Nina vs The World

Yoville. Farmville. Fishville. Restaurant City. Toilet Town. Idiot City. Population: YOU. They're facebook games, they're newsfeed spam, they're horror disguised in inoccent wrapping paper. They're goshdarn annoying!! Seriously. If you find it a pressing matter to tell your friends how many levels you've advanced in retrograding your IQ, something's wrong with you. No phrase can make such resonating universal sense than "Get a Life" , and one outside your cyber realm. Besides these games taking your privacy away, they get a double reward- your brain and dignity tag along, too. Why wasting precious time on crops you can't eat and animals you can't interact with be so appealing to millions baffles me. Whatever happened to real games? Games made from cardboard, stimulating puzzles, riddles, and the like? What happened to real conversation? Not just.. "Please accept my freshly picked carrots!" I mean Really. How accomplished can you re

Dear brainless droid behind the wheel, I'd like to give you a run down of several things you should take into consideration the next time you hit the road. I know you think Road Rules is just an old fascinating MTV show, but its more than just that. It's actually a code of funny little standards that save people lives and livers on the road. I understand you received your license from the last Lucky Charm cereal box. So I'm going to pay a deed to society and teach you the basics. Hey, I may also help you save 15% or more on your car insurance. Let's churn them out, shall we? BLINKERS- That miniature baseball bat looking thing under your nose serves a purpose. A quite dignified one, I'd like to think. They're called blinkers. And that little stick makes the prettiest red lights blink on your backlights- either left or right, depending which way you have to turn. That way, myself, and all the other 987696 cars on the road know why on God's green earth you&

Nothing creates more hysteria than black friday sales. Scores of stores are crammed to the roof with obsessed shoppers on a craze for things they don't need.. or for that matter, can fit into their trunk. I sat there in the parking lot of Wal Mart, early Friday morning, (no.. I wasn't shopping..) and I just had to laugh at the ridonkulous people to be seen. Huge LCD TVs and other odds and ends lumbered over their shopping carts, nearly toppling to the floor. After they arrive at their vehicle, they realize to their dismay, that their junk can't fit in their trunk. You'd think they'd have the parameters of their car down packed. You'd think they'd calculate the area of their new treasures would snugly fit in their hatchback car. But of course, they wait to the last minute and get all frustrated when they realize their coveted objects can't be jammed in their piggy bank. Fail! It's cute people actually think they're getting a good deal, when in

Since the era of everything digital, picture taking and sharing became a hobby, a passion, and now, every day life. It's no mystery who's at the top of the social network food chain, destroying lives and privacy and making others cyber famous. But when something becomes widely spread and accesible and fairly unlimited and unrestricted, you have to wonder what the cost will be- both short-term and long-term.  Well, there's the obvious issues-(i.e. hackers, identity theft, loss of privacy,) which have been covered thoroughly. But let's look at the here and now. Should you really be posting every picture you take? There are pieces of wisdom that are always good to remember: Nothing on the internet is ever truly deleted. That's right, that odd album you had with your crazy ex and his family is still swinging in cyberspace somewheres. Nothing is ever completely private (bugs and kinks in the system do happen). So one day, you may log in and very well see someone else

This chick did the right thing. Ice, rest, and gauze. DISCLAIMER: The views herein expressed are solely the opinion of Nina, and not any medical or proffessional directive or treatment to prevent or diagnose illness. You are at your own risk for applying the following tips. Friday the 22nd of October was quite possibly one of the most miserable days of my life. I would say maybe #3. During the procedure, I started to hyperventilate. I couldn't control my lungs or my breathing. I got about five novicane shots, laughing gas, and conscious sedation.  When I got out of the surgery, I almost toppled forward. I felt like I had two sucker punches straight to my jaw. And as soon as I got home, and most of the stuff wore off, it was hell on earth for the following six hours. No position I laid in I found comfortable. The worst part was the gauze.. it felt ooey and wet and just plain out gross inside my mouth.  So herefore I've gathered some do's and dont's for those of you

Well, less than 24 hours from now, I'm going to be in a world of excruciating pain.  No, it's not a Miley Cyrus concert. It's my wisdom teeth removal. All four. All impacted. (Where will all my classic wit go?) Thank heaven for painkillers and anesthesia.  Hopefully I'll be back to blogging on Monday as usual. And it will probably be a whole lotta complaining and griping about my soon-to-be-chipmunk face.  :)

I can see it now: a cheesy, low-budget sci fi movie, made for tv. Huge awkward styrofoam cellphone monsters decimate humanity with laser beams, while mammoth copy machines xerox our brains against the glass until we die.. It may sound ridiculous but technology is our demise. Now hear me out, I'm not taking for granted how they've simplified my life. I understand they've made wonderful advances for humanity, especially in the medical field. In fact, I don't know how more crazy I'd be without the ability to blog at my fingertips. They allow us to gain time, they keep us connected. (I.e. toothbrush, E-Z pass, toilet paper, cellphones)  But I believe technology has become more than a helpful tool, more than accesories to facilitate our life. They are also simplifying our brains. Think I'm exxagerating? How many phone numbers can you recite by memory? Less than 10? Less than 5? Do you have trouble remembering even yours? When was the last time you played a game

There's only so much you can rant about before you upset someone. And I think the time has come for me! I sit there pushing scan on my radio, listening to pieces of garbled horribly super synthesized "songs." They call it music. I call it verbal diarrhea. "Baby I like it The way you move on the floor Baby I like it Come on and give me some more" Really? How many times have we heard that in a pop song? My tolerance for Enrique Igaysias is slowly coming to an end. Back in the day, he actually had substanstial songs, about love and loss. Now he's down there sucking scum with Pitbull making the world's deepest music, howling and recording his screechy voice on every refried pop beat. "You know what it is girl, we back up in this thang Money stay in my pocket, girl, I'm like a walkin' bank Tell me whatcha drank, tell me whatcha thank If I go get these bottles, we go alcohol insane" Wow. Edgar Allan Poe doesn't have jack on

We all have them on our friend list on Facebook. We have all seen them on other friend's lists. We've seen, admired, clicked, and gasped. Yikes. Definitely looked better in a thumbnail. That's right. This blog is dedicated to the Hi-Resolution Challenged, the Pixelated Pretty, and the altogether Thumbnail Fabulous. Here's a rant, just for them. Dear Visually Awkward Person, Life hasn't been easy for you, but now, you have a lot of appreciating to do. When at one point people would stare and laugh in your face, now they just have to click and giggle. And you won't hear a thing. I see you carefully positioned yourself in clever lighting, caked yourself with pounds of makeup and held the camera at an odd to decipher angle while you took and erased 342 pictures. But let's face it. Number 343 isn't any better. And while thumbnails make you look semi decent, once we click your name, it's all over. Right smack before our eyes lies the naked truth, in

Okay, so we all know celebrities are not amongst society's fanciest and respectable group of people. But when it comes to broadcasting your humiliation nationwide, the Spanish version of "Dancing with the stars" known as "Mira Quien Baila! (Look who's dancing)" takes the cake.  Overrated news anchors, B-list soap opera daytime Emmy winners, and long non-heard of fading singers are all cast on a dance floor in front of a camera and told to get jiggy with it. But oh, the drama! Front and center are the accidents. Last night, Jon Secada flopped on his knee, during his visually painful performance, after failing to catch his partner, and immediately formed a riot as he bawled and winced on all fours like an abandoned puppy. And instead of calling it a day, he was ushered out AGAIN to do some awkward robot-duck-bread-making routine to David Bisbal's Buleria.  Niurka Marcos, however, didn't even show up after last week's knee injury to add to the caked

When you think of being branded, what comes to mind? Uncle Ben's cows maybe, with that odd number on their behind. Or maybe the prisoners of the Nazi era, with an ID number stamped on their arm. They were not human, not personal individuals, they were "numbers".  Well folks, its happening all over again in the US. These days, you aren't anyone without your SS#. Its your form of identification, even for things that are more social than they are secure. Why is it that everyone, from your landlord to your dentist, wants to know every detail of your life? Why is it that its so easy for someone to steal your identity, and then so hard to correct it?  Everytime we open a bank account, we file taxes, we go to a doctor's appointment, we fill out a job application, we sign a contract.. there are those very nine digits on paper for the world to see. After you fill out 3490 pages of medical history and your whole life story, some careless receptionist stacks it on a pile whe

Imagine feeling locked in the deep darkness of the earth. Little light, scarce food, and no way of telling the world outside that you're alive, and need to be rescued. Imagine how disheartening it can be, slowly rotting inside a rocky deathbed. On August 5th, 2010, the world seemed to stop for 33 men. After a freak explosion, a group of miners were trapped in the dark abyss of a cave, 2200 feet below the surface. Would they ever see their families again? Would they ever feel the sun upon their skin? The loved ones- losing hope , and fearing the worst, thought it was the end. Yet, 69 days later.. the dream came true. Through an ingenious contrivance, a life-size cage named "The Phoenix" was lowered down to their cold dark prison. Today, the 13th of October, Victor Segovia, miner number 15, is getting his hospital revision. The world watches on, enthralled and captivated as one by one, these men arise from the heart of the earth- and are reunited emotionally with their love

Oh, the intricacies of men and women fraternizing! So you ran into Mikey after leaving the post office, you know, Mikey from High School? The kid that repeatedly tried to ask you on a date leaving notes in your locker, your car, your front door, your bedroom window.. We deal with it all the time. Its one of the common issues of modern society. After a mediocre conversation, a happenstance meeting, or even reconnecting with an old friend through facebook. Its only a matter of chats before the dreaded question  arises:  "Can I have your number?" So there you are, staring at the kid, now man, you really didn't care about meeting again. His teeth look like they scared away the bravest toothbrush, and his hair still the disheveled bum look. In a nutshell, your answer is "There's not enough beer in the world, buddy.." But if you're like me, and millions of other women too nice to shut you down cold, you're stuck in Awkwardville America, tugging at your

I used to be able to type messages rather fluently. In fact, once upon an aeon, my friends used to call me Grammar Police. So why is it that now I can't resist abbreviating and re-abbreviating my text messages? Text message language is just another world on its own. B3fo43 !+ \/\/@$ +@|_|< !|\|5 like this. Now its even more annoying and less legible. "Hey! Hru, btw, lmk f u wanna hang 2nite.. Idk f Jen wil go, changbtm (call her and get back to me). tkcr c U sn" The purpose of messages is to shorten the amount of time used to communicate. And instead, it has shortened communication and multiplied the amount of time it takes to comprehend the dialect. And when did bestie become a term? I'm not even drinking age and I don't remember when it became hip to use bestie. Then again, to use hip hasn't been hip since hip became the body part. :/ How many other terms and abbreviations can you guys think of? I'm thinking of creating a Texting Terminology Glossary