"We thank you for your patience…"

I knew this customer service call was going to be just great as I listened to the representative on the line say, “Ooohhhhhhhhhhhh no,” as he looked at what I presume is our account history. 

"This is bad…..I mean….aghhhhhh…..this…….just….doesn’t really……this is bad."

I don’t mean to be impertinent but in light of more devastating events such as the missing Malaysian plane, or the US  health care system, this pales in comparison. Still, I chose to approach this situation (and I mean no offense when I say this) with an Italian mindset: Yes, this company had wronged me and I was going to milk it for all it was worth. 

An hour and a half later, I successfully completed my goal.

extra credit to bill and a glass of white wine in my hand. 

I feel,

like a champion of adult life.

suck it.



What if I started running triathalons? what if?? ha ha ha…no

Since a certain someone came to visit in Feb/March my whole family has become obsessed with almonds. I think I’m addicted too.


Dear customers of the Cube,

Writing “you are beautiful” on the receipt signature line does NOT COUNT as an official signature. (While I am flattered, you are not making my job easier)


Dear customers of the Cube,

Please enunciate when you give me your delivery orders over the phone, because sometimes you sound like this:

"Yes, I want a blahgjhsf fjfbk afbjkdfsjbfd and some mashhhhhced cheesssssssdub fiefdsssssss withn honeyyyuhs and no msdfso sdfbos, Oh and cjak youu add dnosdjng gofgkf dofg?"

Got it. 


Dear future cloned-Pau,

Please take over my work hours so I can devote my real time to arts and craft projects, flying around the world to visit all my best friends, learning how to cook properly, and eat more almonds…



A Love Letter to Faraway Dreams

There are some days when I feel so frustrated by how far away and impossible my goals and heart of hearts desires can be. 


I will describe these things in memories.

I must have been five or so, and mom took me to the store and let me put a quarter into one of those plastic motorized ponies that would sway mechanically from side to side. It was a quarter’s worth of fantasy in which I was a cowgirl on the range.

I remember Papi and Mom telling me in that I told you so voice, that I could really be missing out if I didn’t go with them to the friend of a friends party for people who had just moved back from D.C to Bosque Farms. “I think Fernando has horses,” Papi said. I grabbed my purse and jumped in the car. 

I remember the drive from our house at 408 to the grandparent’s house in Rio Rancho. Sometimes Mom would take Rio Grande so we could pass all the fancy horse farms while I glued my face to the window.

I remember my first proper lesson at Liz Sanchez, Margarita, the slowest arabian and barely alive. I reveled in the idea of cross ties and saddling my own horse and Rocky, the brown easy going appendix quarter horse.

I remember North Valley Equestrian Center, where I attended my first show, I made my first horse friends, and worked in exchange for lessons.

I remember when my soccer coach Ralph pulled me aside one day after practice to give me one of his old racing saddles, because he knew I loved horses. 

I remember weekend trail rides with Fernando and how he compared all his horses to cars. My favorite horse in the world, a beautiful golden buckskin mare who loved to be outside, who I chased around the pasture with carrots in my hand, and who had a stubborn streak that humbled me so many times. 

I remember Fox Meadow Farms, where the nicest horsewoman in the world gave me the benefit of the doubt and hired me to work for my lessons. I remember feeling all the stress of school and deadlines and GPA’s and organic chemistry leave me the moment I stepped into the barn. In that arena, nothing existed except me and whichever horse was putting up with me that day. I volunteered to work weekends, and found sanity in the deep satisfaction that comes with physical labor. 

Then there was RTR, where everything I love in this world came together in the most beautiful and incredible way. This may be my last summer there and I plan on enjoying it to the fullest. 

While cleaning my room after school, I suddenly felt that fire, that intense longing, for the countryside, the smell of sawdust and grass, and the familiar sight of a horse. I have never been so frustrated to be in the city.

Dear hopes and dreams,

I miss you.




pumpkin smoothy by the pioneer woman. Tried it for breakfast this morning and it is delish

Dear Pinterest,

I tried making your super healthy pumpkin breakfast smoothie.

I followed the recipe.

and it was…GROSS. 

Thanks for crushing my hopes and dreams. 



p.s I don’t care how you dress it up, almond milk is still yucky. 

What if we all talked like newscasters, all the time?

This Monday is my one and only day of spring break. I am also so sad because it’s almost over. 

 Today I felt like Harry with his bottle of felix felicitus: absolutely nothing could go wrong. 


I spent my morning stretching and catnapping under my comforter, then moved to my desk with a bowl of honey bunches of oats and all the letters/paperwork I’ve been trying to finish for the past week. I shopped, I shipped things at the post office, and I FINALLY found a pair of wrangler jeans and a pink button down shirt for Fridays. I finished the work on old panasonic bike, battled the wind and all the massive cracks on the street, then returned home for some extreme moose tracks ice cream.


Papi chased me around the kitchen when he discovered I wasn’t wearing any green. I have to admire his commitment to the holidays. He’s puts flour in his hair and charcoal lines on his face for Halloween and for today, a really adorable hand cut shamrock pin made of recycled green cardboard. When I saw it carefully pinned to his old sweater, I just laughed.

I love my dad.

I know it’s cheesy, but continuing with that thought, I also love my mom. We left the house on the premise of getting bananas and ended up, inevitably, at the thrift shop, and then Ross. I found the Star Wars trilogy on VHS and spent way to long trying to reconcile my body with a random assortment of swim suits. ( As a sidenote: there are some bikinis I encountered today that were so unsightly, NO ONE should be allowed to wear them. )

I know she had work and was tired, but my mom volunteered to drive. After living away from home for so long, I’ve really come to appreciate those rare hours when we can chat and drive and I can critique my her alarming driving style. She, in turn, exclaims for the nth time about how I always drive with my seat straight up (it’s for my posture silly) and “too close” to the gas and brake pedal. 

Though it only lasted a day, it was one of the best vacations I’ve ever had. 


On achievement and life and such.

[I wrote this as night so please excuse any and all typos]

[also, Italian students, if you are still fb friends and are trying to read this, I’m sorry for difficult english constructions, and also, I miss you. ]

Today I was a substitute teaching for an art class at the Academy. There is a lot I could write about regarding that hour long period of hovering obnoxiously over high school students, but, I really got to thinking a lot more about the question I had to answer before any of the teaching even started; a question I’ve been asked so many times since getting back from Italy and revisiting old friends.

“So tell me, what have you been up to?”

Maybe I should add the context to this particular situation.

“So tell me, what have you been up to (since I last saw you at your high school graduation ceremony in 2009)?

When you’re asked a question like that, there really isn’t a whole lot of time for pause or reflection. Which us rather unfortunate. In that moment, it incited in me a similar feeling that I encountered only a year before I graduated in 2009,

“What colleges are you applying to?”

Or even better,

“What did you get on your SAT?”

Instinctually, I wanted to say something impressive, something of note that would befit an Academy graduate. I mean, how many times had the Academy preached to me how special I was, how unique, how talented? I was, after all, an investment in the future. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not hating on supportive statements that instill hope and self-confidence; I’m just saying those adjectives paint a picture of the future that does a great job selling a private school but has the same level of abstraction as world peace: It’s easy to say, but more challenging to describe and/or achieve.

So I started with the basics.

“I’m here in Albuquerque. I’m going to school part-time and working part time. In April I’ll be flying out to California to meet up with my boyfriend and road trip back to Colorado for the summer.

What else could I have said?

“Well, I brushed my teeth almost every day, I moved around a lot, I talked and sometimes, I was asleep.”

I followed my gut and did not use that as my response.

Anyway, the question got me thinking (once again) about what it’s like to be 23 and graduated and trying to “figure everything out.” The first thing you realize is that there are absolutely no rules or guidelines about the years that follow. To use a cheesy bowling metaphor, life after college I like playing the game for the first time without bumpers. The fear you will roll a gutterball is imminent, the floor is so shiny, and to succeed all of a sudden seems kinda hard.

Ok I am taking this too far. Bowling is an awful way to talk about life after college.

Still, I was always used to strategizing. With bumpers, you can calculate angles of impact, or at least, are guaranteed that you WILL HIT SOMETHING. In college/high school/being a child, I was constantly learning and refining my skills at operating within limits. Rules, structure, schedules, advisor meetings, credit hours, semesters…these were my limiting factors. Time Management Skills, they call it. By the time I graduated from Smith, I felt proud of my mastery of this way of life. Unfortunately, life after college is very unlike college.

I’ll switch to art, something I know a great deal more about than bowling.

In art, the idea is the same: without limits, it’s easy to feel lost.

For example, if you give me 10 nails, a block of wood, sandpaper, and some black paint, I can go to town making and inventing different variations of beautiful objects made solely out of those materials. Flexibility always seems to thrive and grow within limited conditions. As does creativity. Now, however, if you were to tell me to make whatever I wanted, however I wanted, and with whatever I wanted, everything comes to a dead stop. To make progress given infinite possibility can often be like trying to drag massive blocks of cement across a carpet—there’s a lot of friction. When I was taking my senior seminar in conceptual artwork, I came to understand this concept very well. I was given a small white cubicle studio with no natural light, monthly deadlines for critiques, and basically no rules. The only directive was our theme, “failure”, which seemed highly ironic at the time, given that after the first month, no one had produced much work, we were all frustrated and definitely feeling the pressure to perform. A wiser artist might have recognized the dangers inherent in a structureless class but I was the student, not the teacher.

The second semester I had learned my lesson. I made up my own limits (which at the time felt somewhat random and definitely unfounded in adult official stamp of approval). The second semester, as you might imagine, was much more stimulating and exciting. I did some of my best thinking and creating then.

So I suppose what I’d like to conclude with, as a sort of idea, is that I’ve realized that life after college is only so shocking because it is like nothing I have ever worked at before. It freaked me out because it doesn’t come with an expected graduation date, or an expected achievement level, or rules about a family, or what kind of car you should buy, or when you should actually do your taxes, or how much is reasonable to expect for your salary.


That’s what Google, Wikipedia, about.com, and the REST OF THE INTERNET is for.

All my love,



Hi, I have the worst attention span right now so I’m going to do this post LIST STYLE.

What I am currently doing with my life (In General)

1. Attending CNM, Albuquerque’s foremost community college (and probably also it’s cheapest) for a Statistics class and a Biology for health majors class. 

2. Working part time as a server at the Diners and Drives popular restaurant, The Cube.

3. Pretending to train for two 5Ks coming up in ten days and 30 ish days, respectively. 

4. Using my 15% discount to buy chocolate chip cookies….(not helping with the 5k prep, but really really really delicious…)

5. Counting down the days until the end of April. Currently: 50

6. Filling in the rest of my time with sleep, netflix, and soon substitute teaching for the Academy Art Department!

Price Moments working at the restaurant:

1. Going up to a man with incredibly long hair and his girlfriend/wife/friend? sitting opposite him and saying, “Hello Ladies, what can I get for you today?”

2. Somehow getting all the bizarre phone calls:

unknowncaller1: "Uh hey, do you guys like, have live music and stuff? I’m calling from Austin Texas. My band is trying to plan a tour and we wanted to know if you guys want to be part of our awesome show."

3. Talking to the regulars:

"You see, my plan is to be a billionaire, to have a huge house and provide for my girlfriend, and have a mistress that looks just like you.."

Things I dream about (and how I console myself for lack thereof…)

1. The ranch, the countryside and being on the back of a different horse every day. 

comfort: Watching cheesy horse movies on netflix and polishing my belts and boots. AND/OR shopping for western apparel online.

2. My two sisters who are in Boston and Spain

comfort: talking to Cuzco the cat.

3. The road trip I’ll be taking from California to Colorado.

comfort: drinking coffee from my California mug and watching episodes of Top Gear

4. Owning a ranch or a bed and breakfast of my own, with an artists studio, some horses, and lots of trees. 

comfort: Watching more cheesy horse movies and working diligently in my classes. 

5. Having a gas tank that never runs out of gas. 

comfort: pretending that I have a gas tank that never runs out of gas.

I will leave the lists as is, and add more to them later. This is the beginning of me writing consistently again. 






They made SO MANY.

All for cheesy horse movie junkies…like me.

Tags: s

Reasons why today sucked

Danny: “Yeah, I’m having my man period this week.”

Pau:” I’m not even on my period and I’m still pissed off.”


A highlight of the conversation I had with my brother while driving to Zephyr’s elementary school to pick him up. Today my dear friends, was the day I was planning on finally writing something sassy and wonderful that you would all enjoy after my long hiatus in the real world.

Instead, I have returned to the internet world to complain about my day because I was long overdue for a bad one and in relation to the Paula’s Bad day index, this one isn’t SO horrible.

So it started well enough; morning mocha, my room was mostly clean, and lingering dreams of being back in California. I drove Danny to work and Zephyr to school. It was the highlight of my day. Work was supposed to start an hour later because I had already finished more than half of my tasks the night before and so all things considered, it was set up to be a great day. 

While rummaging through my things looking for my latest loan statement, I found the sealed envelope with the letter I’ve had hiding in my room for a couple of weeks now. In that moment, I knew I couldn’t ignore it any longer. After two week’s worth of sermons on forgiveness, a talk with Anthony and some other in my face signs, I knew what I had to do. I sat down to my computer and started recording some video messages. It’s bad taste to share your personal life with the internet but I will say this, nothing sucks more than a friendship breakup. 

After an overly emotional morning, I drove to work and had a wonderful shift UNTIL

The evil woman at the hospital.

I packed her order myself and delivered it.

She sat me down in an isolated room and demanded that I go through every single item, all the while complaining about the last 3 time she’s ordered food from us. She ended our review with, “Where are my mashed potatoes?

"Mam, there are no mashed potatoes on the ticket. You DID order sweet potatoes which are right here."

"No, I ALSO ordered mashed potatoes…also, i’m not paying with cash."

My shift ended at 3:00. It was already 2:50 p.m. I drove back, talked to my boss (who is cool), got the mashed potatoes, and drove back to the hospital. I have decided that all in all, this was a learning opportunity in which I discovered just how easy it is to gain access to non-public access parts of a hospital. All you need is a delivery bag and a smile. 

By the time I left the restaurant, it was 4:00pm and the interview with the printmaking guild I had scheduled was well past it’s time. So I drove home instead wanting to cry but mostly just hungry. 

Papi had a whole sandwich waiting for me, and he was halfway through pouring me a glass of wine when Cuzco, our siamese cat with an overly large personality, slow marched across the kitchen floor, leaving a trail of blood and pus behind him. 

"Our neighbors told me there’s a raccoon in the area."

Papi never finished pouring the wine. Upon seeing the cat, we both jumped into action. We put on rubber gloves and I ran to the van parked outside for our first aid kit.

I wrapped Cuzco in a towel to keep him from scratching us both to death as my father attended kindly to his wounds. 

He cried outright as I washed him gently with the spray nozzle of warm water. 

A half hour later I was bleaching the floors and hurriedly changing pants before running off to pick up my brother and nephew.

When I finally arrived home, I had a large glass of wine, the contents of which, are discouraging me from writing further for fear of tipsy-induced embarrassment.

So I will end this post with love, and with the hopes that your day was a whole lot BETTER than mine.



21 Best GIFs of All Time of the Week
Hidden behind many of this week’s Best GIFs are more, even-bestier GIFs.

I cracked up watching these. 


21 Best GIFs of All Time of the Week

Hidden behind many of this week’s Best GIFs are more, even-bestier GIFs.

I cracked up watching these. 

Get ready for NM C. :)