Moby-Dick Jokes

If a guy came on to me using a nerdy pick up line, I would be positively responsive. With the right personality, even a terrible pick up line isn't an immediate turn off. However, if I'm not immediately aware it's a pick up line, then I'm taken a little off guard. "Have you ever had a kid?" What? No, I'd like to keep my vagina intact for a couple more years. "Well I'd love to spend 9 months inside you." While slightly off putting, I missed him

In English class, we took the best Moby-Dick test ever. It had nothing to do with plot, themes, or major motifs, but boy, what a unifying force. The whole thing was short answer, no essays. Glancing over the first sheet, I turned to Kira with an "Oooooh, shit!" face. Dropped jaw, bug eyes, the works. Thankfully, she returned a similar look of stupefication, so I was not alone in having no clue. Immediately, I skipped to the second page and fell into a deeper spiral of "WTF." It was the kind of test, where it was possible Mrs. A had made up a question that had nothing to do with the book, waiting for someone to call bullshit. However, none of us read the book. Even if most of the other girls had, I'm fairly certain they don't have the balls to call her out on it. Reaching the end, I calmed down, took a breath. Surveying my entire, encompassing knowledge of Moby-Dick, I could legitmately answer maybe five questions. Luckily, the only thing that keeps me in AP classes is my ability to bullshit. My religious upbringing makes it possible to relate every single question on symbolism to Biblical themes. Hallelujah Almighty. I answered all but two questions. Afterwards, we were a collective of wild gestures attempting to relate our absurd and profound expressions of ignorance and disbelief. I'm fairly positive by the time fourth period rolled around, her other AP class was very, very aware of the titainous and awesome mystery they were about to face.

"Thar she blows!"
"Whale ho!"
"This whale doesn't bite, she swallows."
"He was my passionate bed fellow."

One of the Discussion Questions for Moby-Dick was, "Throughout the novel, it is as though Ahab is trying to conquer something besdies the white whale. If you agree, why or why not, and what is he trying to overcome?"

"It is generally regarded as the bigger the truck, the smaller the penis, I guess the same thing could apply to whales. Of course, I made plenty of dick jokes about this book, so that is probably why that jumped to my head. However, extrapolating on that... whales are really big and phallus shaped. They also have the world’s biggest penis and Melville seems to really, really like talking about them. Humans are imperfect and impure, Ahab was pretty darn close to perfection in his obsession, except he could never be a whole human being and the whale would always prevent him from being pure. He was trying to conquer his own insecurity (and small penis).

My Head Is So Busy and It's Not Even Sunday

[The dawn is breaking]

The first time I encountered "college ruled" paper:
"I'm not smart enough to be in college! I'm not ready for this!"
Now, I don't know what "regular ruled" loose leaf is known as.
I dislike it.
I'm ready now.

{ but then I think...

"no I'm not}

Stab is not a word that sounds like its meaning.
It ends in a very soft B sound with your lips together.
Cut is much harder.

Split ends. If it wasn't for hair and fiber optics, I could think it's a good thing, a branching off, a new division, a separation of fates.

I wish I'd never sent that letter, but what a waste of a blue M&M.

I save PostSecrets. Only the meaningful ones. The ones that make me cry, or the ones I could've written. One, that I saved from this week, I misread. It was only one letter substitution, and I thought I'd found a fellow soul. Now, I think it's cliche.

I'm consciously aware of my over-usage of the word "just."
It's very limiting. It denies all connotations and accessory motives.

Kisses lost their meaning, right?
That feel of breaking morning light?

[Now you've gone and broke it forever]

Philophobia

"...But it’s hard to stay mad, when there’s so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I’m seeing it all at once, and it’s too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that’s about to burst… And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can’t feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life."

It's astounding
how far one can fall

Tonight,
I realized I don't know what it means
"to be over someone"
I've moved on (I guess)
(Why all these prepositions)(about him?)
(over him)
(with him)
(on him)
(inside me)
(before him)
I don't think about "him"
I can't think when I see "him"
However
It's the same for every boy I've loved
(I suppose)
How ever can this be



[ o||%|> ]

(canned bee)
(cannitbee)
(canitbe?)
(really?)
(E)

Words for Men and Boys

I don't know who you are. I miss the boy who loved me. I can't remember what color your eyes are.

Sorry, I've always tagged along and you hurt me, so farewell.

I am mixed up in our regards. I don't know what anything means or if it has a meaning at all. I'll just wait, even if I'm terrible at it.

I don't like your stories, but Stasi speaks well of you.

Treat her well. She deserves it.

Thank you for supporting her, even if I don't like your petty alliances.

You are a better addition to a party, but not by much.

I'm sorry I can't harass you anymore. I'm not going to be in drumline.

This Romanticized idealism has to stop, even if I can't keep parallel with Kira.

I'm disinterested, but available.

You're interesting, but boring in text.

I'm glad you write.

Stay safe. Please.

You have stars on your ceiling. I miss when I idolized the boy who loved flowing water and flying things.

You're hot and philosophically awing, but I have my loyalties, oddly enough.

I wish we'd been better friends before and can be in the future. Being with you is pleasant, and I get to admire your idealized lifestyle.

Good luck next year. I am going to miss you oodles.

Good luck next year and the year after. You're a good kid and will be a better man.

I say things for you. Out loud, so that you can wonder about me. Comic books and LotR? Who is this girl?

I am perplexed by the why of this relationship, but that's not what it's about. Don't hurt her.

Uh... she's totally not what you described...

Man, you're my favorite (*wink* at Rose)

You're so alive. Please don't destroy it with heartbreak and recklessness.

Maybe you're a lil' creepin', but I still like who you are and will be proud of your grown up self.

I love you.

I Wondered What It Would Be Like to Bomb Your Houses

And for all your fiery brilliance, you cannot see your warmth and passion being conducted away into the uncaring and empty void that encloses your figure.

Today, I wrote a volunteered letter to the girl I have obligated myself to serenade. I will be singing "Whatever You Like." I don't know all the words, but I do have a boom-box.

Girls are notorious, for leaving secret messages in song lyrics, whether as status updates or music selection, and I still don't think it's common knowledge. They always want you to read deeper into the meaning, "Take the whole mood and tone of the song into account." Sometimes, it's just an accident. They were suddenly struck by a line and went, "Oh, goodie!" For sad songs, it's usually not the case.

Nearly everyone I know has a particular song that reminds me of them. Obviously, other people also have these associations. I feel intrusive when I attach a person to a song and believe someone else has already developed that intimate association.

There is a story about an Italian noble who had a prodigious art collection, but there was one piece that was housed behind curtains for the majority of its existence. It was controversial. It was offensive to the senses despite its meaning. Guests who knew about it understood why he had the good sense to keep it covered. Yet, when giving tours of his art collection to these critics, he would lead them to the curtains, full of mystery and anticipation. You see, the curtains weren't there to hide the piece, but to reveal it. For now, I have a green silk bathrobe from Victoria's Secret to make my curtains.

[Edit: Oh my lord, there is someone who understands echopraxia on OneSentence. Beautiful.
[Edit, edit: "I say now, that while there is a lower class, I am in it; and while there is a criminal element, I am of it; and while there is a soul in prison, I am not free." This is one of my favorite quotes, and it's by my favorite socialist, Eugene V. Debs. It was the Wikiquote of the day. Just sayin'.]]

Talk, Sex, Nemesis

"I want to be a part of something, not apart of something."
-Stasi, damn girl

"I don't really take something for truth unless I discover it myself."
-Chris

"Be water."
-Bruce Lee, via Gary

Intimacy. We talk about it, and in that, we create it.

Flaws:
arrogance
-intellectual elitism
-scorn
-exclusion on intellectual terms
obfuscating
ignorance
-close mindedness on certain issues
emotionally detached
-insensitivity
-brutal honesty
-causing unnecessary pain
jealousy
-occasional persecution complex
socially awkward
emotional/rational duality
impatient
inappropriate
sexual indifference and promiscuity
attention seeking
judgmental
proud

There's no reason to list my good qualities. The list would be much longer, and I believe my talents are, as a whole, more obvious.

Three nights ago, my dream was of sexual violence.
Two nights ago, my dream was of sexual anxiety, trauma, and fear.
One night ago, my dream was of a gorgeous autumn field.

Ohio is a fantastic song. Not many verses.

On that note (ha), I made a rockin' playlist and can't wait to share it.
I'm out of blank CDs.
:(

Singing, screaming, same thing. They serve the same release.

Things to Remember

Rimbaud- I embraced the summer dawn.- what a sad poem to fancy myself the dawn
Is it in these bottomless nights that you sleep, in exile
I found I could extinguish all human hope from my soul.
Baptism enslaved me.
I who fashioned myself a sorcerer or an angel, who dispensed with all morality, I have come back to earth.
The only unbearable thing is nothing is unbearable
mondegreen
the Wikipedia article of the Colonization of the Moon had fascinating links
I haven't read non-classic non-fiction in such a long time

Questions to No One in Particular

When did I start thinking in disconnected sentences? When did I start crying all the time? When did Matt and I stop being friends? Why is it so awkward to get a ride home? Why do I want to cry whenever I get out of the car? Why did Molly and I fall apart so completely? Why does that Valentine's Day feel so far away? When do people learn how to make friends? How did I miss that part of life? When will the trees be totally without leaves? If a president got divorced and remarried while in office, would she be the second First Lady? Why do I have three copies of the same poster in varying sizes? When am I going to finish watching Firefly? Why do I feel guilty about watching it with AJ instead of Matt? Why is sexual liberation lonely? Sometimes, thinking about the next generation, I wonder, "What could they possibly do to shock and offend my generation." I think they're all going to be conservatives. "Annie, are you okay? Are you okay? Are you okay, Annie?" Why has everyone in my family been hit by cars? Why does my mom have to clean this filthy house? Why has my mom had such a shitty, shitty life? Why I am so terrified of ending up like her? Why is my life so blessed? Why is there no better word than blessed? Who is the person who left their library receipt in the book I took out? Why do I wish Sarah lived farther away, so that walking to her house to apologize would hurt more? "Why he do dat?" Why haven't I been able to get strings for my electric guitar? Why do I keep calling my electric acoustic mandolin an electric mandolin? What would that even sound like? Why is my room absolutely perfect (besides the temperature)? Why this petty persecution? Why am I so interested in touching? Why don't I run away? "Which would you rather be, the person that you hope to be, or the person you fear you already are?"

For all my lonesome, I have no regrets.

Know1ng (not the Nicholas Cage movie)

As Big B once explained to me, there are four types of knowledge:

Known knowns: the things you know you know
Unknown knowns: the things you don't remember you know
Known unknowns: the things you know you don't know
Unknown Unknowns: the things you don't even know are possible to know

"The more I learn, the more I learn how little I know." Until very recently, I couldn't really figure out how this quote worked. Obviously, Socrates was a wise and educated philosopher, a giant among men. However, even established philosophers probably bullshit out their ass sometimes. Suddenly, I got it. Wikipedia was absolutely the catalyst for this epiphany. Praise be to the internet. The thought that struck me was, "Holy shit. I never knew this concept existed. Oh my gawd. There are bajillions of thoughts I haven't thunk! Ideas I've never come across before." And with that, my universe expanded, even if I couldn't see most of it.

As a snot-nosed, know-it-all teenage punk, I was, and still am to a slightly lesser degree, conceited. Oh, how I scorned the ignorant who had not sense to look around them. Fools, who did not realize their mortality put limits on the amount of time and amount of material they could learn. Bah. While that's an extreme exaggeration, I continue to get frustrated when kids in "upper level" classes do not live up to my expectations of the course requirements. In my self-absorbed, elitist appreciation of knowledge, even though I think I know "a lot," I realize there is a hella-lot more information I cannot conceive of. Despite the arrogance, I strive to continue the expansion of my knowledge. When an unknown unknown is forced into the realm of a known unknown, I can and will say, "I don't know, but I can find out."

This is not to say I think ignorance is necessarily evil. While I wish everyone could throw off the shackles of their ignorance, I know that most people will never be exposed to certain concepts, and I don't expect them to. Very little "knowledge" is relevant or necessary to daily life. Even in a professional occupation, the scope of understanding is usually confined to that particular field.

PS. "The more you know, the less you understand." I still don't really get this one. Also, Smash Mouth said something similar, so I'm a little biased.

PPS. Unrelated but awesome: Make your conscious act your conscience act.

Things On My Hand & Other Observations

transgressive
Amor Omnia Vincit
Bellocq
Code Noir: art 18?
invidious consumption
Danni: (WS(J)GGS)
the curtain was to reveal the painting, not to hide it

My new insurance kicks in today!

There are times when I am more brutal than honest.

It felt good to not let Shana put down Emily without calling her out.

Stasi's Halloween party was otherwise very fun.

It's not about the people who will always be "there" for you. It's about the ones who will come and get you when you can't get "there." Thanks, you guys.

I'm not seeking forgiveness, but there will be an apology.

On that note, I rescind these other apologies.

However, I would like to extend a retrospective apology to Nicki on how terribly awful her senior year show was. At least drumline made up for some of it?

I'm fairly awesome at impromptu speeches.

I can go for my license Nov. 5th.

I will not be going for my license on Nov. 5th.

Whenever I mention a specific date from last year, I don't mention that I remember because I was dating Dave.

Whenever I share a Dave related story in English or Psychology, I wonder if Brianna knows I'm talking about him.

Occasionally, I think about how my perspective of him has evolved from 6th grade to 12th.

Today, I watched A Prairie Home Companion. I'd seen it before, but it made me cry this time.

During my recovery from illness, after I'd slept for two days straight, I woke up to find my family had installed in our home a George Foreman Grill.

The George Foreman Grill is AWESOME.

"Hata's just jealous."

I don't like referring to Jack and me + Parent as family. It would mean we have two different families, even if I know it's more true.

Yesterday into today was some of the best Wikilinking in a loooong time.

My most defining feature is my love of learning. I can imagine a possible life for myself in changing every other aspect of my life except this one.

A cumulative pit history from my point of view is slowly taking shape. I want to include commentary from everyone.

Multifaceted. That word has so much possibility.

Senior Skip Day Monday!

I have a story to write about my mom and me, but it's personal.

Touch

I love the callouses on my finger tips, the delicate pain of accidentally brushing against the desk. Unfortunately, in my recent thought acquisition of pondering the sensation of touch, I have no desire to touch or to be touched. AP Psychology is, by far, one of the most interesting classes I have taken, on par with Euro.

Brook Farms without the Communism or Smallpox

Under the new made clouds and happy as the heart was long,
In the sun born over and over,
I ran my heedless ways.

ho' shit. this worked out sorta. let there be conversation. we need to come up with a name.

get a lot of comfortable, one book at a time

"I'm afraid that pigeons don't know right from wrong to not go out into the street. They don't have the kind of memory as we humans does to know what to do and what shall not do. They must don't know the danger their lives are being jeopardized. They must don't know what can happen in the human knowledge and sense. They land just about anywhere they can find a land on surface.

People are fearful of me, which I wonder if they think I'm so terrible or if they think I'm not human at all. I may be a stranger, but that doesn't make me a created monster or something like that. People aren't human. They act like ignorant dogs with their tail in back of their legs. They don't think whose feelings they hurt at all. They just do it. No consideration for whatsoever. People don't think about my feelings.
They don't give a hoot.
They don't give a crap.
Fear if you never knowing if you ever going to lose your mother is very sad and scary experience you have to learn from and you wonder why she has to die. I love her, and I have loved her once while she was alive, especially if she was the mother that raised you. You only wish that you could do all you can to save her life. There are gonna be worse times and hard times for Michael Bernard Loggins and his brothers and sisters too, especially on Mother's Day.
Afraid this is the last thing that will ever occur to me."

I want somebody here to appreciate NPR and PRI and storytelling and politics and vinyl records with me. There is far too often an idolization of ignorance in high school.

My thoughts have become such that I post in my secret blog more than this one. I have nothing to say to a group, and nothing happening day to day worth documenting.

Take Pictures

I don't take pictures of my friends.
There won't be pictures of me in high school.
I couldn't remember at the right times to get the buddy picture on Thursday.
There is one picture of just me and JoeKat.
There are maybe 5 pictures of Dave and me together at all.
There are only prom pictures of me and Jimmy.
There are no recent pictures of my little brother and I.
There are no pictures of my mom and I together since I "grew up."

Never Dreamed/Always Dreamed

I know that other people have experienced this. (I think.) But where are they, so we can go, "I know! Isn't it the best?! Isn't it all totally worth it?!"

It is more, but not the most.

I wrote John Hodgman a letter to tell him a few things and generally profess adoration. Then I couldn't find a mailing address for him. Then I scanned the letter and be-doodled envelope to send him a picture of the letter via email.

Every time you reached over to change the volume or the heat, it caught my eye.

My copy of Moby Dick has a black whale on the front cover.

All bets are off. I can wait.

I will find words to describe, but it will be too intimate.

Bad Dream

I had my first nightmare in a very, very long time. Friday night, I watched Quarantine with my mom, and it was so-so as a movie, but it was exactly the scary I was predicting. However, that night, I was having a completely ordinary dream, not a single hint of ominous forewarning, when it startled me awake. In the dream, I'd been talking to Joe M., who was standing close enough to fill most of my frame of vision, when over his right shoulder, one of the "infected things" crept towards him. It was probably less than two seconds of that image to shock me awake. The thing that distinguishes this dream from my usual zombie nightmares, is that after I woke up, I couldn't shake the fear. "I know it's not real. I know it's not real." It wasn't working. For minutes I consciously focused on the outline of Fred Flintstone and Peter Griffin. How would I draw them? What makes their cartoon character distinguishable? Images from the movie would interrupt these distraction thoughts to scare me. After I couldn't focus on the animated men, I went over my memories with Dave. I can't remember how much it hurt. I can't remember what being naively in love felt like. I didn't ever cry in front of him. Eventually, I fell back asleep.

songs I listened to recently

Australia
Poison Oak
Lime Tree
Napoleon's Hat
As Time Goes By
Teeth in the Grass
In the Valley
In the Sun
Honey and the Moon
Tangerine
Going to California
Us and Them
Time
I've Just Seen a Face
American Pie
The General
Mr. Tambourine Man
Within You
Vera
I'da Called You Woody, Joe
1930
You Keep the Diner, We're Getting a Divorce
Mr. Larkin
Day n Nite
Hero
She's Got You High
Everlong
No One Knows
Bonfire
All My Days
Wait
Orange Sky
Crinan Wood
The Twist
Modern Leper

Analogy and Tautology

"I won't dare give this hideous imitation a name. That would legitimize it."
"Giving Frankenstein a name wouldn't have made him any less a monster."

"Good! Fucking goddammit! You didn't deserve to see it. It would have been too good for you."

When the lightbulb went out, I sat for days, weeping in darkness, lamenting the loss of a good bulb and lack of a new one.

I watched the moon turn into the sun and the bats turn into birds and the transmutation of night to day was over.

production is consumption

and all your brilliance washed over me, blinding

the sun's light has to travel 93 million miles
I could never travel that in lifetimes
and I will not remember this moment of sunlight that has traveled so far for an instant

how many fucks didn't you give?
Zero. I gave zero fucks.

and in this mad and rushing collective, resentment

Has it sunk this far? Is it me you don't trust? or yourself? Can you even believe this? Can you even fucking believe it. Pussy.

I'm writing, writing, writing letters. It's for my health and not for you.

Call me out, but
please
please
please
call me up sometime

the spiral is exciting
I know I will not die
the plunging rush of failure
is how you start to fly

didn't listen to the song
just thought the plot was good

the night is so cold and the shoes are too small and the dress is too big and the quiet hopefulness growing too fast

pull out that list, baby

FUCK YOUR CONTROLS!
(this was written for somebody else, but I have adopted it)

Chloe likes limes and Lime Tree and where did those girls go?

let's hope somebody just turned off the light
rather than the bulb being burnt out

I do not respect martyrs for their death, but their life.

yes, yes, this smug smile's for you

"I poured my heart out"

Who the hell are you? Definitely not the savior I knew.

One of the reasons I am an atheist, besides my worship of reason, is seeing my mother beaten down by the god she follows so faithfully

You are ugly and so are your heart and your shoes!

[edit: I am going to replace you with pictures of older you, when you looked happy.]

Found/48 [no more, no less]

And so, now that there is no more hand holding, I am going to let go, and there will be nothing to stop me.

Two days ago, I woke up at 5 AM so that Matt's dad could pick me up on our way to Jersey for Duel on the Delaware. Because of my early attendence, my assigned volunteer position was that of parking staff. I wore a nifty orange jacket and sat on a chair and nearly fell asleep. Sometime around 8, I was dismissed, and left to my own wandering devices. There was lots of food with sugar in it. Therefore, I ate lots of sugary foods. After I realized I could go to the pit area and talk with the functioning team, it was much more enjoyable and less absolutely tiring. My job was stake out the competition and take notes. Eventually, I made a friend. After we got eliminated in semi-finals, it was much easier to talk to people, especially as the SAT kids had arrived. Cleaning up was alright, because it kept me busy. The ride home was pleasant. That night, I snuck out. 'twas fun.

Yesterday, Viv invited me to travel with her to Michael's and Target, a lovely ride in Earl, and then a return home where we would commence making rainbow cupcakes. While we were sidetracked by super-gluing her sister's leg shut from an accidentally self-inflicted knife wound, I eventually settled in to watching last week's episode of house and eating cupcake batter from the bowl. Chase took off his shirt, James Earl Jones is talented, and cupcake batter is delicious. The show was playing over Viv's Mac (go PC), on her counter, so we could both watch. I, leaning over the counter in a pulled up chair, watched Viv organize bowls and dye and utensils. It made me feel like a little kid.

Today, Matt, Gary, Kate, Hannah, and I went to Linvilla Orchards to try and get class-worthy photographs for Matt. Unfortunately, Linvilla is not the place for artistic or scenic photography, but still the family-friendly stomping grounds of my childhood. Besides it crawling with small children, I had a splendid afternoon. Everyone went on the hayride, tried "cider doughnuts," looked at chickens and fancy pidgeons. Afterwards, Matt and I went to Clayton Park so he could finish up his roll of film. We hopped a chain link fence. Behind the fence were rusty construction vehicles with plants growing over them. Photogenic! Band was chilly. I make up words to America. It feels subtly hostile to be there and there's really no reason for me to stick out the season. But, I still kick butt and it would be pointless to switch out now, even if I want to go to the football games as a spectator.

The Twilight Zone

"Martin, I only wanted to tell you that this is a wonderful time of life for you. Don't let any of it go by without enjoying it. There won't be any more merry-go-rounds, no more cotton candy, no more band concerts. I only wanted to tell you that this is a wonderful time for you. Now. Here. That's all. That's all I wanted to tell you. God help me. That's all I wanted to tell you.

Martin, age thirty-six, vice-president in charge of media. Successful in most things but not in the one effort that all men try at some time in their lives - trying to go home again. And also like all men perhaps there'll be an occasion, maybe a summer night sometime, when he'll look up from what he's doing and listen to the distant music of a calliope, and hear the voices and the laughter of the people and the places of his past. And perhaps across his mind there'll flit a little errant wish, that a man might not have to become old, never outgrow the parks and the merry-go-rounds of his youth. And he'll smile then too because he'll know it is just an errant wish, some wisp of memory not too important really, some laughing ghosts that cross a man's mind, that are a part of the Twilight Zone."

This is how I want to write; these are the ideas I want to write about. It's not about the past, not any past I long for, but the innocence. The Twilight Zone is my favorite television show, for this episode, for others, the writing, the memories- the New Year's Eves of childhood watching a marathon on Sci-Fi. I want to share beautiful, meaningful things, and this show is one of them.

7/21!

Birthday shout out. ~<:D

Strange Things Are Happening to Me, Ain't No Doubt About It

Things have been so very strange emotionally. Friday night back at band, I felt like to be alive was powerful.

I invited someone to see my secret blog, the third person to ever see any of the blog, let alone all of it. We talked about it, about the universal nature of heartbreak, regret, hope, defeated resignation, because sometimes, even if it hurts, there's nothing you can do about it. We spoke about the freedom of summer, the things we missed, how we could've done it better and still have everything.

I'm looking for flattering associations, something that will make me feel sexy and playful and casually cool. This year, I have become something more than I used to be. It's startling, to be a sought after personality, somebody people might actually want to talk to. I waxing poetic on how my brother got all the cool in our family, and I got the academic smarts. Kim very warmly chided me, saying that she thought I was cool. I meant "the Fonz" cool, "wearing aviators because you think they are a legitimate fashion statement" cool, leather jackets and cigarettes. It was still a pleasant notion.

I'm listening to Alexi Murdoch right now, my adventure music, my peaceful music, my "this feels like the first warm afternoons of summer" music. I wouldn't change anything, but this is the first time I have dealt with regret for any length of time, however extremely short it's been.

tell me everything
i want to know everything about everything

I got kicked out of band last night because I don't have the class
and I had dressed like an emo
because it was picture day
and nobody recognized me
Wasiq didn't want to sit with me
but then laughed a lot
when he realized it was me
and nobody said hi to me in the halls
because they didn't know it was me
and that it was okay to say hi
because it's a tough decision
who to say hi to

and I was dressed like an emo
when D told me I couldn't be in band anymore
and he told me it wasn't his decision
and I wanted to scream BULLSHIT
and cry
and run away
but I asked whose decision it was
and he said the guidance counselor and principal
which is a lie
but we'll take it to a higher fight
so I walked away
and I cried a little bit
and the kids on the drumline bus wondered what had happened
and Mike and Rose texted me all night
and Mike cried during saints
when there was no one to yell with
and he teared up during the songs
when nobody was dancing
and I went to the game anyway
dressed like an emo
and nobody knew me
and I teared up when I heard saints
and I teared up when Mike texted me
and Rose texted me
and it wasn't the same
and then I visited them during third quarter
and Mike hugged me for a long time
because he was my freshman buddy

after I got home
I texted Jeff
and I told him that I couldn't be in band anymore and that I went down on Fava on Wednesday and that I talked to Jimmy and it was awkward and that I missed talking to him (Jeff)
and he said
"I've been feeling generally unhappy and uninterested in life. Sorry to hear about band. miss you too"
and I thought maybe he was joking
because it was emo day
so I took a picture of me dressed like an emo
captioned
"that hurt"
and he didn't respond for a minute
and then ten minutes
and I wondered maybe he wasn't joking
and I cried
because all he said was "sorry about band"
the activity that I'd been in since my freshman year
meant so much to me
introduced me to him
and to Viv
and pancakes
and pit parties
and my whole life
was that band
and he said "sorry to hear about band"
and I cried

Matt and I haven't been good friends for a while
I haven't had a class with him for two years
our senior class picture was Wednesday
and afterwards we had all the "friend" pictures
and I didn't belong in any of them
there is no group I belong with
I had people to stand with
and I got in a few photos
but I didn't belong there
it made me feel very, very alone
Matt dressed like Waldo
because it was a senior prank we came up with when we were still BFFs
and Kingsboro made him take his hat off

I got on the "WOW" fridge of the annoying new art teacher for color and 2D and we all talk about how they basically replaced Las with young and annoying Las
she called my house
to tell my parents I was doing an outstanding job
and my dad wasn't hoe
*home
and she didn't call again or leave a message

my sweater smells like smoke
because we had a bonfire pit party last Saturday
and Mike and Rose and Mason S. came
and it was an awesome party
really splendid and fun and a great kick off
and then afterwards
it was Matt, Stasi, Katie R., and Nick K.
and the last two were dating
and awful
and about to end their relationship
(they did today)
and Katie was annoying and overconfident in her abilities and Nick doesn't belong and kept talking and Stasi listend and responded and Matt and I stared at the fire
and Stasi, being perceptive, noticed, and asked us
and Matt said we were the last kids truly in the pit
and I wanted him to say it
because I had kept thinking it
how he is Jeff
and I am Viv without cooking and a little bit Jeff
and how things haven't been the same


and I looked at all of Jeff's old pictures today
from that party
at the D.'s
when it snowed like ice
and we ran outside
and played bear in the east
and sledded to katie r.'s
when she was still fun
and tore up her yard
and almost fell into the ravine
and I loved Matt then
and he didn't love Kacey yet
and JoeKat loved Gina
and she loved him too
and we were all friends
and Trisha was still invited to parties and part of our school
sometimes, I think she is really lonely too

thank you for being my confessional

always.

Found Out Today

Today was, if all efforts fail,
the last day I had the right to call myself a GV band kid.
Thanks for the adventure.

Today was, if all efforts fail,
the day I began planning.
Thanks for giving me something else to do on Wednesdays.

Today was, if all efforts succeed,
the first day of many football games.
Thanks for the freedom.

We Will No on Saturday

My dad compared the level of my brother's science class to:
"dissecting insects with a hammer."

Yesterday, we had the interesting free write prompt in English,
"What makes someone popular?"

"ps- if you ever change your mind, you are always welcome back."
-text

I went back to the land of my last childhood "best friend" summer.

My dad saw me crying, keeping my head up,
and decided to fight my battle for me.

Bring on the eye liner, Dan G.'s pants, and Abby's music.
Tomorrow is picture day.

Jumping to Conclusions

I hate you.

I hate your incompetence, your ignorance, your selfish jealousy.

I hate your attitude.

I hate what you have done to my life, the things you don't realize.

I hate that you didn't consider the consequences.

I hate how you hurt me, because I let myself care.

she sings/and sang/now you

We are all such accidents. We do not make up history and culture. We simply appear, not by our own choice. We make what we can of our condition with the means available. We must accept the mixture as we find it — the impurity of it, the tragedy of it, the hope of it.
-Saul Bellows




I have now have Concert Band, BDF, 1st period, 2nd semester, complemented by Strength and Conditioning with Mrs. Knox. I'm excited to see Mrs. Knox again, but I might skip every day of band, take the F and the Saturdays.

'Missed you guys! :D The "welcome back" hugs were phenomenal. Simply showing up has never felt more like "suck it. suck it. just... suck it." *insert Godzilla roar and arm flail*

I have Physics with Gary and Dan S. I'm delighted and displeased.

Not learning in art, but still learning oodles in other classes, though the work is catching up with me as the courses really start.

Robotics Animation is AWESOME! I'm learning there too. :]

Kira and I went to the car show. It was cold. There were cars. Also, best group project ever with many inside jokes. Our table in English is by far the most diverse/best group.

p.s. I was 99% right about my previous prediction, but she said no (internally, I threw up my hands filled with confetti and wore a party hat).

Stream of Consciousness: Overwhelmed

oh and i'm shaking and weeping not for the past in sadness but truth and beauty and fragility and that my future will repeat the past and is doomed to repeat and I love you and him so much and there's so much and I can't hold on the desk isn't solid and breathing out making everything tighter and it's so full and so loud and so quiet and the light is flashing and tears are blurring and everything is beautiful and nothing hurt and I wanted them to leave before you did and it's slipping and everything's slipping but into something cool and calm and I enjoy the ride and the loss and the shaking and somber and I didn't turn on the light and I've cried so much on this desk and there's soot on my face and my hair and my clothes and always in my hair and Jimmy can smell it and I wonder if they wonder and it was so perfect and content and this is what it should be and we are the last and it's not coming out right and I can't force it out and it's all building up and silent and terrible and so much shaking and god, it was so beautiful it made me cry and overwhelming and I cannot touch him and I cannot touch him and I will not touch him and he will not see me and I am scared to see him and I'm scared for his life and I'm scared for letting them down and seeing them hurt. So much love and truth and beauty. It's not enough, this isn't helping. I cannot be Viv. I cannot give them so much happiness. They're speaking through me because they shaped me because I didn't have a choice, but I did and I love who I am I love who I am I love who I am you are in opposition to everything we stand for. You are ugliness and lies and stupidity and fuck fuck fuck fuck so much anger for your everything and for making fun of him and not standing up for him, but I wouldn't associate myself with him, he's weird. Augh. Please please please let me let me let me get what I want Viv is Summer and I love summer and I am alive in the summer and I made him alive and I weep and breathe and cry and take in the air and there are tears and I exhale. So much love, it's overwhelming. So much time and memory. I felt beautiful today and I'm going extinct.

"My Little Brother"

He's taller than me and has been for a long time now. The center in a cult of personality, he's magnetic, a clever kid who passes gracefully through the hoops of social circles. As his sister, I am utterly possessed by the notion, "He is the good kid. He is the smart one. He does not succumb to peer pressure; he is the peer pressure, hopefully not for devious intent." Despite his academic performance, he's not dumb. In no aspect is he stupid, though sometimes he plays the part. Like any human, he changes depending on who is surrounded by. The tone of voice, his words, they change instantly when our conversation is interrupted by a phone call. Youth nurtures his casual and indestructible persona, complemented by negligence and an infallibility complex. I worry. Over and over and over, I repeat that my fear is to see him die an untimely death. Tonight, he told me he is going to fight another kid. I don't worry about this fight. He has honor and general opinion on his side. We stood talking, him casually framed in silhouetted by the darkened laundry room, wearing boxers and jeans. I had never noticed that he is quite literally "jacked." The weight set in his room is not for show. The nightly crunches are not mythical. He is much older than I remember him, so much cooler than me.

We are so similar in our potential, so different in the expression of those ambitions.

"La la la, words, la, words"

When I was newly welcomed into this world, my room was the one currently occupied by my brother. I more remember this as a fact, rather than memories of actually staying and sleeping in the room before being relocated to my current residence. However, I do remember that in the corner by the window, there was a rocking chair. It was very rounded, with a wooden frame and arm rests, covered by some thin fabric upholstery. My mom used to sing to us or read us stories as we sat in her lap. In my head, I also remember my dad would sometimes be the provider of stories and lap space, but this may be inaccurate. Either by time casting a warm glow on the past, or by the power of a nightlight, all of these memories recall the lighting as a dim, yellow-orange light. When it was absolutely, last-call time for bed, we would get one reprieve; nobody had to go to bed until the last note of Amazing Grace was finished. This did not manifest itself in a desperate, "slow as possible" rendition, but that the last note was to be held out as long as our little lungs could. Mom always won.

......... ............... .........

On the way to preschool as a toddler, my mother would sing with me in the car. Zip-a-Dee Doo Dah leading into You Are My Sunshine. After my brother was born, she commenced teaching us Hort v Kloop d'Kinderen, a Dutch Christmas song of dubious spelling, to imbibe us with a little bit of cultural heritage. I still remember the words and fondly recited them for Mr. Geating's algebra class upon being caught late once in the holiday season. It is my current recollection that Jack never quite remembered all the lyrics, even in the time we sang it every day.

......... ............... .........

Freshman year, everything was bright with the adoration of naivity. It was the first time I had heard Ben Folds or the Dresden Dolls. I finally learned the words to Hallelujah beyond the chorus. Prior to that year, I sang a little, but hardly ever by myself in public. The sound of my voice, as it remains today, verged slightly upon the adjective "unpleasant." Beyond fear of criticism, I'm not entirely sure why I was reluctant to sing. Singing is such an intimate action, I was surprised and in awe of this group that let boys and girls sing real songs on real buses in real public spaces. We all knew the words by heart, and then opened those hearts to each other when we opened our mouths. It was very much a cult of personality. The year Jeff graduated was the year Viv went to prom and never came home again. The next year, singing was done at the oversight of Jeremy or Schade, "80s" (while rockin', still restrictive). Now, there are two years that don't know the words to Hallelujah or Freshmen, one year reluctant to sing, and one year who can't reclaim the harmonies of the past.

......... ............... .........

This summer, I snuck out with Nick F. We drove around some, walked around some, and talked quite consistently through the early hours of the morning. Nearing 4 AM, it was decided that to avoid the possibility of a night into morning conflict with parents, we should be at our respective homes by 5 AM, so we returned to the car. First, we listened to the psychadelic rock of Vanilla Fudge and Deep Purple, followed by the vocalized instrumental "Regatta de Blanc" by The Police. Parading through unmarked CDs of funk and indie, we stumbled upon the ultimate playlist genre. "Cheese." The first sweet notes brought to our ears on this CD may well have been the opening drum beats from "Never Gonna Give You Up." Delighted and immediately fascinated by this discovery, we eventually struck upon "Amazed" by Lonestar. The mildly twangy crooning sang over sweet and sappy piano was laughable and inappropriate for the moment, and still, we persisted. Growing to the chorus, I hummed the words I did not know and quietly mouthed the ones I did. Nick, fantastic vocalist that he is, started belting. I could not rightfully leave him hanging when it was obvious I knew the words to the chorus. The strangest 4AM sing-along completed, I nearly laughed 'til I cried, or at least until I got home.

It's Gonna Be a Long Walk Home

I went to a church today for the first time several years.

I could remembered being the person who held their hands up to "feel God."

The speaker talked about creationism, specifically mentioning how plants "defy gravity" by being able to draw water from the ground. I realize that it is currently unexplained, but it made me realize that religion used to be able to claim anything mysterious as a miracle of God.

I walked home. Luckily, it had stopped raining.

I hadn't walked in a while.

"Oh, lovely. How ugly."

Good ideas for my Color/2D notebook cover didn't go so well.
Individually, the pieces are perfect.
Together, it's very messy.

The Number Translation I Forgot to Look For

"
When I got off the plane, after eleven hours of travel and forty years away, the man took my passport and asked me the purpose of my visit, I wrote in my daybook, “To mourn”, and then, “To mourn try to live,” he gave me a look and asked if I would consider that business or pleasure, I wrote, “Neither.” “For how long do you plan to mourn and try to live?” I wrote, “For the rest of my life.”
"

I may re-read this before I give the book back to Viv. She finally got around to answering my Facebook message today, ironically, the first day of senior year.
It made me smile and cry.
Oh.
Contradiction.

"the Only Thing more Fleeting than Summer is Childhood"

It's been a while since I've been able to coherently express my uncensored thoughts in one continuous paragraph. This block is not for lack of material. My summer was full of wild adventure, soft moments, and a strong sense of close camaraderie. Some of the adventures I did not write about because everyone I want to share them with was there, or they are very personal. Earlier, my tender moments incited brash anger and sadness. I have no desire to recount my warm meshing of personality or guilty conflict of logic and emotion in a public forum. For all of the turmoil, this summer is another large and brilliant pearl layered of memories, strung along the collection of lovely seasons I have been through. Ever since I was little, I strongly associated myself with summer. Now, I make the flattering comparison of warmth and freedom, trying new things. I sang this summer, played guitar, listened to different music, read books that moved me to tears and to action, went skinny dipping in the ocean (twice), screamed, felt more connected and accepted than in any previous experiences, lazily floated down the Brandywine, jumped off the rope swing, talked about math, talked about science, geohashed, dressed up like a pirate, had a summer romance, went on roller coasters, rode Ferris wheels, watched stars, fires, and fireflies, smelled like smoke, climbed trees, even messed around in Wal*Mart.

"just the smell of summer can make me fall in love..."
-Modest Mouse

Recent Developments: I make a friend

Sup, babe? I got fast fingers and a good grasp of adjectives. What do you say to some explicit communications via text message?
-me

Hahahahahahaha i love you!
-Girl!

I'm not looking for commitment. I never said anything about love except the hot, sweet physical kind. Hope your night with Stasi is deep and emotion delving!

I wanna lick your sweet adverb dripping body.

Hahaha. I am scandalized by how quickly this friendship turned physical. But I admit, I was only in this for your adverb adjective body and your adjective wit.

Haha. Chloe. Lets be friends.

I heartily endorse that statement. I would invited you over for a sleepover and pillow fight or what not, but neither of us has finished our summerwork.
-Chloe, end communication

"when I am 24, I will tell people I am 4!"

I make my brother out to be such a badass, which he is, of course, but it makes all of my friends want to meet him. I think he's too cool for most of us.

When I have my silver studs in and a bandanna on to hold back my hair, I feel almost sorta like a badass.

I downloaded some Weezer today. My impression of them would be so much better if their first song I heard wasn't Beverly Hills.

I have eaten more food while outside of my home (mostly Stasi's and bandcamp) than I have in my house since Thursday.

On the AP Lit. journal requirements sheet, it says, "It's More then Just Rain." I think it's a grammar mistake, but it might not be.

[Edit: C&H Depressing comic week is really good at owning up to its title.]

Emoticon: Words, Words, Words

Our new fridge is too warm to keep milk safe and the freezer is not cold enough to keep popsicles frozen. Right now, we have our old fridge set up in the barn and my dad says, "...it makes me feel like a hillbilly, but at least it's not out on the porch."

Thusly, this evening, as I ventured upon a short jaunt into the night to fetch some milk fo' milk and coo-kays, I stepped on a slug. It was big. And, it was sticky.

On Saturday, I told the freshman what Katie wishes she had been able to.

I've gotten so much better at guitar since I start pwn'ing bar chords.

Because I was invited to sing at the talent show, I figured I should probably figure out what my voice sounds like. I started recording myself singing songs within my vocal range, and it's easier to figure out how to fix the way things sound now. I'm almost starting to not dislike my singing voice.

Hot Knives has been promoted to one of my favorite Bright Eyes songs because I can play it and sing it, and some of the lyrics remind me of who I wish I was.

All through the summer I've developed many varied and new friendships. They're not permanent yet, I know, but it's still a fascinating group of interrelated people who all talk about each other.

I've finally found a group of girls who I enjoy talking about sex with. It's finally girls who know, enjoy, and understand.

Last year, I promised my teachers that I would write them appreciation letters. I even handed out "IOUs." Unfortunately, while I still appreciate them, I haven't put it into words yet...

Roughly a quarter of the times I get ready for bed at night I think, "Barely seventeen and barely dressed..."

Words I wrote on my hand today: "Tonton Marcoute" and "blephanoplasty."

[Edit:
"I call on you not to hate because hate does not leave a space for a person to be fair and it makes you blind and closes all doors of thinking and keeps away one from balanced thinking and making the right choice. I also call on you not to hate the peoples of the other countries that attacked us and differentiate between the decision-makers and peoples. Anyone who repents... you must forgive him."

The previous are words taken from the last letter of an important political leader and humanitarian. He advocated free, modernized health care, free education, and a diversified national infrastructure campaign, winning an award from the United Nations Education, Science, and Cultural Organization for his work. He never met his father, his only older brother died of cancer at age 13, despite this, still managed to achieve one of the most prominent roles in international government in recent years. It's funny the things I didn't know about Saddam Hussein because I was close minded.]

Chloe Waits...

During the late summer of the last four years, as it got closer to 9:30, I began to dread the end of band practice. Aimless milling about is uncomfortable for me; I am not good at conversing. While I don't really like it, I usually have fun and get to hug people. The worst is waiting for my dad to come. I'm consistently one of the last kids waiting, even delaying instructors from their own homes. I've never bothered to carpool or learn to drive. Even worse than not talking in a large group is not talking one on one.

I Met Blink-182

Thursday, August 27th, at roughly 1:00 in the afternoon, I began my adventure to the best of the three concerts I have been to. Rachel's mom, Mrs. K., drove her daughter, Sean L., Joel W. and me into Philly so that we could take the ferry across the Susquehanna into Camden. I got bitch seat because I'm the littlest. A ticket costs six dollars for adults and runs, on time, every hour on the hour. We took up our wait by seating ourselves on a flat slate barrier several feet above the murky water, but not many feet from the edge. Conversation was excellent, discussing the band, concert, friends, observations, and generally hilarious stories. Through the efforts of the boys, we listened to Taking Back Sunday and Weezer, two of the bands who would be headlining. Upon boarding the ferry, we got a seat on the upper deck, facing the water, and I read all of the safety guidelines should the ferry suffer any number of tragedies and require an emergency response. Philadelphia is a beautiful city, and I wish I had brought my sketch pad. Camden is not beautiful.

Because the concert opened its gates at 5:30, we were one of the earliest groups there, setting up Rachel's "stoner blanket" as the fifth group in line behind one of the gates. A man with a fanciful hipster hairdo asked us if we wanted pictures taken of us for Taking Back Sunday's website. Of course, we agreed, and I'm sure we were absolutely adorable. An unsucessful attempt at hackey sack was made, but while Sean was sufficiently capable and Joel bordering on "not bad," Rachel and I were lucky if we hit the tiny, bean-filled ball. It was initially meant to be a flirting technique, but it becames more of a hazard zone as all boys quickly hurried past our area of play.

Rachel had her heart deadset on buying the limited edition, silk-screened concert t-shirt that only 182 copies were made of. Because of this, when the very beginnings of a merchandise booth was being set up outside the gates, we immediately set up residence to wait. There, another concert goer named Jackie, started talking to us about the band, being broke, and general conversation. It was very pleasant, and coincidentally, the boys we had left to guard the blanket had separately begun talking to her boyfriend, as we found out later. At one point in our line waiting adventure, we saw that the boys were giving out their phone numbers to t-Mobile representatives. We laughed at them, until they shouted to us they were signed up to meet the band. Infuriated, but not leaving our place in line, Rachel called, and they said they had actually registered in a raffle to meet the band. While still upset they hadn't called us over, we laughed it off, saying there were 25,000 people coming to this concert and there's no way they could win. For safe measure, we signed up when they came over to the merchandise line.

One of the men setting up the booth had said that the limited edition t-shirt was going to be seventy dollars. Rachel was astounded, and didn't have the money because she had to buy advance ferry tickets for the people who had not arrived yet. I lent her my money, as I was five dollars short of any t-shirt. However, as the first people in line, we learned they did not have the limited edition shirt at this particular stand, and so Rachel gave my money back so I could buy fire engine red "Feeling This?" underwear. We took our place in line, which was almost organized because it was getting close to entrance time, and Joel had transformed the blanket saving our spot into "one badass scarf." I texted some, but it was generally good talking, laughing, and being excited.

5:30!!! They let us in the gates and Rachel immediately bolted for the nearest merchandise stand, shoving aside other quick ticket holders and being the first person to purchase one of the shirts she so desired. Luckily, the other guy was a liar, and this shirt was only thirty dollars, to her relief. Some of us went to the t-Mobile stand to get our free gifts of sidekick beach balls and to use the facilities. We met up with the rest of the kids we would be spending the concert with, namely Meg, Joe, Alex, Amanda, Steve, Hannah, and Mel. We had an incredible seat, with a small patch of grass, close and center. Here we stayed, with more laughing, talking, and excitement until Rachel got a phone call. Chester French had started playing very loudly, disrupting the phone call, so Rachel ran towards an open spot to be able to hear. I very excitedly watched her, her far off leaps and bounds revealing that she, of the 25,000 concert guests, was going to meet blink-182. I ran off after her, ready to worship her feet after she met them, eager to hear how the incredible meeting went. At first, she ran to the wrong end, and was fearful she would be too late. Luckily, she arrived in the right spot and she was given a pink wrist band. Luckily for me, she got to bring a guest, to our surprise.

The guy who was organizing the event for t-Mobile had a sense of humor, and because of Rachel's extreme reaction of happiness, he sorta messed with her. Almost unbelievably, while waiting in line, we found out that Jackie's boyfriend who had been talking to the boys had also won and Jackie was going to meet the band as well. With a complete lack of dignity, Rachel and I started calling everyone we knew who would bother to care. My brother was jealous, but manly calm about it. Then, at their order, we got in a single file line and excitedly walked into the arena, waiting in a food court for access to the backstage area. While there, not two feet from a trashcan and only a few staggered steps from a bathroom, an inebriated young man puked. Rachel, who was excited to a point beyond what is medically healthy and usually has a mirror reaction to that action, was doing fine, to my great relief. Backstage, they told us that we could not have any cameras and that all three of the band members would sign one object for us, but not to ask for anything else.

We were waiting through the end of Chester French and through Taking Back Sunday. The only bad part is that the line was right outside of the catering area, and caterers know how to cook to please the senses when all we had eaten was overpriced chicken and fries. Finally, the band came out and set up their autograph table. Rachel went a small ways out of line to get a better look, and Mark gave her the standard man head nod. She just about shrieked and swooned. All of the security guards were joking about the fangirl reactions we were having and put us at ease. They allowed one or two people at a time at the table. First Rachel, then I joined her and told them that while I was a big fan, my brother was an even bigger one. They signed the underwear I had just purchased and we received free stickers and a CD of Travis and DJ-AM (who died in a coke overdose two days later, on August 29th). Tom told Mark to cover his face, because Rachel was crying, and hugged her. Apparently, he's cuddly. Then, we took a picture of the group together and led us away.

We got back in between sets, and Weezer was not on yet. I enjoy most of their singles, but have no idea about any of the other songs on their albums. Their performance etiquette was fantastic and it really psyched up the whole crowd. Thanks to radio 104.5, I knew the words to their new single "If You're Wondering If I Want You To (I Want You To)," which I thoroughly enjoy. Their last song was "Should I Stay or Should I Go?" During which, I was squished between two guys jumping and I did my best to jump with them. It was fun. After their sets were finished, they played keyboard cat. Then, blink!! They opened with The Anthem, Part 2. Tom was the tinest bit drunk, and while very funny, made many a dick and fart joke.

Joel and I rocked out and sang every line until he found (or formed) a mosh pit right in front of us. We ran into Evan P., Max G., Joe P., and Taylor J., the first of whom also participated in the moshing. I pretty much jumped and sang and danced to every line. I got a little bit moshed on and a little bit grabbed by the waist by a drunk guy until Meg saved me. Tom forgot a few of the lyrics, but the crowd carried him through and it was overall a great performance. They closed with Reckless Abandon, and the crowd refused, chanting "One more song! One more song!" At that, Travis came out, and in his levitating, spinning, and angling drum set, played "Some West Coast Shit." Then, the rest of the band came out and eventually finished with Dammit. They played all of my favorite songs and two I didn't know the lyrics to, one of them being Man Overboard.

The line for the ferry back was hell (this line will last forever, and ever, and ever...), but it still saved more time than if Sean's dad had driven up through Jersey, paying tolls and fighting traffic. We realized that during the concert, someone had kicked Rachel's bag and we had lost four of the tickets and had to buy new ones back. After getting tickets, but before getting on the boat, we sang "On a Boat." Though by some mighty miracle, they told our group they only had room left for ten people, the exact number we happened to be. We were glad we did not have to face the embarrassment of a.) not being on a boat after singing that and b.) facing the wrath of everyone who heard us singing.

There was sleepy conversation on the way back and Mr. L. is an interesting guy. I woke up incredibly sore. My neck still hurts a lil' bit.

One of the freshman and I are doing the talent show together! Snaps a plenty!

There were 1.4 billion fewer credit card solicitations sent out in '09 than in '08.

Weezer and Third Eye Blind both had good albums come out this month.

Holy goodness! blink-182 concert today!
I'm also excited to hear Weezer's new single.

Band camp has been super awesome this week!
Except for 4/6 of the pit (battery reject) freshmen.

Being outrageous makes them notice I'm cute.
Then they notice I'm nice too.

"god, this long fucking fight
is lost"

Goodbye hugs are the hardest and easiest to remember.
Sometimes though, I wish they would blur together.

I think I'm going to go out and legitimately get some make up,
still not much though, only enough to apply "smokey eye."

"Lightning comes and lightning goes, it's all the same to me."

The riff from "No One Knows" by Queens of the Stone Age is catchy.

I tremendously enjoyed Huck Finn.
I develop crushes on literary figures too often.

Brandywine

Between the Brandywine River Museum and Smith's Bridge, there is a rope swing. It is nearly perfect, considering the many variables that go into making a great ride. The water is deep, the bank high and climbable, and the rope sturdy. To get a real pendulum swing, it is necessary to climb up the supporting tree and jump from there. I am scared of heights, and it is very intimidating from up in the tree. However, one of my summer resolutions was to jump if the option presented itself. I screamed an exhilarating scream and almost forgot to let go.

Gina is the only person who can have any personal interest in my actions. However, my reactions were terrible and I am ashamed of them. Those, everyone has a right to gut me for.

This Is Underhanded

Dear Gina,

You may consider it a cold and painful betrayal for me to say this and address you as "dear," but I still love you. You are still the same incredible person, even though now you can see me for the backstabber I am. My guilt is infinitesimal compared to every emotion you are experiencing, even before the sickening physical feelings. Even if I could explain what I did, it wouldn't change your terrible pain. I'm not going to ask for forgiveness. I know not only is it useless, but there may not be a time in the near future when I deserve it. I am sorry this had to be in a sterile and public blog, but I know that any private communication between us would only further your heartbreak.

With all of my heart,
Chloe

........ ...................... .........

Dear Sarah,

Gina needs you by her side, and I need you there for her too. We need to have a professional and cordial relationship for band, but beyond that, do give the vaguest consideration for my motivation. I'll miss you.

Sincerely,
Chloe

........ ...................... .........

Abby,

I'll continue to be the hypocritical backstabbing slut and you can continue to hate me while both parties who were actually involved are at college. You're the only one I'm angry at for this line "If this is my reaction, imagine what it will do to her." Your reaction doesn't matter. She knew well before you did. I don't have to imagine what her reaction was. It was made very clear the sickening, heartbreaking pain I have inflicted on my friend. After this, I'm sure you won't tell me what the old stories are, but I'm still curious.

Chloe

........ ...................... .........

Dear Joey,

I am ashamed to see you. Some of the only relief I have found is that you are an amazing brother and will be there for her. I know you are reasonable and will be cordial.

Sincerely,
Chloe

Just the Smell of the Summer...

I am not ready to be a senior. This time next year, I will be left or leaving.

I tried making myself nothing to protect you, but they always promise, "Nothing can hurt you."

I believe in Page 89.

Did you sing "Happy Birthday" to your mom? You sing when I sing, even if we don't know the words.

Thursday could otherwise be a funny and embarrassing story.

I listened to the playlist "Girly Songs" for the first time since last October.

Playing guitar and singing is embarrassing for me. I didn't know you were there.


I kissed Jeff.

One must eat muffins quite calmly, it is the only way to eat them.

After three free years of dutiful, fashionable service, I need to get new flip-flops. :(

Tubing was super fun and Kate is super awesome! Part of me wishes the boys had floated off together so we could girly gossip.

I have books to read! Also, I don't know where the Huck Finn journals are or what we're supposed to do for How to Read Literature Like a Professor.

Even if I were to explain everything, it will still hurt. Seeing me will still make you want to cry.

Nick has disappeared off the face of the earth again. It sucks waiting.

I'm not scared that I'll wind up alone.

The Devil Made Them Clever

I'm for decency — period. I'm for anything and everything that bodies love and consideration for my fellow man.

If you can make a woman laugh you can do anything with her.

We can live with dignity - we can't die with it.

the most dangerous plaything.
the most dangerous game.

A woman's strength is in her tongue.

His style is chaos illumined by flashes of lightning.

Friendship is far more tragic than love. It lasts longer.

Will they notice? No? It should be assumed not, but I do not investigate myself, merely dismiss it.

One must eat muffins quite calmly, it is the only way to eat them.

Fear is the enemy of logic.

I am a miser of my memories of you
And will not spend them.

One need not be a chamber to be haunted;
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place.

We do not remember days, we remember moments. The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten.

Reminiscences make one feel so deliciously aged and sad.

A man's real possesion is his memory. In nothing else is he rich, in nothing else is he poor.

Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened into the rose-garden.

Things to Say

1. For my own jealous purposes, I wished you ill. Then, I felt ill.

2. I'm sorry I never invited you to my house for movies and an adventure.

3. You are very encouraging despite my doubt, "Are we really friends?"

4. I wasn't joking and I know you knew it.

5. You're a cool kid. Tag team rules.

6. It is impossible to express how much I value our conversation and your friendship.

7. I'm sorry I'm a shitty friend, but you make me scared and jealous. You're the only person who can do that though, so congrats.

8. I miss you, but what can we even talk about? I would listen to you for hours talk about anything, but I always feel like it's gossip, about you, or nothing.

9. I don't think any boy or girl is good enough for you. You are unique.

10. I'm going to miss you a lot. Even though you just left, and we didn't talk frequently, you understood my embarrassment and left an open invitation.

11. I told you we weren't friends. I tried tonight, not well, but I was hampered by fear. I hope, in the least, you recognized the awkward effort.

12. I love you, and I love your family, and I wish there had been time enough for me to appreciate you more. I'm utterly ecstatic for you, but a lil' jealous he gets your time.

13. We should be friends. You are interesting and exceptional.

14. Love her and tell her she is gorgeous, because you are finally a guy who might deserve her.

15. Part of your mystery is being unreachable and far away. It forces us to miss you.

16. So far, the only imperfections I recognize in you are your genetic defects and you're not a fantastic "deep kisser." I'm still working on it though.

17. If you get outraged and horrified and betrayed by my actions, I will still love everything about you. Even if you acknowledge the logic and motivation in my actions, I know you will still despair.

18. I just have to remind myself how much I cried, your love of apathy, and your hatred of grape drank.

19. You are adorable, and as writing this, I wonder if that night we sat talking in my kitchen until 3 AM if you didn't get the album because of him and not me. I enjoy the feeling thinking about that evening, even if I don't remember the details.

20. Part of it is dramamongering and no personal investment, but I wish you'd told off that crazy bitch who stole the perfect chance to go for your man.

21. I wish I was better at making you realize your beauty. It gets hard fighting against your self-deprecation.

22. Please, don't die young.

23. You never kissed me in public, and I still adored you.

24. You know it's fake. I would give anything for you to fall in love with a girl who gives you butterflies, who gets nervous giggles when look at her, and makes you happy beyond anything you knew.

25. Sometimes, I think you want him to be with me. Maybe you just think I'm a cool kid.

26. Thank you for giving me someone to write to. I wish we could be friends.

27. You contributed very much to who I am. I am ashamed by my disgust of your self-destructive choices.

28. You are a perfect father to me. I hope I can be a good daughter.

29. You know me well. It breaks my heart when your actions based in the best of intentions don't mean what you hoped they would.

*30. I am sorry we are not friends. You are amazing, and I try to appreciate you, but making new friends got so much harder after elementary school where a sleepover was an easy token of friendship.

X. You are terrified of people and get jealous over things you have no entitlement to.

Stuff In My Phone

So oddly i miss you? Haha well have to hang out when I get back.
-Nick F.

YAAAAAAAAAYYYAAAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYAYYYYYYYYYYY. The more y's there are the happier I am
-Erik

I'm kinda pretty and pretty kind

I don't drink. I don't smoke. I use soft drugs very infrequently. I don't fuck. I take AP classes. I am on the HiQ team and marching band. I am involved in politics. I am a "student leader." I did well on my SATs. I have never been arrested. I don't drive. I honestly care about the guys I date. I am a feminist. I recycle. I listen to classic rock and NPR. I own vinyl albums. I read the newspaper. I obey and respect my parents. I miss my grandparents. I write and send honest to goodness letters and postcards. I appreciate the things I have and beauty, no matter how hard it is to find. I love reading. I like science and math. I am awesome in history. I appreciate nature.

Good gift to me: Your dick in a box.
Bad gift from me: Your dick in a box.

We were walking in time, but on opposite feet. We were walking together on different streets.

forgot nothing but the feeling

What are the colorful tubes between the "truck" and the "trailer" on an 18 wheeler?
Why do shape mac n' cheeses taste better?

"The Old Regime and the Revolution"

"I bet it's sleazy. I want to read it."
-Mom

I didn't believe in destiny until you told me it was ours.

I want to find my boy writing the dracula rock opera.

I cannot tell you how long your road is, but do not fear the obstacles.

Well you're just a geographical oddity. Two weeks from everywhere.

Course it's Pete. Just look at him. We gotta find some sorta wizard to change him back.

Hrmph

I didn't lie. I just didn't have the willpower to keep it the truth.
This was not out of malice.
It was my decision, based in logic.
I thought it out.
I can imagine how you'd feel.
I don't like it.
It makes me feel guilty.
I still don't regret it.

An Enormous Survey (Stolen from Emily on FB)

Do you think your last ex will eventually want to be with you again?
No, not romantically, but I know he still wants to be friends so long as we give it time.

Where is your phone?
On my left leg.

Are you excited for anything happening in the next week?
Hanging with Dan, Fava, tubing with Molly, tubing with group, senior portraits, dinner with mom, Hi-Q party, and Emily's bonfire.

How are you currently feeling?
Sweaty and fulfilled.

What will you be doing in the next 2 hours?
Regrettably, most likely internet things, if I'm ambitious, reading.

Do you regret anything you've done recently?
Nope. I don't regret anything that happened this year.

If you drank fifteen beers, what would you be doing?
Probably puking my guts up or on the way to the hospital.

Do you think you can last in a relationship for six months?
Not while in high school, but yes.

Who did you talk to on the phone last?
Viv!!! (This will never occur again.)

Do you know what you are going to wear tomorrow?
Possibly the HiQ sweater if bitches get this party figured out.

If you could move somewhere else, would you?
DUH! Adios, Glen Thrills, though you have served me well.

Recently kissed anyone with the name starting with a D?
Nope, but I was half jokingly offered.

Has someone ever made you a promise and broke it?
Haha, all the time. Promises are shit.

What do you always take with you?
The clothes on my body, but it's not guaranteed they'll stay there.

Do you think you'll be married in 5 years?
Goodness, no.

What was the best thing that happened today?
Best thing?! How can I choose?! India Grille, then (500) Days of Summer, with Viv and Erik, then hanging out with Dan G..

Is anything bothering you?
My sleep schedule is a little wacky and summer reading is daunting, but not really.

How many pillows do you sleep with?
One!

When you think of the rainbow, what pops in your head?
Demetri Martin

What is worse, physical or emotional pain?
Emotional, but only because as a female suburbanite, I will probably never suffer much pain.

What color is the shirt you are wearing?
Brown.

What song are you listening to?
She's Got You High by Mumm-Ra (because I stole the 500 Days of Summer OST)

Have you ever fallen asleep while texting someone?
Yeah, I always feel a little bad, but if I'm up that late texting someone, they don't mind.

Has someone put their arm around you in the past 5 days?
Yep.

Are you the type of person who has a new boyfriend/girlfriend every week?
Nah.

Have you ever fallen asleep in someone's arms?
Yes. Isn't it the sweetest?

Who is the last person 18 or under that you were in a car with?
Uh... not Viv or Erik... Jack?

Are you good at hiding your feelings?
Maybe, though I've never had to hide them for long.

Who did you last send a text message to?
Dan G.

Do you feel like life will be easier when you're older, or harder?
Harder, if only because there's a shit load of busy work. Bills suck!

Are you a jealous person?
Nah, bein' an anarcho-communist is all youthful idealism, but I try to live it.

Do you feel comfortable with answering personal questions?
Yep.

Is the last person you kissed more than a year older than you?
Yes.

Are you comfortable with your height?
Absolutely.

Is your room ever clean?
Not at this moment, but yes.

Have you ever walked on the beach at night?
Ah, the stars, or down the boardwalk, the illumination.

Have you ever slept on a couch with someone else?
No, but a hammock is better?

Do you like to take walks?
I don't think I should have to answer this.

Do you think you will be in a relationship three months from now?
I could be, but it matters not.

Would you ever get a tattoo?
Mmhm. I want a line of poetry or literature either on my wrist, ankle, or back neck near the hairline in very small, very fine print.

Can you whistle?
Yes.

Did you have any unread text messages this morning when you woke up?
Haha, if I had woke up this morning, no. As I woke up in the afternoon, yes.

What's your relationship with the person you last texted?
Friend, admirerer

Do you wish someone would call you right now?
No, I get nervous on the phone.

Who have you texted in the last 48 hours?
Jeff, Matt, Erik, Dan, and Jack

What is wrong with you right now?
I have never traveled out of the country.

Which of your friends is the easiest to talk to?
Stasi, by far, all of our conversations can become philosophic without any effort.

Who do you tell the most to?
Jeff probably, except when it concerns Jeff, then probably Stasi

Where is the person you want most?
Not a clue.

How many TRUE best friends do you have?
3 "true" and 3 I could always go to.

Would you rather smile over a lie or cry over the truth?
Smile over the lie. I am only human, allow me illusions.

Do you like anybody right now?
Sorta kinda. No crushes, but general boy longing.

Are any of your career plans pretty definite or up in the air?
Haha, jobs can suck it.

When was the first time you kissed the last person you kissed, where was it?
Thursday, May 7th, on Jimmy's back porch under the stars and moon.

Did you kiss or make out with anyone today?
Nope!

Would you like to put last night on repeat, and live it forever?
Nah. While it was a good night, it was not one of the best.

How old do you think you will be when you finally have kids?
30something

Do you want to cut your hair?
Nope, just a trim and leave it long.

Is there someone you'd like to fix things with?
Hey, Dave and Jimmy! I dedicate this one to you two.

What kind of mood are you in?
Warm and floaty, great day feeling.

Do you like your life as of now?
God, yes. I've loved my life since after AP exams last year.

When you're walking, do you stop to drink?
Only if I have my inconvenient, reusable, open lid water bottle.

Do you believe that if you want something bad enough you'll get it?
Nope.

Have you ever kissed someone in a vehicle?
Same guy, different vehicles, once while trying not to cry.

Ever snuck out of your house?
Haha, it's pretty much the only thing that makes me a badass anymore.

What did you do today?
Woke up, went to India Grille with Viv and Erik. Accidentally met up with Kacey and Matti at Regal to see (500) Days of Summer with them and afore mentioned friends. Had lovely chats with Viv, got dropped off. Biked to Dan G.'s house. Biked back to Garnet Mine to meet up with him, then to Rob's neighborhood where we talked for well on two hours.

Do you like someone right this second?
Nope.

Would you ever betray a friend for personal gain?
In an unanticipated consequence, yes. Never intentionally or with malice.

What was the last thing you ate?
Milk and cookies!

Are you a morning person or a night person?
I haven't "seen" the morning since Stasi and I stayed up.

Do you snore?
When I have a cold or restricted nasal passage for some other reason.

Do you know anyone who has gotten an abortion?
Yes.

Are you talking to anyone while doing this?
Nah.

Do you want a relationship right now?
Kinda sorta. I want a physical relationship

True love or 1 billion bucks?
Gimme the billion bucks. I'll find the guy on my own.

Do you think too much or too little?
Both, depends on the context, usually, too much.

Is there someone who can always make you smile?
Indeedily.

How do you feel about your hair right now?
I'm a motherfucking sexy beast. Thanks long hair.

Do you toss & turn for hours at night or fall right to sleep?
I don't toss and turn, necessarily, but I will lie in bed thinking about things until I get sleepy.

Does the person you like, like you back?
As there are many involved, at least one, yes.

Do you want to see somebody right now?
Duh! Bein' alone and on the internet is boring.

What color are your nails right now?
That whole "natural pink color" thing.

Who was the last person to text you?
Dan G.

Could things possibly get any better?
Yeah, but frankly, things just get different.

Do you get along better with the same sex or opposite?
Opposite sex, unfortunately. I'm not good at keep female friends.

Has anyone said they love you in the last week?
Yes.

Will your next kiss be a mistake?
Haha, probably, but not one I'll regret.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow?
Nope! 9 AM: Senior Portraits.

Do you consider yourself lucky?
Not "luck," but dear goodness, my life has been nothing but blessed.

Are you in a relationship?
Nope.

Who is your favorite person to text?
Probably Jeff, though I don't really like text conversations.

How many times have you been rejected by the opposite sex?
Wasiq, can I count the times I thrown myself upon you, only to be pushed away? But other than my deepest loss, yeah: Matt (freshman homecoming), Dave, and Jimmy.

Can you keep a secret?
Yep!

Have you ever made someone your everything?
Nah, the world is too big for that.

Are you an emotional person?
*sigh* Probably, though I wish so much I wasn't.

Are you a caring person?
Yeah.

Can you make people smile?
I try.

If you like someone do they know?
Nowadays, as soon as I know, they know.

What're some good qualities about yourself?
My smarts, memory, personality, boobs, abs, ass, legs, eyes, hair, arms, waist...

Where do you wish you were?
Haha, freakin' Italy after talking to Dan.

What was your last dream about?
Dave and I had a normal conversation. I dream about him a lot. :P

If you married the last person you texted, what would your last name?
I won't put that here for internet safety reasons, but y'all know what his last name is.

Were you happy when you woke up today?
Yes! I was excited to go to India Grille with Viv and Erik.

To Do List:

Maybe June 19th or 20th, I wrote a letter to myself with a list of things to do this summer. This is that list (italics mean it's completed):

Go on adventures. Read books. Do your summer work. Eat fruit. Climb trees. Keep secrets. Forget. Get drunk. Sing. Swim. Play guitar. Sneak out. Get high. Scream. Explore. Listen. Talk, but not too much. Knit. Hackysack. Learn. Draw. Paint. Photograph. Swing. Dream. Walk. Stargaze. Creek. Laugh. Smile. Watch movies. Build a birdhouse. Garden. Learn to can. Nap. Breathe. Blink. Masturbate. Cry. Be there. Go in hot tubs and pools. Make friends. Kiss. Party. Bike. Picnic. Wait. Volunteer. Write. Teach, but only by accident. Eat break and M&Ms. Get new sexy clothes and socks. Don't get bit by a zombie.* Talk like a pirate. Tell the truth. Spill my own secrets. Make new ones. Study Hi-Q. Pool with Wasiq. Get new albums. Send postcards. Write letters. Make Jello. Get a kiddie pool. Appreciate the hammock. Body surf. Find beach glass. Get ear pierced again. Smell the grass. Bake cookies, cakes, and other assorted baked goods. Firefly with Matt. Catch butterflies. Get over band. Program computers. Hang out with everyone I promised, especially Poofy. Drive. Admire thunderstorms. Jump in puddles. Don't be so scared to jump.** If confronted with it, jump off a high dive. Make wishes. Make love? Discuss philosophy and politics. Read Wiki. Find a "signature scent." Play "Best Day/Worst Day" with Molly and company. Inquire as where to get a fake ID. Finance my pranks. Devise better pranks. Get over Dave. Talk back. Graffiti. Sleep tight. Feel better about the Jimmy situation.

* Ongoing
** Metaphorically as well

Recently

I went to one of Hetty's battle practices today. I had a lot of fun and got to see Dan who I haven't seen since prom for a total of two minutes.

I got creeped on and hit on in a creepy way. The second was flattering.

I was talking to Christian via Facebook chat about my status "...is frustrated with her clitoris," and he determined it is time to get me "layed." That was preceeded by me sharing all of my deepest darkest past that I sorta thought he knew, but he thought I fucked Dave, so apparently not, but whatever, because I told him the straight shimmy, but anway, THAT was followed by him realizing that the solution is to get Dave to fuck me, and then me Facebook chatting Dave, opening with the lines,
Hey
I gotta question
Do you want to fuck?

He said "uh" "not really" "I appreciate the bluntness though i really do"

The rest of the conversation was significantly less awkward, though by then my adrenaline was crashing and I wanted to go to bed. It was scarier than riding the roller coasters I hate. I made Christian psyche me out and I listened to Gonna Fly Now in my head before the chat. Also, I am scared and embarrassed to be near Dave in real life, so that wouldn't have worked, even if I really want it to.

Jeff and I visited Viv tonight. I missed her sooooooo much. She is hilarious and silly and we are probably going to see 500 Days of Summer this week and go tubing. Yo, e'rybody, tubing on Tuesday?

Jeff and I sorta kinda have a thing where we care deeply about each other as friends, but also sorta kinda romantically? But I don't want it to be secret because there's nothing there and not going to be anything and I feel really subversive about it and had a nightmare where I couldn't explain to Gina.

In the birthday present Abby got me, Wreck this Journal, there is a page for criticism. I wrote down one bad thought about everybody. Except Molly, apparently, because there's absolutely nothing I dislike about her except I don't see her all the time. Oh, and we didn't go to California. Take that, hoebag.

I kinda wish my stereotype was slut, rather than dork or nerd, which I assume it currently is. Unfortunately, I think even if I slept around, that it would hard for my good image to be tarnished unless I somehow convinced the nerds to sleep with me too.

Even after every talent and gift I have, I still wish I could sing.

"We are just kings on a chessboard painted pink and blue..."

I don't want to be in a relationship with Matt, I simply don't have the romantic feelings. But, I still want to spend a large portion of my time with him and am, to a reasonable degree, jealous of Brianna because their time together is not sparce and awkward.

I should be playing guitar or mandolin, right now.

You bitches should post things, so I can read things. Or we should just all hang out so you guys have stuff to write about.

I miss Hannah's blog. (But band camp is starting soon!)

I am excited for band camp and being a section leader (but mostly only the title and having a freshman buddy for the second).

10 months without an orgasm.

Uh... yeah. I'll probably hang out with Fava sometime after he gets back from wherever he is, even though I had two other offers to fix the previous problem.

The Anonymity of the City

Jeff and some of his friends from PSU experienced First Friday in Philly last night. There was art and performance art and Jewish art and feeling the thrill of crossing streets and watching diners. I went to LOVE park, saw the Oldenburg clothespin, and the Liberty Bell.

I can't wait to leave here and be somewhere new.

*Sing*

When I say "it's not fair," I mean it's not fair to other people.
I got the 'good' side of unfair.

[I feel pretty]

I feel like I don't have any girls to talk to.
Also, that that is mostly my fault.

[Oh, so pretty]

There are some couples I should refer to as:
"See No Evil" and "Smell No Evil."

[I feel pretty]

I used to collect books of fairy tales and horror stories.

[(and witty and bright)]

There are dried tear drops on this desk I refuse to wipe away.

[and I pity any girl]

I miss singing this with Katie.

[who isn't me]

Until I post this, there will be 300 posts in this blog and 100 in my secret blog.

[tonight.]

"With global travel becoming widespread at that time, cookies made a natural travel companion..."
-Wikipedia article on cookies

"Cookie" is an anglocissmo of a Dutch word. Score!

Today was my only nearly entirely shitty day of the summer.

August 3rd

What can anyone say to make it hurt less, but the memories strong?
I'm so sorry that we're all just children who can't do anything to help.

Elton John & Billy Joel: Face 2 Face

Thursday, Matt, Mr. and Mrs. G., Jackie, Tom H., and I gathered at Matt's to set off for Citizen's Bank Park to tailgate, and eventually, see the two greatest pop piano players in history. While packing for the parking lot experience, I found and appropriated a pogo stick for the wait. We managed to arrive just as a new parking lot was opened, so we got to chill upon the grass of a median. My first attempts at pogosticking resulted in a top score of 3 hops. Tom and Mr. G both tied at 4. We discussed college, the artists at hand, and Matt took a picture of me with my hand on a beer (black mail!). My mom called and, despite my best reasoning, assumed that I was just there with a bunch of kids. Nearing 7 o'clock, we began the trek from our parking spot to the stadium. Tom and Matt both snuck in water bottles, because the security patted their middle section, but not their lowest cargo pockets. Oh well. It was sorta around this time I found out that our seats were on the field. I was stunned and delighted.

There were numerous antics from the fans around us. There was a fabulous man two rows ahead of us with a tongue piercing. There were two old guys cracking jokes with Tom all night. Behind us was a short, irritable woman who screamed at us to "sit the fuck down," even though every single row ahead of us was standing up... To our left, in section 108, there was a man in yellow in the very first row who very animatedly sang every Elton John song, sometimes to his miserable girlfriend. He was hilarious.

I think Billly Joel came out first, but I'm not entirely sure. The entire stadium erupted into cheers. Elton John came out, they bowed, hugged, sat down at pianos, and began playing Face2Face. I have no idea what order the songs were played in. Joel and John played together for maybe five or six songs, then Elton John took the stage solo. His guitarist had a new guitar for every song and a fan inexplicably always blowing his long, scraggly hair like in a Bollywood movie. Rocket Man was, by far, the longest song of the night. His jacket has a sequinned genie/waitress on it, his red, frameless glasses were bedazzled with real diamonds to spell "EJ," and his silver platform shoes had little colorful stars on them. He is quite the showman.

Billy Joel, on the other hand, is a dirty old man. He flexed, took off his jacket, swayed his pelvis, and was possibly the teeniest bit drunk. At one point, he shouted, this next song I'm going to play... doesn't mean shit... it's like... Louie Louie (which made me think of the shrimp). He started the intro to Hound Dog by Elvis Presley, but then started We Didn't Start the Fire. Because it was an extravagent concert, there were visuals flashing overhead to coincide with the lyrics of that particular song. On the line, "England's got a new queen..." they showed Elton John. Maybe halfway through his set, Billy Joel brought out one of his roadies from Chester to "sing a religious song." This old guy, very closely resembling Fat John of the high school's janitors, proceeded to sing "Highway to Hell" rather fantastically. Some of the old people around us who had not paid money to hear AC/DC sat down.

Elton John and Billy Joel came back together to sing. Elton had changed his jacket into one depicting him "Rocket Man," with all manner of glittery shooting stars. They played through some of their bigger hits, ending with Piano Man. During what should've been the last chorus, they stopped singing, and the whole stadium carried it out (mostly in tune!). Getting out of the stadium was a little troublesome, but we were in high spirits and not too eager to face the parking lot traffic. It was an utterly fantastic night. I got home before midnight too, which was nice.

Tom and I sang through most of the songs, Matt through a few.