to hold out our hand for them to grasp. Think, then do.
NOTE: I work with an anti-sex trafficking organization based in Australia (because Aussies are in fact, aussome). If you want to make a difference with this issue Destiny Rescue has multiple options to assist you on the matter .

Thanks guys for reading! Comment if you wish. 

Over and out.

Love,

Cailin