Thursday, August 19, 2010

Old, New, Borrowed, and Jew

Have you ever had the pleasure of planning a wedding? How about being in one? Was there an open bar? Approximately how many times did you roll your eyes throughout the ceremony?

Our society has made weddings the equivalent of a very expensive circus. Flowers, dresses, food, cake, midgets. Do we really need all this crap to express our love and devotion in front of our friends, family, and legal system? Maybe Vegas has it right - wham, bam, you're married ma'am... oh, and you also have the clap.

My poor sister is getting married in less than a month. She's still trying to nail down the cake while I've been on a two week internet hunt for the perfect bling-y decorations for her peacock themed extravaganza. I think my mom is in a self induced coma over sticker shock and I've been invited to three bridal showers and a whole weekend of bachelorette festivities. Don't get me wrong, I know my sister is loving the attention and gifts, and none of this she planned, but why do we go to such lengths over one day?

What it comes down to is ME. And you. We go all out for other people's crap in the hopes that when our time comes, we'll get an entire year of ooh's,  aah's, parties, and bridezilla bitchiness.

So I'm taking a stand and giving my sister a gift that costs nothing but means a lot:

Something old - My constant sarcasm and mockery throughout this whole ordeal, including the wedding day.
Something new - A bump it. (Someone gave it to me but it won't work in my hair.)
Something borrowed - Remember that cute shirt I stole from you a few years ago? I'm giving it back.
Something Jew - My best friends, Nina and Kat (two of my all time favorite Jews - Sorry Barbara S!), are gonna be your little helper bitches at the wedding. Even though some of them are still bitter about not being bridesmaids...

CONGRATS Chris and Sarah!!! Can't wait for the big day! <3 <3 <3

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Awesomely Gay Songs I Listen to at the Gym

Everyone has a playlist or a set of songs they listen to while working out and hidden within these lists are some pretty embarrassing choices. Below are some of the awesomely gayest songs that I LOVE to jam out to while I'm at the gym. Honestly.

Oh Sheila by Ready For The World
Qualifying awesome lyric: " I love you baby honestly/ Deedle, deedle, deedleee/ Deedle, deedle, do!"

Shake Ya Tail Feather by Nelly ft. P.Diddy
Qualifying awesome lyric: "Is that ya ass or is ya mama half reindeer?"/ They be like he the man when I'm really a Thundercat."

Summertime by The New Kids On The Block
Qualifying gay lyric: There really isn't one. It's just gay that I'm not even listening to their 80s/90s hits. I'm listening to the single they just released.

True To Your Heart by 98 Degrees ft. Stevie Wonder
Qualifying gay lyric: Again, there actually isn't one. This is super gay because not only is it the least successful boy band of the late 90s, but also the theme song of a Disney movie. Combined, the gay factor shoots off the charts.

I Love New York by Madonna
Qualifying awesome lyric: "If you don't like my attitude, then you can 'F' off/ Just go to Texas, isn't that where they golf?/ New York is not for little pussies who scream/ If you can't stand the heat, then get off my street." And of course it's gay, it's Madonna.

Control Myself by LL Cool J ft. Jennifer Lopez
Qualifying awesome lyric: "You know I know you like it/ Let me hit you on your sidekick/ Because the after party is at my body/ Meet me your invited....
Her top was short and purple/ Belly dancing in a circle/ When I feel like this I can't resist/ Stop it don't make me hurt you! (make me hurt you)...
Zezezezeze zezeze zezezezezezeze ze zez zezez ezezeze zezezez ze!"

What awesomely gay songs are on your iPod?

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

It's Called Magic, Bitch. Tricks Are For Whores.

It was a trifecta of friends' birthdays this week and the result was a fabulous trip to the Magic Castle in Hollywood. For all of you who have never been, it's invite only to a 100 year old, multi-level mansion where you pay out the ass to be shown magic. The dress code is strict, the parking is valet, and the magicians are not fucking around.

Before the evening begins, our Jersey homeboy, Gasper, strolls up to us (and a crowd of old people) and loudly announces how "Some fuckin' guy just yelled at me 'Shorten your tie, douchebag!' and then I grabbed my balls at him!" Douche bags and balls are always needed to begin a night of class.

We get herded into a lobby and pay two stuffy bitches to scream at us that we're not good or rich enough to be at a place of this caliber. Someone screeches into a bookcase "Open Sesame!" and we enter a world of creepy portraits, rickety staircases, and fully stocked bars (yes!) where we immediately order drinks.

There are small 10 minute magic shows in every nook and cranny of every eccentric room. We catch one of an older Australian gentleman who refuses to perform any trick without involving a kangaroo, but his accent is so entertaining that we stay anyway. Quickly after, we hurry upstairs where our dinner reservations await... and more drinks.

Next up, the main attraction. Justin Credible, host of Cupcake Wars, puts on a delightful show including a ring popping up in a lady's cleavage, a floating table, and a box that I suspect a fully literate midget may live inside. Then, he calls on Gasper. Justin proceeds to call him Casper, Jasper, Gasper, and then Jasper again for the next four minutes. I'm pretty sure those two hooked up after the show because they had quite a flirtation going on and Justin swore this mishap would be his FB status update. Oh, and I totally saw them making out later.

What next? More drinks! And more nook and cranny shows. We stumble upon an old school magician who's throwing back Jack and Cokes like it's Kwanzaa and telling jokes that intermix racial slurs with anecdotes about Frank Sinatra. Never have I heard such a creative use of the word "wetback." Classic.

I'm on my 100th glass of syrah when I'm yanked down into a possible sex dungeon where two ametuer magicians are doing quick sets. I try to hook up Devon with the first guy, but he leaves the room annoyed. (I thought I was being subtle.)  The second magician notices my horrifically purple mouth and thinks it's a good idea to have me help with his set. After a few slurred suggestions at what card he should pull, I decide the eight of spades would be great. He pulls the eight of hearts. Unfortunately for him, the best magic trick in that room was me making yet another glass of wine disappear.

The night ends with everyone sitting in the basement, listening to another magician talk about doing cocaine in his hay day at Studio 54. I sway to the melodic tunes from a Tina Turner look-alike on the piano and realize that my body is ready for Jack in the Box. Before parting ways, we reminisce over all the times we screamed things like "What?! That's impossible!" and "Where did his pants go?" A lovely evening indeed.

We couldn't truly end the night without a quick encounter with a wizard dog and a run in with some rent-a-cops on the 405, but everyone made it home safe, sound and full of magic (alcohol). Happy birthday to my beloved Freaky, the gorgeous Lori, and my BFF/Boyfriend Jeff!

Saturday, June 26, 2010

You Know What I Hate? Part Three

These are even more things that I hate:

5. People who take sports games WAY too seriously. Crying over your team missing a goal or a touchdown is completely unnecessary. Are they saving someone's lives on the field? Did Beckam just rip his shirt off? No. You're just wasted and have been surviving off nothing but hot wings and cocaine all day and you're being a little overemotional, you man baby. Get off my street.

4. Guy that trained his dog to ride a skateboard and almost hit me with it. Okay, so it's pretty cool that your dog can ride a skateboard, but when you get drunk and decide to not look at where you're whipping your skateboard, that's when I start hating. Because as soon as I leave my apartment, if I have to dodge a 100 pound bull dog flying at me on a skateboard aiming at my right shin, it is likely to scare the shit outta me, not make me clap in appreciation. That could've ended badly for all parties if I had not been such a graceful athlete with a healthy fear of dogs. Brenna - 1, Skateboarding Dog - 0.

3. People who poop on my couch. (*See Fuck Yo Couch, Birfday Girl below.) Yep, still bitter.

2. I hate being on a diet and eating healthy. It's no fun. I want to be on a show like Man vs. Food where he gets paid to eat 6 pound burritos and multi level ice cream sundaes. On top of that, people are cheering on his fatness and impending diabetes! God, what I wouldn't give for his luxurious lifestyle. And a steak/french fry/egg/cole slaw/hot dog/fried jalapeno/onion ring/caviar sandwich without a side of guilt.

1. Hairy man backs. You know when you're a hairy man beast and it is a living breathing choice to expose your funky to the world. I don't want you guys getting any crazy ideas like "This is the way I was born and I shouldn't have to change according to society's standards" or "Who cares?" because I'll tell you who cares - EVERYONE ELSE. You look like you got cold one day, covered yourself with a fur blanket and kept it on so long it sunk into your skin. When you could be cast in Teen Wolf: Spring Break!, it's time to seriously consider your options... like waxing or just killing yourself.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Fuck yo couch, birfday gurl.

Birthdays. A day where each and every person can feel special, have friends and family celebrate their birth, and, most importantly, you get a free pass at Disney (The rides suck but there's a little thing called "drinkin' 'round the world" at Epcot that is pure de-light.). As a world renowned narcissist, I consider my birthday a thing of magic and wonder and free stuff. So when my special happy day goes wrong, people are going to hear about it.

I won't bore you with the details of a severe sunburn, horrible weather, an earthquake, and a general lack of communication from a lot of important people, but I will fill you in on a much more interesting and disgusting reason why my 25th sucked balls.

I didn't plan on doing anything for my birthday but last minute I ended up going downstairs to a bar for a few drinks with the Nasty's and the Freaky's (a weekend routine). An outside friend was brought in - we'll call him Jerry - who no one knew but was welcomed all the same. As we hung out at the bar, everyone had some drinks and were feeling pretty good, but Jerry was was feeling GREAT. He danced and sang and downed drink after drink.

I was getting hungry (big shock) and wanted to pay a little visit to my not so secret lover, the quesadilla from Los Muchachos, so we headed back to my apartment - my brand new apt with brand new carpet and brand new furniture. Before I was done with my cheesy meal, Jerry was getting destructive and then started not to feel so well. 

Do we see where this story is headed?

If you guessed that he would start barfing next, you'd be right. If you guessed he would take out my new, never been used pot to throw up into, you'd also be right. And if you guessed that he would use my beach towels instead of the roll of paper towels next to him to clean up, you would basically be psychic! So congrats on that. But like I said earlier,  still, no one knew what was coming...

I woke up the next morning to discover three things: 1) Jerry was gone, 2) Jerry shit his pants while sleeping on my couch, 3)  Jerry had left the vomit/poop mess for everyone else to clean. HE POOPED ON MY COUCH AND ON MY FLOOR AND ON MY TOWELS and then had the nerve to leave it for everyone else to clean. He left poopy underwear in my trash can. He left vomit in my pot in my sink. He left a smell that still haunts me to this day.

A lot of the mess had been cleaned before I had to deal with it, but after an ottoman was moved, a new stain was discovered - A POOP STAIN THAT LOOKED LIKE SOMEONE DRAGGED THEIR FINGERS THROUGH IT. (Did he scoop his poop and then wipe it on the floor?  And then after that put my ottoman over it to hide the stain? And did I mention that this is the first time any of us had ever met him?)

So there I was, on my fucking birthday, scrubbing someone else's shit off my carpet. So Jerry, if you're reading this, I know I am super hilarious but you shouldn't find this funny in the slightest. And if you do think this is funny, I don't even need to insult you, you shit yourself.

This may be a vengeance blog (the best kind of blog, in my opinion), but also an educational one. We all learned a lesson here - don't poop and run, it's rude. And if you do, at least offer to pay for steam cleaning.

***** ALSO: Actual birthday "card"  I got from a family member suggesting I donate $10 to the Catholic Church for my birthday...

Friday, April 30, 2010

Get Out My Face Space!

"Facebook is like a hot tub time machine; it's an amazing invention that can bring joy to millions, but if abused, could tear down civilization as we know it." - Brenna E. Kelly

Most people use Facebook to share pictures with loved ones or to catch up with friends from the past. (I use the site to promote my many bidnesses such as comedy writings and an ever popular sticker club.) This site was given to us so that we may tell all of our friends what we're doing at any given moment of the day. So when the holy grail of internet stalking is being threatened, when is the time to take a stand for what's right?

It has become acceptable for small children, old people and even cats to have their own pages. This cannot be tolerated. The children bring in fan pages for "Sunshine" and "Flip Flops". (You want me to believe that a pair or flip flops as an entirety got together and decided to make a page on FB because they felt left out? Impossible - flip flops don't have opposable thumbs and thus cannot type.) The old people make fan pages about "God" and "Missing the days when I could see my feet". (No one cares. Die already and free up the space so I can make a fan page for my cat.)

These outcasts bring not only those inane fan pages but also appalling games like Mafia Wars. Then, when you don't join their dumb ass game, they repeatedly resend you the invitation over and over until you have to have an incredibly uncomfortable intervention via your blog page. (You know who you are, KRISTINA LAUREN PAULOS.) Seriously, stop sending that shit out, everyone is talking about you behind your back on FB chat and calling you all those names you suspect.

The worst, by far, are the people airing dirty laundry on their status updates. I suggest not telling the world about your cheating husband and raging bout of hemorrhoids for fear of coming off as less than classy. When you write an entire paragraph detailing the minutia of your daily chores, everyone thinks you're a loser and your mother doesn't love you. Why? Because if you had people in your life, you would talk to them about your "way too hot cup of coffee" and not a computer screen. Song lyrics referencing a hostile situation you're in isn't any better, it just makes you a passive aggressive idiot. Taylor Swift doesn't want you using her words to tell your ex what's up in a public forum. In fact, she hates you.

With great power comes great responsibility. It is in our hands to keep prestigious networking sites such as Facebook a safe place to connect in the cyber world. After all, if we don't protect the integrity of this holy site, we'll be left with nothing but another Myspace. No one wants that. Not even Tom.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

You Know What They Say...

Have you ever wondered to yourself, who the fuck are "they"? And where do "they" find the time to say all these things? I wouldn't mind getting hired as one of "them" and just start making shit up.

It's always the most bizarre sayings that get thrown at you in an attempt to make you feel better. "Be careful what you wish for, you may just get it". Ummm... I know. That's why I'm wishing for it. Otherwise, I would have revamped my wish to specify that I not receive it. "Have confidence in yourself and you can lick anything". That's just bad advice, destined to end in a porn career or a quick bout of H1N1. "What is meant to be will be". This may be true, however, you may be destined to be punched in the mouth by my fist-o-fury. Does that saying make you feel any better about it?

Then there are the obvious ones like "You can't buy love". It's like they've never heard of Russian mail order brides; it's a business where everyone wins. "You can't have your cake and it, too". I'm not sure what this crackhead does with their cake, but one thing is fo sho - if you put any kind of sugary goodness in front of my fat ass, whether it's yours, mine or unknown, I will eat it. "No news is good news". Erroneous. This person has apparently never called a guy expecting a second date and received nada in return. They also haven't had the joy of going to an acting audition. "Your time is the greatest gift you can give someone". Nope. Two words - free pizza.

Of course we can't ignore the sayings that don't make any goddamn sense. For example, "You are what you eat". The only way that this could be true would be to eat another person, but cannibalism is illegal. Tempting, but illegal. "Can't get blood from a stone". Who is under the impression that you could? While we're on the topic, if you could get something, anything, out of a stone, why would you choose blood? You don't know if that blood has AIDS and once you get the blood, what were your plans for it? Try to get money out of a stone, it's more productive.

"Never look a gift horse in the mouth" is by far the most bewildering of all sayings to me. Firstly, I have always had a healthy fear of horses so I was completely unaware that some of them gave out gifts. Or is that just slang for reindeer? Also, why can't you look it in the mouth? I would assume that that is where the gifts come out and would refuse to take a "gift" from  the other end.

A "Word to the wise" maybe be"Just because everyone's doing something doesn't mean it's right" but "A little bird told me" that that's only true about everything but Glee.

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Ugly Picture Challenge! UPDATE!

And the winner is... ME!!!

You didn't think that any of you are weird looking enough to beat me at my own disturbing game... did you? HAHA!

This is my Florida driver's license. I look like Andy Richter and Lindsay Lohan's love child. 

 +  = ME

Or that I ate this person...

What can I say? She looked weak and confused.

Pedro C.'s comment was my fave: "Where is my umbrella ya'll? I gotta beat up some paparazzi!"
Perhaps because it was the funniest or perhaps my quest to become like Britney has come full circle and my fans appreciate it.

Don't pout that you didn't win people. In a contest like this, everyone is a winner.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Ugly Picture Challenge!

I am one of the most unphotogenic human beings the world has ever known. I can't even count the number of times I have taken a bad picture or how often my friends start "finding the most hideous picture of Brenna and post it all over the internet" contests. In light of that fact, and the fact that I am shameless when it comes to attention and funny things, I am going to show you my passport picture:

You're welcome.

I challenge any brave soul to try and one up this HIDEOUS picture. Your picture needs to be some kind of official ID, school ID, driver's license or passport. Not just some drunk picture your asshole buddies took of you. 
Email me at or send it to me via Facebook. I will update this blog and announce a winner.

Another challenge is who can write the funniest caption to this photo in the below comment section.

The prize, you ask? GLORY.

Friday, February 12, 2010

Be Funny or Die. Seriously.

Recently, I shot a bunch of skits/sketches/little videos to post on Funny or Die (and You Tube, etc.). It was so much fun and the only drawback is that I am not able to shoot more often because of schedules and work and bar hopping. When I was in college, I was able to create and execute lots of videos, movies and musical hoopla's and that was such a wonderful time because it was a way of living out my dream on a smaller scale.

Another perk to doing things like this is that in a strange way, I am able to exist in the same world as Will Ferrell. That is, without cold calling everyone in the greater Los Angeles area, becoming a pizza delivery chick near his neighborhood, and generally not breaking a bunch of laws by stalking him. I have idolized that man since such a young age and seeing him on SNL in the late 90s is what inspired me to become a comedian. Someone like him, so dedicated to the art form called comedy, inspires me every day to fight for what I believe in and he provides fighters such as myself a forum to do so.

I know a lot of people that work jobs just to pay the bills while waiting for their big break. Half of my LA friends are the very fashionable "starving artists" and the other half spend their daily daydreams on a life less traveled. Being that R&B music producer, becoming the hot shot lawyer that takes the courtroom by storm, or evolving into the pulitzer prize winning author of a harrowing autobiography.

To take away our creative outlets, whether it be our career of choice or our weekly pottery class, would be to take a large piece of our humanity away. We are creative creatures and we need to have that release. I realize that I fall toward the more severe end of the creative spectrum and the loss of my creativity would equal the loss of not only my mental well being but also my heart. I strive every day to achieve my passion and life's purpose and I encourage everyone to do so as well. While mine may be to make you laugh, yours might be your children or your community sports programs. Whose to say which one is more important or more relevant when a part of yourself is at stake?

Do not disregard your (day) dreams and remember that life is not meant to just be survived. And of course, keep your sense of humor. Life without laughter is no life at all. Seriously.

Thursday, January 21, 2010

You Know What I Hate? Part Two

These are some more things that I hate:

1. I hate watching the local Los Angeles news because the reporters all look so bizarre. I can't even concentrate on what they are saying because I'm trying to figure out why their eyebrows are trying to escape from their faces. They've had so much plastic surgery that the only way I know they're trying to show any emotion is by the flaring of a nostril. The left one usually indicates sympathy.

2. I hate when you ask for whipped cream and you get Cool Whip. Cool Whip is a nasty impostor and it tastes like plastic. Whipped cream is yummier and creamier and packed with way more sugar. It's like asking for a Swiss Roll and getting a Ho-Ho. Swiss Rolls are so much more moist and chocolatey. Ho-Ho's are dry and taste like plastic. Anyone who says differently is obviously a communist. Obviously.

3. I hate when you're on vacation and the only hot tub at the hotel is out of order because someone pooped in it. I mean, really? You couldn't just get out and poop in the pool? That would get fixed real quick because everyone lays around it and no one wants to stare at poo but the hot tub is always ignored because it's smaller, away from everything and only sexy people use it (Hey, everyone poops. Even sexy people.). So the next time you feel the hershey squirts coming on and can't sprint to the john in time, be polite, go in the pool. Preferably near a child.

4. I hate the "random" bag check they have before you board the plane after you've gone through security. Um, did we not just take off our shoes, jackets, and accessories, run through a metal detector, get felt up by Suge Knight, and x-rayed by the most invasive machine known to man to see if we had any weapons on us? I had to reveal that I was wearing socks with cats on them, was that in vain sirs? Now you want to check again. Well, I say nay. There's no way in hell a bomb got through that so if someone got any drugs through, I say let them have it, they earned it.

5. I hate when people have disturbingly long nose hair. It's like they don't have mirrors or anyone in their lives that care about them. No stranger wants you coming up to them, asking for directions, all the while your nose hairs are sticking out waving hello. That's victimizing another human being. Did they ask to be winked at by a rogue nostril strand? Hell no. So stop being so selfish and take a pair of GD scissors to it before it can hurt anyone else.

Friday, January 8, 2010

Werewolves Vs. Vampires

There is a very intelligent debate currently sweeping our nation and as an expert on teenage lust and irrationality, I thought I would weigh in. The debate I am referring to would be of the werewolves vs. vampires kind. No matter which creature you prefer, there are pros and cons to both.

As a nation, we are quite seduced with the idea of a real vampire. No matter what vampire rules you play by, chances are, that vamp is a hot piece of ass. Being pro-vampire makes sense because they're crazy strong, flawlessly pale, excellent dancers, in some instances they sparkle, and if you are embarrassed to be seen with them, good news - they can't come out during the day (Talk about the perfect booty call!). However, there is a dark side to these folks as well. They have no souls, they're cannibals (drinking blood is fucking eating people, ok?), they're creepy old, and a lot of times they're British. Oh yeah, and technically, they're dead. There's nothing sexy about necrophilia, twi-hards.

Although werewolves aren't usually as titillating as vampires, our culture has been enraptured by this species as long as the other (I don't know that that is factually correct. But I said it so let's assume it's true.). I get the hype, werewolves are men that turn into wolf things at night or on a full moon. Too many rules to address here as well. But the basics are about the same - man beasts with a lust for adventure, giant claw paws, and that needy "I'm so misunderstood" vibe going for them. Again though, there is a con side to this eccentric lifestyle. They are mutants, they eat people (the lines blur with cannibalism), the howling is so annoying, they have dog breath, and usually they end up naked in a field after returning to human form which can present some pretty awkward situations for everyone involved. Oh yeah, and all you planning on sexing one up, look up the laws on bestiality.

My final ruling is that both werewolves and vampires can be pretty badass. Their drawbacks are only drawbacks by human standards. Which would I rather bang? Vampires, hands down. I'm really not an animal person and I would rather hook up with something that at least resembles a man, not a manimal. Which one would I rather go out with to a bar? Werewolves, most def. They're known for downing copious amounts of jello shooters, which always leads to hysterical stories the next day, and if you got into a bar fight, it's a no brainer who would come out victorious (and full).

The verdict is in: werewolves and vampires are cool, the losers (like me) who debate over them, are not!

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

2010: The Year of the Breakthrough

2009 was a year of great improvements in my life. For one, I was proven right that Britney would indeed have her comeback. More importantly, I fell in love with a beach town where I now live and wrote a bunch of stuff I'm very proud of. 2010 needs to be a year for me and for you where we buckle down and see the fruition of all our hard work.

If you're like me, you spent NYE reflecting on the past year and wondering what the hell happened to all the money you made. A lot of you will probably say student loans or new cars, but mine is mostly just going out to bars and paying secret mistresses to shut their whorish mouths. This year I will be 25 years old and I really don't have much to show for it besides 25 years worth of tattoos, drunken stories and terrible hair dying experiences.

When I traveled downtown for the NYE party that DNasty and I were to attend, I felt sorry for myself. I'm not where I would like to be in my career, I'm eternally single, and I'm still trying to suck in the chunk that I swore I would lose last year. I stared up at the full, blue moon and sang along to Lady Gaga hoping it would lift my spirits.

The feeling deepened when we entered the soundstage/club and realized that all the VERY expensive VIP areas were crowded with 18 year olds. It's not awesome to realize you are on the wrong side of 20 in Hollywood and seeing the black guy from Reno 911 was cool, but didn't pull me out of it.

Before midnight I took out my phone and realized I had a ton of texts and phone calls. So many people wishing the best, missing me, and telling me that they love me. I shut my phone and had an epiphany - I am one of the luckiest people in the world.

It doesn't matter that I'm not famous yet or that Ryan Reynolds hasn't realized his true feelings for me. I have a family and so many friends who love me unconditionally and have unwavering support for me, even when I'm in doubt of myself. I've made so many mistakes and fashion faux pas and yet I'm still here, aspiring and inspiring. I mean, WWBD? (What Would Britney Do?) She had so much more to battle and claw through to get her life back. Just when she was bald, crazy, a little fat and we were all losing hope, she turned it around and is kicking ass again (whether people like it or not). Are we so different? Well, yes, but you can see where I'm going.

Midnight struck and a cloud of sparkly confetti swirled around me. The year changed and so did I, because it was time. I need to focus more, be more disciplined, party a little less. This is to be the year I breakthrough and I would push others to do it with me. Whatever they've been striving for, I would help. Even if it's just with my words.

And so I urge you all to do what you love and pursue passion of any kind. By the time another strange, full, blue moon comes around, I hope we can all look back and see years of love, happiness, and fun. What will you do this year?