My Life in Movie Clips

My life is far from being movie-perfect, but there actually are times where it resembles certain big-screen moments…

When I’m babysitting my brothers = Nani in Lilo & Stitch 2

 

When I’m tying to potty train my puppy = Eddie Murphy in Daddy Day Care

 

Because we’ve all been there = This scene from LOL

 

When I have a dentist appointment = Cameron in Ferris Beuller’s Day Off

 

How I watch TV = Patch from 101 Dalmations

 

When a teacher pushes off a quiz = Andy Samburg and the gang in Hot Rod

 

When I hear girls complimenting eachother = “Bullshit” from Top Gun

 

And obviously, when I’m sitting in class at 7pm on a Monday = Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz

 

9 Reasons I’m Not a “Real” Style Blogger

1. I haven’t quite mastered the perfect “sunset shot” yet.

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“Real” Blogger: Emily Schuman

 

2. I don’t understand the macaroon thing…

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“Real” Blogger: Aimee Song

 

3. I don’t have legs like this.

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“Real” Blogger: Caroline Roxy

 

4. I don’t have these Valentinos. (But apparently everybody else does…)

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“Real” Blogger: Patti Santamaria

 

5. I’m horrible at DIY projects. Like, Do It Yourself tea bags?? Really? There are so many ways I could screw that one up.

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“Real” Blogger: Emily Schuman

 

6. I don’t live near a random forest.

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“Real” Blogger: Jessica Harshman

 

7. I’d have to be at the gym for the rest of the day if my breakfast looked like this.

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“Real” Blogger: Julie Sarinana

 

8. My nail polish chips after two days. So nail art would be pointless.

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“Real” Blogger: Rina Selimi

 

9. And, lastly, I look far from glamorous when I try to wear fur. Honestly? It just makes me look like a hamster.

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“Real” Blogger: Negin Mirsalehi

Short Girl Problems

As some of you may already know, this blog is named after my height–I’m 20 years old, but I’m the height of your average 6th grader.

Being 4’11 doesn’t bother me much (although it does mean I’ll never be a Victoria’s Secret model…) But here are twelve things I do wish everyonwould understand about being a tiny girl in a big world:

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1. Just because I asked you to reach something for me off a high shelf, doesn’t mean you can ask me to pick something up off the floor for you, because I’m “closer”. It’s a double standard, I know. But still.

2. When we vote on things, please don’t tell me I only count as “half a vote“.

3. Being short means there are trends I don’t get to join in on. Ex: crop-tops: somehow every crop-top I bought fit me like a normal shirt.

4. Dear stores who merchandise from small to large, the short people can’t reach the top shelves! So stop putting the small and short sizes up there!

5. Do not put your arm on my head. I get that I’m the perfect height to be an armrest, but if you do that it will only remind me that I am also the perfect height to punch you in the balls. So don’t.

6. While we’re on the subject of you all touching me, please stop trying to pick me up.

7. To my lady friends,  I love you all dearly, but I’m not so into having my face pressed into your boobs when we hug. High Fives work better for me. Just saying.

8. No, I didn’t buy my shoes in Build-A-Bear. Hardy har har…

9. Please let me feel sexy. Just once. It seems like no matter how dressed up I get, or how much effort I put in, everyone still tells me I look “cute”. Even if I were to wear one of those halloween costumes that’s literally labeled as “SEXY nurse,” everyone’s reaction would still be: “Omg, you’re such a cute little nurse!”

10. To all those pre-pubescant boys out there who have asked for my number lately: I might be your height, but I’m not your age.

11. I might be short, but my proportions are normal. “Of course you can touch your toes, you’re legs are so much shorter than mine.”–Seriously? My legs might be shorter, but so are my arms.

12. And this last one is for all the cops cruising around Los Angeles: Yes, I’m old enough to drive. Please don’t pull me over because you think I’m 13. (True story)

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If you’re a fellow short girl, I hope this made you laugh. And if you’re tall, go join a basketball team somewhere so I can live vicariously through you…

Me vs. Campus Security

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When I first started college, I thought I was the coolest person ever. At orientation they gave us temporary, paper ID cards and said that our official school ID’s would be mailed to us. I remember when my official Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising (FIDM) ID finally arrived: I held it in my hands and thought, “This is for real–I’m officially living me dream.”

In that moment, my FIDM student ID card was probably the greatest thing I had ever had possession of…

Now I hate the damn thing.

See, here’s the problem: You need to have your ID card on you at all times. You need to scan it to open classroom doors, you need it to get your books, and you need it to get into the school elevators. Always. But let’s be realistic, I’m 19 years old and I would lose my head if it wasn’t attached to my body…I am constantly losing my stupid ID card. I leave it at home. I leave it in my car. I leave it in a different purse. It ends up in the laundry. I leave it in the restroom, classrooms, the cafeteria–you name it! If you don’t have your student ID on you, and security catches you, you have to go sign up for a temporary pass.

I’m famous with the campus security by now. And they hate me. (Though I’m convinced I’m secretly their favorite student…)

This morning, I was carrying a whole bunch of books and I was late to class. As I walked into the school lobby, I realized I had no clue where my ID was. I tried to just sneak by the security guard and slip into the elevator with a group of other students.

Obviously that didn’t work.

“Nikki, where’s your ID?”

“C’mon, you know me!” I looked down at my arms full of books, “You’re really gonna make me put my stuff down on the floor and dig through my bag for my ID?”

“Yes.”

So that’s what I did. Luckily, I did find my ID in my bag and, after I did a brief “happy dance”, the security guard let me into the elevator.

Then, our teacher gave us a 10 minute break during class, and I decided to leave campus and run down the street to Starbucks. I took my wallet and sunglasses and left my giant school bag in the classroom. I got out of the elevator on the ground floor and started walking out, then I saw the security guard and realized my ID was upstairs in my bag.

“Hey, I left my ID upstairs in the classroom, I’m just running to Starbucks. I’ll be right back.”

“Go get a temporary pass.”

“But I showed it to you this morning,” I reminded him, “Remember my ‘happy dance’?”

He didn’t care. So before leaving campus, I went and signed out a temporary pass. For the millionth time.

When I got back to campus (my break was long over, and I was going to be late to class again) the security guard asked to see my pass. And wouldn’t ya know, I couldn’t find it.

“I must have left it in Starbucks,” I said.

“Go back and get it, Nikki.” …He was serious.

Decidedly, I’m just going to take my student ID to a tattoo artist on Melrose Ave and get it tattooed onto my body somewhere. That way I’ll never be without it. But until then, it’s just Me vs. Campus Security.