Quiet in the Grass

PostSecret was excellent this week. There are several people I suspect would send in a secret, and I always hope I'll recognize their handwriting or their fears.

Punctuation has never made me so happy. :]

D&PI is going very well. Bucci is improving my technique. Being in her room, this is the first year I've been consciously aware of the D&PII projects. Kinda makes me wish I'd had extra time to get there. She used me as the example of an art career side tracked by APs, which is almost true, but not quite.

I looked online for the names of the P90x Ab Ripper moves. I found them, and after a little thinking, managed to recall what each one was. Thanks, Was! Going through it sucked, because I felt all full of painful Jell-O after the first three routines. However, after finishing, I felt pretty damn fine. I've also been stretching, which is something I need to get caught up on.

Nominating someone for the memorial scholarship was tough. There are about six girls I wish I could've nominated, and it sucked thinking of a guy who "shows love towards his fellow man." No homo.

I really really really really wish that the brobotics team tore off their sleeves, because Was is jacked! Susan and I nodded in agreement the preponderance of aesthetically pleasing guys on the team, but there are still some others (Cartwright) who are best left with sleeves on.

Though my heart is breaking with rejection, Wasiq politely declined my invitation to prom that I shouted at him from across Doc's room (sad faces ensued). Either way, I'll get to share shirley temples with him in the Drexelbrook Corporate Center, so I can practically pretend. Also, besides that I loved hanging out with Jimmy, prom kinda sucked and post prom was also not super great (except for free Wawa). Right now, my major incentive to go to prom is that my dad is helping to build post prom (d'awww). Oh right, and also the cost, because fuck if I'm paying $75 class dues, dress, shoes, hair, (nails?), to grind on some guy I don't like to some soundtrack that "the prettiest class government" picked out and dance with people that I will effectively not care to see after graduation.

Stairway to Heaven is coming along nicely, though I seriously need some new guitar string. The most difficult part is jumping from bar 5 to D major with pinky on 4 the fourth fret, but the worst sounding part is anything on fret one.

By the end of next weekend, I will have completed 4/27 New Year's Resolutions, with 4 more of the 27 under way. I've decided that I will probably not go through with an additional 3, bringing the total up to 8/24 to be finished soonish. Some of them will have to wait until I'm 18 or it's the summer.

Dear Amanda,

You made my day.

Sincerely,
Chloe

I Didn't Know Gauss was a Unit

"I'm gonna show you guys some fields today."
"To the stadium!"

Physics is pretty sweet, and I think that if there were a liquid body on one of the moon's poles, it would have circular tides. Cartwright says I'd need to figure in the effect of the sun too, but whatever old man.

Monday night into Tuesday, I had a vivid, emotion filled dream. It woke me up, and I was very sad. However, there was some really beautiful architecture in the dream. I walked with Molly down an open brick alley, where the houses were a warm, stucco kind of appearance, very squarish European, lovely sloped sidewalks and enormous trees overshadowing with dappled sunlight. I'd like to draw it sometime, though I think the effect was more emotional because of the dream sense.

I wonder how long it takes a woman to get used to her new surname when she gets married.

Are there SI units for strange quantum mechanics properties? I realized in typing that, I don't know the term used for what a unit is actually applied to. Woah!

I set up a Google Calendar to send me a text reminder every day of three new things I added to my morning routine. It went well.

Today, before all of the terrifying physics innuendo, Cartwright said to the class, "Guys, I'm about to show you something you've never seen before." It took him a few seconds to get the demonstration set up. But while he was doing so, I realized, I'd never seen Cartwright in the that same position. In fact, while most things in my life have become familiar, there is no situation so fully identical that I've seen it before. Everything is new. I wish I could hold this thought when taking a moment for granted. Or someone. Then Cartwright showed us magnets on the overhead.

"Boys take a bath, to get more math
Girls take a shower to get more power."
In reality, it was the boys who were founding the basis of power.

This weekend had a flurry of art amidst three straight days of studying for HiQ. Yesterday, I read Best for the Baby, the romance novel that Kira got as a free gift, along with another free gift! It was very effectively the best way to shut down my brain. But, today it got me remembering about a boy I like, which got me thinking 'bout boys I don't like, which made me conclude: that Dave is a serious ass to me, and I didn't do anything wrong. Also, he's fat and slobby looking.

BULLSH*T

Okay, so let me lay down what kind of bullshit was going on at Championships after the fan bus left:

We beat Haverford by 4 points, "suck it, we're going to states" *high
fives all around* There wasn't really anything they could've
challenged, though we were considering challenging our geography
question (What gulf is Gdansk on? We said Gulf of Gdansk, which is
its current name, but the right answer was Danzig, which is what it
still says in Goode's, so eventually decided not to challenge it, also
based in part because we didn't know what the outcome of the following
would be). Anyways, we're celebrating going to states and generally
being awesome, when Rick informs us that Haverford is challenging our
answer to World History. It was the Frank Lloyd Right House, Falling
Water, and our answer was Falling Waters. BULLSHIT, Haverford. Dirty rats. We figured they wouldn't take the points, but they did. Later,
Mrs. Rock said after that announcement, the look on my face was
priceless, and that she never wants to get me mad at her because I
could beat somebody up. Keep in mind that last year when World
History was challenged, we did not get the subsequent replacement
question, so I was freaking out. They would replace just the one
question, we get four guesses, then it goes to the buzzer, and Penn
Crest had the option to decline to participate. If we got it wrong
and Haverford got it, then they would've taken second and gone to
states. If we got it wrong and Penn Crest got the pick up, we'd have
to go through a whole 'nother tie breaking game. Delightfully, Rick
told us that Penn Crest had declined to step on stage. I was about to
seek 'em out and get on my knees, since they're gods on the buzzer and
know their shit. Anyway, that was unnecessary, because the kids
voluntarily chose to come on stage, since they were all calling
bullshit too, even Ludwig. So we got up there, I wrote down BS on my
notepad. They started reading the question, and within five words we
knew it was opium. Apparently, every single kid on stage got it at
the same time, because we instantaneously let go and were practically
standing up to leave. One of the Haverford kids came over to shake
hands, and we sorta scooted as best we could away from them without
looking super impolite. Ludwig came up to Kevin Day and said he was
glad we got it, because that was bullshit. Quote. He told Rock that
he considers GV his only competition, because nobody else takes it
seriously. They got a near perfect game, including both toss ups,
only missing chemistry (which I got on the pick up point (!!!), only
because Doc told us to look at numbers yesterday, water is densest at
4 degrees Celsius), although they did have to go through a couple
guesses on some other questions. I never would've thought I would
leave that meet mad with Haverford and proud of Penn Crest, who will
probably just be a "not-as-bitter," amiable rival next year. Then, as
we were going to Friendly's, Haverford's bus pulled up right behind us
in the Granite Run Mall parking lot. We were freaking out. Mrs. Rock
was telling the bus driver there was another Friendly's on Route 1.
However, we waited to see where they were going, and they went to the
other side of the building. Paul and I ran to see, and they had gone
to McDonald's. I think the quote regarding that was, "Call the health
inspector, there are rats in McDonald's." Great times at Friendly's.
We got gummi bears. Wasiq asked the waitress we always have to sign
his shirt that our Gov class made up. Kelsey Baumes loved her Wasiq
shirt, and everyone was super impressed. Was also got his shirt
signed by basically everyone who was associated with DCIU. Tom signed
it:
God Bless
Tom McCarthy
and proceeded to inform us it literally means "God bless Tom McCarthy"
quoting "no comma, baby." It had us laughing well over 10 seconds.
Rick was flattered, and said he had to think really hard, because it
was permanent and he wouldn't get another shot. After, seriously, a
minute of deliberation and asking about where Was was going to
college, he wrote,
"Keep answering!
Rick Durante"
We made fun of him all through lunch.

Ode to Boy

I miss you more than Jeff or summer, because they are definitely coming back.
I miss you more than the past, because that's definitely dead and gone.
I miss you more, because I don't know if you'll be in my future.
You don't linger for me anymore,
otherwise I could've said it in person,
otherwise I wouldn't have had to write it.

This wasn't supposed to happen to good kids, not white kids from the 'burbs, not AP scholars with three and a half credits of biology.

If my brother wasn't hit by that car, we never would've happened. I wouldn't have squealed with such delight or smiled always so awkwardly or been so horrid. Trains moan whispers in the night of Beatnic summers, romance up in smoke.

Remember that all over ecstasy? That skin to skin circuit of electric infatuation set on fire like instantaneous lightning. My whole being in your hand on my hand under stars like lunar revolutionaries abysmally falling through space.

I said no to the first and second, but persistence is ever the victor.

Candlelit open window in your hoodie because the night air was too much for my trembling skin. Those visions persist, sin to sin, and I contemplated deep as was possible with those cloudy thoughts. Besides the rippling sensations and altered perception, you had me seeing stars.

Unweaving the Rainbow (Dawkins on Keats on Newton)

Today, I mulled around Wikipedia's "Outline of Knowledge" and was flabbergasted to discover certain things and concepts. Most notably, various meteorlogical phenomena including: false sunrises, moonbows, fogbows, (sea-dogs), sundogs, glories, parhelic circles, frost flowers, rime, hoarfrost,. Durham, NC is famous for moonbows. I've been to that damnable Southern city six times, and never knew to check the sky for a sighting. In a double rainbow, one of the rainbows will have the colors inversed to Vib G. Yor. Rainbows are colorful arcs created in water droplets. Halos are the same thing, but from ice crystals. There might be rainbows on Saturn's moon Titan. Space rainbows, who'da thunk?

Reduce, Reuse, and Recylce isn't just the catchiest way to order those words in a phrase. It's actually the most to least desirable steps to minimizing waste. Mottainai is the Japanese word expressing regret over something not being used to its full potential. It is a sensation I experience often. However, Japanese 7-11s are apparently really awful at considering this idea.


A False Friend doesn't have anything to do with people. It's a literary term. Hypocorism is the fancy word for shortening a name, like "moving picture" to "movie" or "Abraham" to "Abe."

B. Frank recommended an early submarine use "foxfire" or glowing fungus to light the underseas vessel.

Also, abstruse goose is like xkcd, but not quite as funny or developed (as far as I've yet read), but a little more mathy and a lot more self-aware.

Unrelated note: in Tiny Dancer, I thought the line was, "Jesus frees out in the streets." It was somewhat tragic to think, and even more so to realize that is not the line at all.

Hotties from Sales

At robotics, there's this particular teammate named Frank from Sales. It is also of note that I find him particularly attractive, though, alas, circumstance has prevented meaningful interaction. In a series of events that continued to not lead to meaningful interaction, today, I had the opportunity to observe the robot being strung up with all manner of electrical wire by Noah and Lauren. In the midst of this careful learning activity, Frank came over, presumably to "do work" or some such related action. Positioning himself between the robot and my innocent observations, he proceeded to bend over and muddle with something or other. Yet, it was not the responsible "bend the knees" bend over, it was a "stick your ass out" bend over. My despicable self, a notorious checker-outer of the male derriere, had to turn away stifling giggles. Arguably, if I was staying over night at any of the trips, I would put a reasonable degree of effort into getting to know him, establishing a playful camaraderie, and violently pushing the rumor that I'm easy and/or give good bjs. Perhaps most tragic, I'm unaware if he has a girlfriend or not. It's my assumption that he's single. But if not, I'd drop it even though he's hot, because I'm an ethical ho'. Actually, I wouldn't necessarily classify him as hot, but definitely appealing to my aesthetic sensibilities.

Verse is my Vice

If you want to read an article that describes the real life existence of "squid with people teeth" and "tentacle faced digbeasts," sleep with the lights on.

Little brother, I worry sometimes. These late nights, you're so alive.

Sculpture of words and whispers.

The "Spend Nothing Game.." Like the "Quiet Game," but for adults and more fulfilling.

I dream about the summer, but cannot tell if it's the past or future.

Reflecting on infinity, I insisted it was a definitive number when I was little. My dad tried to break this notion by reminding me "you could always add another one."

Damn your beauty. I have only been alive for 16 Mays, 17 summers.

Delirium brings me closer to you and to orgasm. My fantasies are vivid.

Mmm... Bacon... *aughargle* Empiricism. *mmm*

In the Midnight Hour

I hate songs in drop D, because they're so rockin', and I don't want to spend the time or effort to tune down. Same goes for half-step down, or anything written by Brand New or Dashboard Confessional. This revelation is specifically spurred by a sincere desire to tear up "Savior" by Rise Against. What I'd envision is myself on guitar, singing the first half of the chorus, and a guy the second half (maybe playing drums), with variable refrain and verse.

Today, I got four shots of novacaine. When they told me to rinse my mouth out, I slurred and stumbled something akin to, "This is going to be an embarrassment." Through sheer luck, I twice managed to not leak fluids all over myself and the office floor. However, eating lunch must not have been pleasant for accidental spectators.

-------------

Occasion’ly, the languid thought
Drifts sleepy through my mind,
"If maybe human progress is a Babylon in kind."
Foundations build on axioms and mathematic proof
Ascended by technology to sweeping, gabled roof.
The peak of this achievement
In some future dappled dawn,
May not to be to reach a god,
But make one all our own.

----------

Hey, SADD, get the fuck on a coffeehouse will you?

Even so much as a year ago, I doubt I would've considered guitar to ever be an important part of my life. However, I give it a pretty good deal of my time now.

Past Passed

When I was little, growing up meant a lot more ice cream, a lot less rules, and no bedtime.

This evening was spent in the company of horrendously immature babblers, falling over themselves to correct each others' knowledgeable, irrelevant professions.

"He could've handled that better." AP Gov is one of the most entertaining, enlightening classes I've ever had the pleasure to experience. Strange, that there have been more original ideas and witty statements flung out in this class than in English. I am besides myself with gratefulness.

"Let me become acutely aware of all I've taken for granted."
-Sylvia Plath, one of the very few interesting things of hers I've read

Between school and now, with robotics in between, I managed to complete 7 of the 9 homework assignments written on my hand and both visual and verbal expressions of what my first real orgasm felt like.

I've been practicing hacky-sacking. I don't know what the verb is, much like I do not know the term for one who plays the accordion (more like discordian! Ayo!)

If PSSAs were to start all over again tomorrow, I'd be reduced to passing notes across the middle person to Kira. Those few hours were so much fun, like one great big Breakfast Club detention. I wish there was something to apologize for, so I could maybe have some more moments like that. Mostly, I'd be apologizing for getting older.

MOEbotics and Generalties

Animation team is fairly caput and could be relegated to meeting only when Ms. Pensak is going to be there. I don't feel like a part of the team, and wish I didn't have to go to meetings or regionals.

"I can make you happy. Or disappear for a while."

After HiQ practice before semifinals, I stepped out afterward and stopped at my locker. Nevermind. I sometimes forget who reads this blag.

Nobody listens to their damnable lyrics. I hate the teeny-boppers who swear by their pop and have no idea what "Semi-Charmed Life" is about. "What do you mean, Chloe? Surely, the song is not about blowjobs and crystal meth as you speak?!"

I consider myself a sexual creature, desirous of pleasure, given and received. Secrets sworn to myself, "Never fake it! It only propigates that women deserve less!" Sadly, the female orgasm relies not just on physical sensation, but a state of mind. At a certain point, I just want them to stop. That's if they even get started at all. I've given a (un)fair share of bjs without any demands or even requests for reciprocation.

Doing the Dishes

Quite often, I feel sexiest doing the dishes. It's a 1950s nostalgic kind of feminine sexy. Congratulations, society, on associating feminine roles with sex appeal! It also reminds me of the scene from Catch Me If You Can where the mother is doing the dishes, then the father pulls her away to dance.

Today, however, our heater broke as my brother was doing the dishes. At first, we didn't realize that was the issue, so we kept talking and listening to music. Eventually, I set to doing the dishes with the still warm pot of water, cold water rinses. We sang together. It's the first time in kinda a while.

Scientia sine arte nihil est

I don't know whose hand hung Hesperus in the sky, and fixed the Dog Star, and scattered the shining dust of Heaven, and fired the sun, and froze the darkness between the lonely worlds that spin in space.
-- Gerald Kersh

Every so often, Science-Fiction and abstract reasoning call me with a largeness I cannot comprehend, let alone quantify. What is the universe made of? How am I, a bunch of atoms, capable of studying other atoms? Does time exist if nothing is happening to mark its passage? I assume there are a finite number of protons in this world? Can they be broken up? Have we lost any? Do we have an inkling of how many there are? Can the universe have weight? It has mass and a lot of vacuum, but is there gravity acting outside of it? What about the gravity acting inside of it? What is the universe expanding into? The speed of light is dependent on the medium, and I always considered that a vacuum was not a medium, but I guess it is. Traveling through nothing means you can go a lot faster. If there was an infinitely long, frictionless path, arbitrarily in the -y with gravity acting on it, would, theoretically, an object fall long enough to turn into light? Right now, I'm sitting where I once cried on the floor wrapped up in your arms. How can I explain my thoughts? Why do they exist? How does existence, atoms of molecules of compounds of cells of tissue of organs of a body, somehow produce a being capable of thought? How does this physical form manage to function long enough to grow old enough to appreciate the life it was given? to fall innocently in love?

My Day/Two Days

My Day:
Almost had a solo orgasm in the wee hours of the morning
Represented HiQ, a lucky break of guesses and questions from my section had me lookin' outstanding on stage
Mrs. Bucci spontaneously told me that I had the potential for a career in art
"Surly, Apathetic Teenager Compares Herself to Bear Riding Bus" got an Honorable Mention in the PhilWP
Animation Instructor titled me as her Head Animator and Right Hand Lady when she debuted our terrifying animated short for the rest of MOE
As the bronze heart charm necklace lay nestled on my bosom, I appreciated my body and the boys who have loved it

Two Days (the twins):
HiQ meet today was spectacular. A number of the questions were ones that we had specifically gone over and over and over and had become near jokes at that point. Highlights included three pulled-from-my-ass saves, pointing to Wasiq in saying, "Sheikh Jarrah," Kevin Day being adorable, hands shaking as he buzzed in a toss up question, him and James being acknolwedged as twins by Radnor's advisor, Strath Haven kids getting directions to Concord Pike Pizza, setting us on a Holy Mission to destroy Penncrest, and generally enjoying the free Aquapods provided by our reception.

Two Days (numerical calendar days until another memory passes):
HiQ Championships! The last home meet of my senior year means the last home meet ever. After Penncrest, my sweater will have lost its functionality as a symbol of something it is, and become something that was. Four years: untold meet hours, studying hours, Friendly's Hours, talking about it hours, Rock Band party hours. Next Tuesday, I have Mrs. Rock for Macro, Gov, HiQ ENH, and after school. I see her more than either of my parents. HiQ has been more than some academic competition or something to pass the time, and its time is about to pass.

"Girl, I want to lay you down by the fire with a bowl of popcorn and watch some Fresh Prince reruns."

Educa-shun

AP Gov is one of my favorite classes. It's probably because of Mrs. Rock and the class discussions and the preponderance of intellectually and visually stimulating guys in the class. Admittedly, there has only been one test for us to fail thus far, but I am indifferent to my grades. That apathy is not a result of impending senioritis. It's been my work ethic since sophomore year. Strangely enough, this entire year has actually brought a clarification of learning. All of my classes are engaging. It's almost frightening. Up until recently, I've attributed this interest to the fact nearly all of the classes I'm taking present new material. Literature finally broached some serious analysis, in limited content. Psych was a phenomenal classroom experience besides the entire field of information I'd never been academically exposed to. Even Topics and Color & 2D held my focus and deserved some degree of effort. Now, economics is rousing and relevant and there's lots of candy. Gov is surprisingly contentious, and no one is hesitant to voice a view in opposition to Mrs. Rock. Even in the short time, Drawing & Painting has improved my skills. Physics feels entirely new, and I'm wonderfully engaged. While the majority of these classes had no previous knowledge base for me, I wonder if maybe I simply never took advantage of the amazing curriculum at GV before. Perhaps these new revelations are not a result of new learning, but a new perspective that I unconsciously assumed. Also, my teachers are kick ass this year.

Odd Thoughts:

If someone were to get freaky with identical twins one night, and get pregnant from the galavantings, there would no way to tell who the father was. Similarly, if a set of identical male twins married a set of identical female twins, the children from the resulting pairings would genetically be siblings.

Memories aka Stories

Spring:
Obama rally
Won 3rd place highest individual scorer at Villanova's trash-bowl as a freshman
Met Ken Jennings
Bear wrestling for the first time
Badminton Accident, mom found my hickey
Sexually harassed Downingtown tenor kid
Swimming in the Brandywine with Abby and Trisha in our shirts and underwear
Trisha and I wearing pirate hats during Steve's solo
Being a zombie in "Pride and Prejudice"
The filming of "Quake"
Dress shopping with Stasi
Coffee house
Ran through the rain holding hands
Walked from school to Matt's house after HiQ
Job shadowed an anarchist bookstore
Disneyworld, seeing my mom cry for the first time
Apples to Apples game where Erik and Gina were cheating and we didn't catch on, even when "baby showers" beat "super guiro" for the "Sexy" card
Brave New Voices Slam Poetry finals
Strenth and Conditioning with Wasiq
HiQ States
HiQ Rock Band Party: All expert instruments for "Any Way You Want It"
Wasiq and Amora dueting in another HiQ Rock Band Party
Pit Video Game: Level One
Attempting to dye my hair with Jell-O, because we didn't have Kool-Aid
Emily's Birthday Party, Coffee Station, lead singer of Fall Out Boy
Garnet Valley Nature Club aka One of My Favorite Field Trips
TIA Championships: finding four leaf clover
Wildwood, year one, first time seeing SNL, terribly impressed with music, perfect seats, swimming, failed and wheezy donut run
Wildwood, year two, dissatisfied with music, only one to swim
Wildwood, year three, swimming and running away, vindicated Donut Run, even if it was closed
Casino adventure with fancy Shirley Temple

Summer:
Gone down the Brandywine on an inflatable whale
Parasailing
Cried a single tear during UP, both times I saw it
Prom, watching Rob bundle a crate of Tasty Kakes to his car
Cossart Road, first time with Viv in torrential downpour
Skinny dipping at dawn in the ocean
Screamed into the wind, "baring my soul (and my titties)"
Drunk bus!
Buy pot from a Jamaican who called Stasi sexy
Hugged a guy in a Mr. Peanut suit
Basically everything about that week with Katie
Bollywood Movie Party!
Dorney Park, traffic back up, gettin' creeped on, boys missing roller coaster for talking math
Went to a West Chester Music in Motion Show
Snuck into a DCI show
Missed our flight home because dad misread AM for PM
Ran (walked) through a corn-field under the full moon
Steve and me: Pirate Adventure!
Merry dozen of princesses visit Tom H.
Fourth of July, skinny dipping/streaking
Steph's Grad Party
Rocky Horror Picture Show Party "Do you have anything that doesn't taste like make up."
-I won a penis shaped lollipop
Geohashing, also dressed like a pirate
First Friday in Philly
LARPing
First time a boy told me they loved me was in a hammock
Belted out "Amazed" at 3 AM
Scavenger Hunt
Snuck out to watch the Perseid Meteor Shower, got stopped by cops
12 mile suburban hike
Truth or Dare at Abby's Birthday
Snuck into Religilous
blink-182 concert, met blink-182, they signed my underwear, drunk man grabbed me
Viv tells scary stories, we catch fireflies
Getting a balloon at the West Chester Diner
Having pancakes and sex toys with Emily
HiQ MarioKart party
Circle Time

Fall:
Hallelujah, Ben Folds, & The Freshmen
Witnessed "The Battle of the D." West Chester and UD played each other
Cossart Road, getting chased
Orgasm at the Grist Mill
Unrelatedly, had a long conversation with Pat and Taylor at the Grist Mill
Flying to Duke, feeling alive, impressing security personnel with my shoes
Walked from the school to Molly's house, looked at the tree graffiti
Noopur's Birthday Party where we danced like white girls and played capture the flag
Noopur's Birthday where Lexie's baby turned on at 3 in the morning
Hayride with Matt, Gary, Kate, and Hannah
"Make a hole!"
The Cricket
Dressed like a pirate at Longwood
Sarah's 16th Birthday Party
Gluing Viv's sister's leg shut in a parking lot in Chester
Viv made the most beautiful cupcakes, then we watched the best episode of [H]ouse since the first season
First Pit Party
Epic "Bottle Cap War"
"Second Degree Burns" Party

Winter:
"Fuck Shoes" Party, Jeff sets his on fire
"Ice in the D.'s Yard" party
Laser tag at the Laser Dome
Hot Tub party where the boys hair froze
Going to Old Country Buffet after that drumline show
GV goes to States, "HERSHEY!"
"HERSHEY" on the hill <-- possibly my proudest moment
Scrumptious course chocolate dinner
"Not last!" First!
Gave road head
Coffee house
Late night Tom Jones
Dresden Dolls concert
Sarah getting us pirate costumes for the first band concert
Saw Precious in a theater full of black people
Watching [H]ouse: Three Stories and eating left over Christmas cookies with Matt
Lying on the floor of Matt's living room with him and Jeff, listening to "Wait, Wait Don't Tell Me"
Stencil'd a gas station
Cossart Road, walked up to the house and took pictures
Longwood Fireworks show
Staying up to watch the first sunrise of '09
(really not) Sexy shower party/streaking
Meghan's Diner after the inauguration ceremony "Keep the change we can believe in"
Little brother hit by car
Matt teaching me my first riff on guitar
Father Deer Hands

Man, Imma go take a nap. I'll edit this later.

Athazagoraphobia

"Don't let yesterday take up too much of today." The first time I saw this sign, it read, "If I act like somebody else, who will be me?" Driving around last night with the windows open and music blasting, my thoughts were bouncing between then and now. The days I walked out there. The nights I wished I was walking.

It's snowing again.

Besides the sunlight, I miss walking.

"So here is the point of everything I have been trying to say. If I were to give a brace to you, now, I would measure your wrist twice." I would like to reread Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close. It would remind me of Viv and Jeff and the summertime. I would like to pour out my soul in touch tone. 696664746734222446464774377668247434776653263426769688641

"Stalin found out about the community and sent his thugs in, just a few days before I got there, to break all of their arms! That was worse than killing them! It was a horrible sight, Oskar: their arms in crude splints, straight in front of them like zombies! They couldn't feed themselves, because they couldn't get their hands to their mouths! So you know what they did!"
"They starved?"
"They fed each other! That's the difference between heaven and hell! In hell we starve! In heaven we feed each other!"
"I don't believe in the afterlife."
"Neither do I, but I believe in the story."

So Pleased with a Daydream

I've been playing Bright Eyes again. Playing a lot of guitar in general. I've added another couple bar chords to memory and more party songs to my repetoire. The songs of my own composition haven't been very coherent as of late. But then again, I haven't had time or inspiration.

After submitting the FAFSA, I got an expected EFC of 20. That number alone is completely out of context, so I looked up the scaling. Lower is better. The minimum is a reasonable 0, and there is no determined max, only that a score of 4000 is the upper-most cut off for a Pell grant.

Whenever considering a college, the motto is, "Don't let cost limit your options!" I'm not sure what idiot is telling kids that, but cost was pretty much my number one consideration in applying. Therefore, my applications were sent out to two schools. Temple, because it is my number one; and Penn State, because it was determined fairly late that I probably should have a number two. I heard from Temple two weeks ago and am still waiting to see if I got into the Honor's Program. PSU got back to me today, and UP is no longer accepting students. While a blow to my pride, I defer the decision as being because of my late application and tell myself, "I'm wouldn't have gone to middle of nowhere, PA, with classes as big as my whole high school, and a student population where 20% of them binge drink every week." The problem of drinking is so bad at the #1 Party School, that This American Life did a terrifying show about it. My parents are excited I'm going anywhere. First generation college kid! Rural PA can suck racist dick! I'm going to North Philly.

Twice in my life, I've had to leave a guy just as the sun was coming around. Unfortunately, on the most beautiful evening, when Stasi and I stayed up well into the morning to watch the sun rise over the Atlantic, it was a rainy day and a stunningly fabulous experience.

Grudgingly frustrated as I am to be in band, I'm glad it's with the freshmen and Kate.

"The arc of time, the stench of sex
The innocence you can't protect"

Today was not a good day.

xkcd was very good today.

I just helped pierce my brother's ear.
It was unnerving.

I'm achy.

Making My Way to Normal (Illinois)

For every time I've listened to "Like a Rolling Stone," I've never considered how it does feel. To find out he really wasn't where it's at. It's a harsh song. Not nearly so bad as "Idiot Wind," (nod to Nicki), but that little Jewish boy really knew how to make it sting.

"it was gravity which pulled us down and destiny which broke us apart."

Recently re-downloading Ben Folds from a scratched gold disc with Sharpie on it, I remembered singing "Brick" on the band bus. Remembered singing maliciously at Trisha as she sat outside Sarah's house. Remembered climbing trees in Matt's backyard, thinking, "you took a trip, and climbed a tree..." from "Not the Same," something I've become. Landed reminds me of a Klaus Oldenberg sculpture. Quietly singing "Bitches Ain't Shit" in the business district of NYC, scared we were going to get beat up by black people. Zak and Sara. Fred Jones, "how do we know his first name???" Adelaide's no longer a place to go to forget, it's more painful remembering. We screamed Army on the way to Wildwood. We screamed everything down there. Still, We was a different bunch of people.

"3. 2. 1. I'm letting you go."

I wonder, if at any given moment, more people are singing or crying. Or maybe both?

Making lists is super entertaining.

In the current draft of "Get the F out of GV: Things to Take to College," there are ~150 things I've got listed, though no specifics on clothing yet.

I'd like to familiarize myself with Philly over the summer, so I feel more comfortable once school starts. Viv and I can have sleep overs whenever we want.

SNOW SNOW SNOW

LEGOs outnumber people 62:1

"Guns don't kill people. Bullets do."

Triple Lasser Wednesday, comin' up.

Sarah Vowell does not possess a pleasant voice. Though, it is very peculiar. Despite this, her radio address and essay in the Bedford reader, "Shooting Dad" makes me tear up. Her diction is well chosen, and her tone is straightforward. "But I will not cover my ears... I want it to hurt."

Bleh

Returning from MOE and talking about the senior prank planned for that night, Noah and I got to discussing my past relationships. It was interesting to share with someone who's aware of the characters, but has never heard the stories. I was so close to being bold and asking him the question boggling Anna and me, but alas, I couldn't do it.

Hunting around f.y.e., Nick F., Amanda H., and I found "Nights of 1,000 Cats," the greatest horror movie ever bought for $1.97.

I've been putting up messages in the stalls again. But whenever I remember to bring my marker, I've already got something written down. I'd like to do a big piece.

In bringing in my fuzzy diary to be used as a physics diary, I was prompted to reread all of my entries, spanning back to middle school. Surprisingly coherent, it documented crushes on nearly every single guy I've liked to 8th grade.

I'm disappointed with Wolfmother's "Cosmic Egg." Their first LP had a distinct, rough electric feeling for each of the singles. The most recent release is fairly homogenous across the whole album, though in a similar, duller sound.

My writing used to be way better.

Kate and I went sledding today.

It feels impossible to update on "my life," because there is no time for anything to happen. dfHellotg. That last bit was typed by my cat before he turned on CAPS LOCK and "Caret Browsing."

Superbowl commercials suck this year and are all for CBS shows. Except the Green Police commercial that just happened. Taco Bell commercial loses the game. Doritos get it back on track.

Dan and I biked to Build a Dream Playground Friday before the snow. It's always interesting to catch up on each others' lives, since we so infrequently have time for hanging out. I saw Brianna F. just outside Hetty's neighborhood as I was riding back home.

I have to return a letter in response to Hetty's postcard.

HiQ: STUDY STUDY STUDY STUDY STUDY
It's my senior year, and I want to go to States again, not just Championships.

I'm learning so much second semester of senior year. HO' CARP.

Every so often, when I'm feeling a little blue, I think, "I have a song written about me." By that statement, I've done something right, or something worth a revenge song.

Things that Irritate Me

By looking through the list of 501 (a) class "charitable organizations" with the word church in their titles, there are 491 tax-exempt churches in Philadelphia alone. [editor's note: I used my discretion to include the churches that were listed in "Philiadelphia," "Philedelphia," and "Philladelphia."] I think it's absolutely reasonable to continue extending this exemption to churches that actively provide services to the community. Still, it's also reasonable to start a nominal tax rate for those organizations simply spreading the word of gods.
[Side note: churches are not explicitly defined by the IRS, but refer to religious establishments of any creed. It does not include schools or separate business run by churches.]

I dislike the practice of those who can only fall asleep while the TV is on.

Photoshopped images of models in magazines should come with a health warning.

All Congressmen, after five years of service (at a base rate of at least $174,000 a year), receive lifetime fringe benefits, including a pension and healthcare.

Public Transportation in America is widely unailable and inefficient, though increased usage would annually decrease environmental emissions 11,450 pounds of carbon dioxide for just one standard sedan off the road. This availability would also decrease incidents of fatal alcohol-related traffic deaths, in which drunk drivers are responsible for 12.8% of all fatal crashes in the US.

It's really hard to judge how many chips constitute one serving, because the serving size is usually measured in ounces.

Allowing unlimited campaign spending for corporations is one of the scariest things that has happened in modern politics. Corporations are not people, are not allowed the same rights to free speech as citizens, and generally are not the best interest of public welfare. In the words of the great social commentator, Stephen T. Colbert, "A corporation is just like a person. They do everything people do, except breathe, die, and go to jail for dumping 1.3 million pounds of PCBs into the Hudson River.”

Equality of Opportunity is a key component to defining the American ideal; I understand this and support the concept infinitely. However, in the aftermath of slavery and the lingering hostilities, blacks migrated into cities as the white flight was moving white business out and taking their affluence with them. This led to the decline of "inner city" [see: black] schools, which have failed to provide the same standard of education as wealthy suburban schools. While black students would still be the primary beneficiaries of a revised plan, Affirmative Action should be basd on economic disadvantage, rather than race.

GM should've been allowed to fail, and AIG shouldn't have gotten a $170 billion dollar bail out.

People who want to deny terrorists the basic American right to a fair trial. Applying those basic liberties to everyone is the foundation of the Constitution, to give every group, including those from the majority, the extemes, the dissenters, and the undesirables, equality under the law to prevent a tyrannical state.

A government body should not be allowed to determine if someone lives or dies. Capital punishment is not only wasteful in its expense, but in its gross ability for an intangible entity to determine whether someone gets to keep their life.

On that, jueveniles should never be tried as adults, the American prison system is deplorable, and the American legal system is overburdened.

Part of that burden is that the system is clogged with nonviolent drug offenders possessing "soft drugs." Marijuana should be legalized and regulated along the lines of tobacco. I realize that it would be a difficult industry to manage, because nearly anyone can grow it, but the "War on Drugs" is estimated to have cost tax payers over $19 billion dollars in 2009, not including the production cost of wasting the time of the courts that could be better spent otherwise.

Medical Marijuana also makes sense and should be legalized.

The College Board is a non-profit organization that has a $55 million dollar surplus, and their top 41 officers make over $250,000 each.

Cable companies only offer bulk packages. More appealing for consumers, and less profitable to the company, would be to allow the consumer to customize packages to include only the channels they wanted. Besides the convenience, this would create competition among the channels, prompting them to create better shows to capture more viewers to capture more advertising funding.

Professional sports and the money poured into them is absolutely astounding to me.

If a gay citizen wants to serve in the army of the country that won't allow them to marry, they should be able to do so without fear of hiding and demonizing their sexuality.

Gays should be allowed receive the full legal and economic benefits of marriage.

Zero Tolerance laws are demeaning overreactions that prevent a student from getting a quality education and haunt their behavioral transcripts forever.

If people stopped signing up for the army, there wouldn't be anymore war.

"The trouble with her is that she lacks the power of conversation but not the power of speech."
-George Bernard Shaw

With each encounter of literary witticism, whether Shaw, Twain, Shakespeare, or Wilde, I jealously shamed by my own inabilities. Authors must have spectacular friendships and even better rivalries.

He has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary.
-William Faulkner

Poor Faulkner. Does he really think big emotions come from big words?
-Earnest Hemingway

Dreaming of Warmer Climes

"Because of you, the heady perfumes of summer pain me; because of you, I again seek out the signs that precipitate desires: shooting stars, falling objects."
-Pablo Neruda

I asked my dad if he ever remembered his dreams. He said he doesn't dream so much anymore. Back when he was married to my mom, she complained that he laughed in his sleep. The source of his laughter is one of those eternal mysteries.

I’ve thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it.
— Jonathan Safran Foer

Summertime, laughter, dreaming, naps, the Brandywine, shooting stars, stencils, bonfires, grass, smiles, balloons, Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, Viv's away messages, pancakes, fireworks, clementines, acoustic guitar, candlelight, satin sheets, dried flowers, local history museums, bare feet, blonde hair and a sundress, warm breezes, the Gristmill, stained glass, dappled sunlight, idea book, Sharpies, singing, screaming, sneaking out, lemonade, cloud watching, God rays, monkey balls, Bright Eyes, free stuff, my necklace, songwriting, hammocks, little birds, cats, homegrown, gardening, farmer's markets, smokey whispers, apples, hayrides, barns, running through a cornfield, windchimes in harmony, holding hands, crazy socks, M&Ms

"things are so easily lost. things just can't be kept forever."
-Bukowski

At one point, JT K. lived down the road from me. He was out skateboarding in the funeral home parking lot, and I invited him to have lemonade with me. We talked for a bit, sitting on the top of my picnic table. I'm sure he doesn't remember it.

"The charm of the past is that it is the past."
-Oscar Wilde

Just for Sharing

• Lawyer: "Doctor, before you performed the autopsy, did you check for a pulse?"
• Witness: "No."
• Lawyer: "Did you check for blood pressure?"
• Witness: "No."
• Lawyer: "Did you check for breathing?"
• Witness: "No."
• Lawyer: "So, then it is possible that the patient was alive when you began the autopsy?"
• Witness: "No."
• Lawyer: "How can you be so sure, Doctor?"
• Witness: "Because his brain was sitting on my desk in a jar."
• Lawyer: "But could the patient have still been alive nevertheless?"
• Witness: "Yes, it is possible that he could have been alive and practicing law somewhere."

P.S. I have never seen a baby squirrel.

"Respect must be there in order for love to grow. One cannot love someone or something one disrespects or hates, or is unable to communicate with."
-Simple English Wikipedia on Love

I'm a failed communicator. Though I write, though I speak eloquently when required, I am crass and offensive. I do not make efforts to extend myself to others, partly for ignorance, partly for contentment with myself. How do I initiate conversation? How do I maintain it, or better yet, discover it in new people? There are only a few people who have ever been worth deep conversation with. Some, I speak to occasionally, forgiven my lack of correspondence due to external circumstance. Others, I am at fault, and striving to recreate those connections.


"Once freedom has exploded in the soul of man, the gods no longer have any power over him"

Hotcakes, Griddlecakes, Pancakes, and Flap Jacks

"How on earth are you ever going to explain in terms of chemistry and physics so important a biological phenomenon as first love?"

After enhancement, on my way to lunch, I stopped by Cartwright's room to put my binder in his class for fourth period. Unfortunately, Dave was already there, sitting in my seat, so I elected to delegate this action to Wasiq. Cartwright is the third teacher to compare me to my former heartache, though I'm the version for dummies without any of the "cool." It's a shame I freeze up when I see him, but I don't believe we could manage an aquaintanceship, much less on friendly terms. If not first love, can second love be explained in terms of science? At what point will cynicism guide me to accept that love is a bunch of hormones and social conditioning. It's not yet, and please, not in my youth. Jimmy is certainly intelligent beyond any standard of norm, kind, a comedic genius, and talented in his aspirations. I feel evil looking back on my treatment of him, which I don't think he would want me to do, but regardless. To defend myself, I was scared and hesistant and utterly unexcuseable. There was no way I would let myself fall in love with him, despite the laughter and romance. Now, I'm all a waste of blue M&Ms, but still grateful.

"There are four words to describe flat discs of cooked batter, but only one word for love."

I've been aching, physically and otherwise. It's a very specific kind of hurt. I don't sleep well, and I don't eat well, and I don't see people. Excepting the 6 hours of sleep I get each night, I have been home and conscious for ~25 hours this week, and will be home for another 10 hours this weekend. There is hardly time for talking, let alone hanging out with people. I miss everyone.

I am the GV anomaly. I've had my license but not a car at all to drive. One some level, I am a fraction grateful I do not have to face my fear. My family has bad luck with cars:
Dad- osteoarthritis and aggravated back pain because of an accident
Mom- job loss and recurring leg injury because of accident
Uncle Chris- died in mysterious crash in his Toyota two years ago
Me- hit by car as small child
Jack- hit be car as adolescent

I feel ignorant to reality, but I mean well.
Good intentions, nothing but good intentions and honesty...

Two Lost Souls

I'm a leech at photo club.
I'm a girl (see: idiot) at HiQ.
I'm not good at science or math at robotics.
I'm politically backwards in Gov.
I'm uniformed, irresponsible, and permissive in Speak Up.
I'm a pariah at band.
I'm lazy and incompetent at school.
I'm a whorish drug user on my free time.


I'm a lot of people's ex-friend, so don't worry about it.
I've gotten used to this.

Dismal Science? More like the Jizz-mal Science

What was our Macro homework?

For tonight or the one i was doing in the library? Cuz there isnt any for tonight...so ill assume u want the library one...and that is...questions 2,6,7,9,10

Nope, already turned that one in. Thanks, Was! I think it'd be a good study application if I came over and studied how to satisfy your unlimited wants sometime.

Hahahaha. Well technically that wouldn't be studying economics,would it? I mean last time i checked u didnt possess scarce resources...so ud be fulfilling

Haha, you're making it sound like a dismal science! We've both only got limited time and we should allocate it efficiently.

Good idea. I say i start at the bottom of ur production possibilities curve for a bit...and work my way up top.

my unlimited wants with..ur unlimited resources? Dayummmm. ;)

:] But you've got to be running at full production to satisfy those needs. Luckily, the only opportunity cost is missing out testing your elastic bed springs.

Hahah. Damn. Im outta ideas. Nice one.

The Giver/Receiver

"I love you to outter space! Outter space goes upupupupup!"
-Overheard in NY

Friday into Saturday was an excellent time, and perhaps the most absurd twenty-four hours of my life. I completed the first resolution of my list, to go streaking, as well as a number of other firsts, including eating uncooked ramen, which was nasty. After returning home to my mom's, I watched Forrest Gump for the first time, a resolution from the previous year I never got around to completing. Certainly entertaining, but a mystery as to why it's famous, I reflected through a majority of the film. I considered all the boys I'd loved, the hands I've held, and the disparity between the two. Before Friday, I didn't know what to do about a hook up buddy. I assumed I'd feel guilty. Instead, I wound up appreciating the past even more, pink scars, the way our hair contrasted, harmonic wind chimes, and the differences between every other time I'd snuck out. I'm young, and there's a whole lot I haven't experienced, several experiences I don't even know exist yet. There's a point in the future where it's more difficult to make mistakes. For now, I'm learning.

Newton's Third Law: F- Society on Girl (Girl Pushes Back)

I used to giggle and turn away when he made eye contact with me.
Now there is just turning away.
What a shame.

"Women's virtue is man's greatest invention."
There is a certain sadness to sexual enlightenment. My body is a biological miracle, to maintain functioning for more than a minute, let alone seventeen years. Fantastic and horrendous visions from my imagination can never match the awe of human contact or the ecstatic pleasure derived in processes I do not understand from single cells working together to create some intangible heaven I cannot express.

"Rose is a rose is a rose." Human beings do not live by that simplistic mantra of simplistic existence. A body is not a body, and a body touching another body is a completely different matter entirely. For a girls, it seems simple enough to give pleasure and accept pleasure. In modern society, it's difficult for a man to restrain a woman from using her body as she sees fit. To do so would be illegal, ignoble, and nothing any modern woman would stand for. And yet, this patriarchal ideal of virtue has been so long ingrained, that women turn against each other. Women hold each other to inhumane standards of moral purity, resulting in a choice between satiating a physical, biological desire, or preventing pariah status. Even after liberation, there is social stigma in the words "slut" and "whore." We've set in place bureaucratic rules of restraint and silly head games that prevent any straightforward interactions between men and women. I still complicate things for myself by reverting back to this mundane system. If something is as straightforward as "it feels good and I am kind," I subject myself to moral interrogation. I do not allow myself to contentedly accept well-being and happiness.

TAL #374: Somewhere Out There

There isn't just one special person for everyone. If things don't work out with my current interest, I'll just find another. There's probably 10,000 people out there I could fall blissfully, eternally in love with. It's a small number, in comparison to the 6.5 billion other human beings on this planet. Still, from the other side, no man will ever need me. There's not much I have to offer, in terms of uniqueness. Every other woman on the planet has a body, quite a few speak English and are in the right age group. Even of those women, a lot of them are pretty smart, pretty funny, or regular ol' pretty. If things don't work out, there's nothing to lose but me, and I'm replaceable. In memories of a shared past, there's no substitute. But for the future, it could be anyone.

I'm No Hero and You're No Beauty

Like fraternal sons of New Jersey, The Gaslight Anthem is all nostalgic rivers and road trip spirits. Listening to either Springsteen or these Jersey punk rockers makes me dream of summertime and being alive. Even though I'll legally be an adult, this summer is a last vestige of childhood, getting in the last of the not gottens. Though swearing to it now will have no use, I vow to never waste wakefulness, except in the hammock and under the stars. There are stories waiting to be made in that still-warm nighttime.

Never Have I Ever

After robotics today, there was a party at an alum's house. Besides the road there being very circuitous, and the ride back being even worse, it was an entirely enjoyable evening. Actually, even the car rides were really fun with Matt and Trisha. Tim's (the alum) basement was perfect for parties, minus a strobe light. He had surround sound stereo, at least six black lights, two ceiling mount disco ball lights, foosball, ping pong, air hockey, and two of those giant work out balls that really don't make any sense except to be awesome and take up space. His mom made us a real dinner, with teriyaki steak, ham, potatoes, broccoli, corn, carrots, and orange slices. Upstairs was Wii MarkioKart and Mario SmashBrothers. As the party wound down, we got to playing Never Have I Ever, count down from ten. I lost the game. Not by a very large margin, but none the less. Unless it has to do with alcohol, travel, certain exotic activies, or going to restaurants, I pretty much corner the market on lewd, illicit, and generally adventurous activities.

So No More We'll Go a-Roving

"object with infinite volume but finite surface area"
I wonder how long this can stay in my search browser.
I think I look prettier after I've cried.
I am so blessed.

If you had asked, I would've said "no."

College

Instead of applications and following them on the internet and having that fail miserably, I would much rather it be determined by a massive obstacle course or battle of wits or talent show or combination of all of them.

Relativity of Simultaneity

"I always knew looking back on my tears would bring me laughter, but I never knew looking back on my laughter would make me cry."
— Cat Stevens

I currently have the second most popular story from the last month on onesentence.org. However, without ill will, I still voted up the most popular. I've been thinking a lot about time. How according to the concept of relativity of simultaneity, things in different places cannot never occur definitively at the same time. Even so, we're all dying at exactly the same rate, some of us are just closer to the end.

Today, the English prompt was, "If you could forget any moment from high school, which would it be?" I spoke an exact date, but would not inform the class what happened. It gave me an air of mystery, but I didn't mean it. I hope I will not forget the day.

F*CK THIS SH*T

I censor myself. I hate the action when perpetrated by others, even more so when I do it to myself. Consider the audience and their easily offended sensibilities, the lurkers and the ones who may stumble over treacherous statements. Of course, there is perfectly good rational and reason for censorship. Action is more fun than talking them.

Weekend and Weak Start

"I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more."

Saturday night was fun. Carley, Jeff, and I went to Tom Jones, orange pleather heaven, and were completely surrounded by scene-sters enjoying a late night snack. Carley slept over, and during the night we talked about the difference between pro-life and pro-choice, our lives, and the disgusting sense of entitlement at GV. Waking up, we made bacon and toast and sang during clean up,

"Doin' dishes as a team
Gonna make them squeaky clean
do doo do do doo..."

and so on an so forth. After robotics on Sunday, I went over Kacey's to talk about her trip to Ireland and have a generally good time with a friend it's tough to keep in touch with. When Steph came back from work, I made her tell me about her Ireland experience, because it was very different from Kacey's pubcrawling of the brogueish land. Unfortunately, I had a severe need to study for HiQ, as we had a meet the following day, so I had to leave a bit early after some very yummy cake. Studying for HiQ was not awesome, but we won with a 59 today, tying us in second place with Haverford. It was a fairly easy meet, pretty much all of the questions we got wrong came from my section. However, I pulled out the toss-up math for the second meet in a row. It's fairly ridiculous, but I'm proud. Friendly's was awful. I hate going to the HiQ Boys Club. I'm not in AP Physics or Stat or Calc, and I'm good at art and have a vagina. The hostility is subtle, admittedly, but there is conversation I am ashamed happens while the sweater is still on. It's not something I'm proud to go to anymore, because I don't feel a part of it.

Quotes: Three Years of a Secret Blog

They're all this and pages and pages of texts from Jimmy and sickly sweet musings I am too embarrassed to post.

"I screamed so much. I tried so hard to be normal, just until the end, so I screamed in anger and sadness and there was a catch in my voice and I hoped they lost so I wouldn't have to face another third quarter alone."

"This morning was awkward and tragic and frustrating. The new year is dawning."

"It was blue and we fell skyward..."

"If there is a time in the future where we can fall responsibly in love, I will be lovingly and devotedly head over heels for him."

"I want to be better, but hopefully he appreciates the eager enthusiasm and innocent desire to learn. "

"It felt so good and my will melted to him, though not all my anxiety."

"My existence does not include potentially scar-inducing activities. Therefore, I am a bit lacking in crazy/dangerous, easily recountable tales with the evidence always with me."

"He was worried my dad would walk in and discover his baby girl engaged in devious sex acts with the scruffy pothead. He didn't phrase it that way, but I got it."

"It was about me, and this full body tension, and the thrill of dangerous sexuality that had evaded me..."

"It hurt so much to say with confidence,..."

"I feel like I'm taken for granted, but not worth getting back."

"he'll never love you in public and he'll never love you when it's inconvenient for him"

"Loving you means I'll always be scared you'll stop. And every day I realize, someday, you won't love me, and we won't be friends."

"Somehow it makes it easier not to be ashamed."

"And in realizing that my happiness with him was the reason for her non-smile, acknowledged that someday I will wear that sad indifference."

"This morning I cried because I couldn't believe how wonderful things are with me and how happy and different and strange I was and how my everything is so crazywildperfect."

"My heart will break for you, and I will do anything in my power to save you from your evils, but my power is small against the world of pain and suffering we will live and die in."

"I really like people and it makes me sad sometimes that nice people are sad and I don't understand any of it
I feel so young and naive and I don't know why I walk all the time"

"I don't question her faith so much, because it gives her comfort, but it's hard not to."

"my Aarfy, your Michaela
what's one more dead among millions"

"You are more ordinary then I used to think"

"Please, stop! Your words are stabbing me!"

"We can discuss politics and math and science and humor and Wikipedia forever, but not philosophy or how your childhood made you who you are. I know this is simply the product of a sentimental late night pity-fest, but I've never shared anything really important with you except what was relevant to yourself."

"I don't want any of your monogamy, girls who make you happy, make you happy."

"I don't want to say that of my day, I look forward most to talking to you; that I giggle and grin when I think about lying in bed together or looking at you..."

"I pine softly for moments, rather than lifetimes."

"and I'm fantastic at keeping other people's secrets
but not my own"

"I keep falling for boys who do not need me"

"I am so worn down and tired. Time passes, I pass with it. My mom hugged me extra tight on Tuesday. She knew I was sad. I knew she was sad too."

"I berate myself in scathing letters and allow the sentiments to resonate in my silly little head. "

"My biggest regret is how much I believed in the future."

On blue M&Ms, I wish for opposing extremities. Either end provides more comfort than the in between.

I lack gross feminity. I consider college a possibility to run off into the sunset in high heels and hooker make up, to be a bimbo or an object or someone to be loved and wash the floors, at least for a little while. Giving up freedom for security works.

Ontology and Honesty

I'm ignorant and inexperienced!
I cannot believe myself into or out of a position except by state of mind and not physical or sovereign state. A glass of water doesn't change if you think happy thoughts at it. A human might, if you happen to smile during your telepathic direction of good will. "There's no art to find the mind's construction in the face." Beyond any seemingly sincere smile may lie misgiving and insecurity. I cannot prove that anything exists beyond my consciousness, and yet I trust the spoken word as promise. It's about about connotation and insinuations. To say, "You are my rock," is generally accepted to mean that the person in question is a source of stable security. For me to say, "You are my rock," would imply that I am being weighed down. I speak honestly to the best of my ability, usually in a blunt fashion, but I'll doublespeak more accurately in the implications. Because I utilize the nuance of language, I expect that others can and do, on occasion. I discover fine details of literary craftwork and sift double meaning from language that was not meant to hold any. While it serves itself well in academic passage analysis, it is an abhorrent practice to apply to text messages and love letters from time past. And yet, from every insecurity and momentary gasp it has elicited from me, I am rewarded with the occasional unveiling of an intent they did not mean to express. It is not worth it.

Dad

Being little, my dad was the strongest, oldest, smartest person in the whole world. He could hoist me and my Cookie Monster balloon up on his shoulders. He could beat up anyone or save me from anything. Now, he is older and a little broken, but wiser. On the way home tonight, we talked about musicians drinking to excess, keg parties in the woods, the slow-creeping, inevitable college, and an idyllic past. We sang "For What It's Worth." His voice is more pleasant for never hearing it in melody. I know he doesn't sing with Jack.

M&Ms, Spray Paint, and Sex Toys

Glitter is Evil!

Othello won Desdemona not with witchcraft, but storycraft. She was young and innocent and charmed by the words of the scarred and hardened old general. Oh, the power of language.

I'll love you when you to go prison
for a starry-eyed idealism
But someday when we both get old
We'll wish we'd been more scared than bold

New Year's Resolutions 2010

Go Streaking
Go to Philly and NYC
Learn Stairway to Heaven
Get a working copy of a Stones, Dylan, and Zeppelin album
Send a letter to Jon Stewart and Stephen T. Colbert
Become a member of NPR
Donate to the ACLU
Start a webcomic
Build a snowman
Build a wall mount CD rack
Learn to tango
Learn to change oil and tires
Cook two meals from scratch a month
Write apology letters to everyone I've wrong
Write letters to all the guys I've had crushes on
Watch the launch of a space shuttle
Learn to roller blade backwards
Send a message in a bottle
Plant a tree
Go to a protest
Sleep under the stars
Learn to juggle
Go to college

Read the Following Books:
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest
Wide Sargasso Sea
Pride and Prejudice
Pride and Prejudice and Zombies
Heart of Darkness
Cat on a Hot Tin Roof
A Streetcar Named Desire
The Age of Innocence

Watch These Movies:
The Godfather Trilogy
Lawrence of Arabia
Singin' in the Rain
The Sound of Music
Annie Hall
The Deer Hunter
Schindler's List
A Clockwork Orange
Rebel Without a Cause
GoodFellas

2KX

Yesterday, I set about making my New Year's Resolutions without much inspiration. While my '08 resolutions were born from the idea that "with every broken heart, we should become more adventurous," this year was devoid of motivation besides self-improvement. However, with last year's list in hand, I pulled out a sheet of paper and a gel pen. The goals came more quickly than I anticipated, especially after my dad lectured on the decline of creativity and basic self-sufficiency. In all, the list is longer than last year, with more specific goals.

After helping Jeff with his poster, we called up the co-conspirators to go to Longwood. Student Tickets, FTW! I'd never seen the Christmastime gardens, and was awed very much so. Unfortunately, we went a little fast, but I got to see the whole park, including the residential DuPont manor. In this former home, now museum, we walked through the display rooms, reading informational blurbs and generally educating ourselves. However, in the last room, there was a very large cat splayed across one of the chairs. Sleepy and fat, we later found out this pudgy cat's name was Beumont or something, he was one of nine cats that inhabit the gardens, and that those cats have a better health care plan than any of us could ever hope to have. Around 9:10, we hurried over to the fireworks viewing area. Despite the rain, they were beyond spectacular and synced to classical orchestrations. My favorite rain like falling stars. Standing at the peak of the sloped lawn, we could see that particular kind of firework was falling through the sky and landing among trees and fountains. Being young assholes without parents, we ran to the exit and through the parking lot.

To Viv's! Everyone else has places to be, so Jeff and I hurried over for pancakes and to meet her boo. There was an exchanging of YouTube videos. Jeff saw "Two Girls One Cup." I saw the reaction, but kept a fair distance from the computer screen. Dick Clark is an animatronic zombie and Ryan Seacrest has a funny nose. I got dropped off at 1, my brother already asleep and dad reading away in his room. My last meal of the decade was Viv's pancakes, an obviously good end to the first decade I managed to live all the way through.

~

Wayne Allwine, the man who voiced Micky Mouse longer than we have been alive, died in May this year. In real life, he was married to the voice actress who is still currently the voice of Minnie.

I'm not saying it's right or wrong, but it hurts.


When an obvious thought, delayed, strikes suddenly,
it strikes more powerfully.

[Edit: Posted this in the wrong blog, but some of it's good.]

One Group: Three Projects

In AP English, my class was given a few options for a creative presentation of Hamlet. Some of those options consisted of interpretive dance, write a song, and select a play-list for a theatrical production of the play. Being young and ambitious proponents of the "Shakespearience," our group elected to construct all three of those options. Of course, in selecting the interpretive dance, I assumed that I would be the focus, as I am the only one in our class who would be comfortable with publically rolling around on the floor to depict the tragic and untimely death of frail Ophelia. Hopefully, our presentation will be recorded, and I will not giggle through the entire production, set to "Nightingale" by Howling Bells. Secondly, selecting a playlist. We shuffled through iTunes and found titles fairly related to Hamlet, "Poisonous Intent," "Lovesick Teenagers," and "The Day We All Died" and the like. However, we also included "Poker Face" after no debate as to relevancy. Doodling a CD cover was not difficult, except for remembering what happened in the play that could be accurately depicted on the tiny, irridescent space. Writing the Ballad of Ophelia was tougher. While I'd started out with a good basis, Evan P. had tuned Kira's guitar to drop D. I'm not fantastic at tuning from memory. Luckily, there was a tuner. Unluckily, I didn't know how to use it. Instead, Kira and I elected to go with the good ole' Psych standby, "Last Christmas." It's blunt and I don't know how the melody to the actual verse goes, but it'll be rockin'.

Jon Stewart

"In a quiet, unassuming way, this guy from the previous generation has become the symbol of many of the things our generation is all about: logic, skepticism and policitcal change through merciless teasing. And the fact that most of our elders call us "the worst generation" for relying on a comedy program for our news, while we call them "the insanest generation" for creating an environment in which a comedy program is one of the more reliable sources of news, seems like one of the more interesting conflicts of the decade."

Damn Fine Day

HiQ!
Stasi and I saw the most aesthetically pleasing Robert Downey Jr. as Sherlock Holmes!
Viv made pancakes!
[H]ouse!
Chase took his shirt off!

Rockin'.
:D

[Edit: I love Barack Obama, "I believe that robotics can inspire young people to pursue science and engineering. And I also want to keep an eye on those robots in case they try anything."]

I Got the Clap(per) for Christmas

My extended family quite aptly fits that adjective. There are a number of different religious creeds and geographical locales they have settling in, each with his own stereotype. We're the feel-good, quirky family holiday movie of the year without all the crying until someone gets into a verbal battle of political ideals they weren't prepared for. My grandmom got the Slap Chop. I got the Clapper. My dad got a "rabbit skin rug" in the style of a bear skin rug, but made actually of polyester and displaying a very large "rabbit head" in the style of the manly bear skin variety. Aunt Kathy, the stylish socialista, could not make it up this year, but called and shared some lovely conversation. Uncle Mike, the sarcastic comedic relief, spent his time on the phone with her loudly and facetiously complaining that "Roger," my aunt Karen's South African, soon to be husband, would be wearing a "puffy shirt" to the wedding to match his medically required eye-patch. (The brothers are hosting the brother-in-law's pirate themed bachelor party.) Towards the end of the night, after tea and pie, my aunt Jeanne brought out two very large, very heavy boxes of books. While being courteous and taking turns, the whole family sauntered up in pairs to select neat little stacks of neat little books to supplement their Christmas booty. "You don't see this in every house in America," my dad commented lightly. It made me very proud of the home and environment I had been raised in.

[Edit: PS. 'Christmas booty' shout-out to Stasi.]

Must Be Tired of Something

Today, I went sledding for the first time in many a year. It was exhilarating to fly screaming through the stinging snow. Even more thrilling was Kate and I piled onto one sled attempting to knock over Jeff and Stasi, who were sledless spoilsports. :P I heartily enjoyed my time and hot chocolate afterwards.

Lavishly dreaming of classy drinks, classy ties, and warm solo vocals, I've been listening to Frank Sinatra. The band is a complement to a traditionally pleasant voice, and the lyrics pass through meaningful musing to sappy serenade.

I remember being cynical. Sophomore year, Tboc recommended The March of Follies, or some similarly titled novel on the basis that I was enough of a cynic to appreciate it. Still, there was a time of idealism, and I have since returned to my scathing roots. It is not meant to say that I am unenthusiastic and have stopped dreaming, but I'm more realistic. I don't want to be another white girl that didn't get out of suburbia. However, my future seems so empty with possibility that I may fill it with comfortable familiarity. It's hard to find a compromise for myself. It's much less painful to be cynical and faithless.

I Believe in Magic and a Thing Called Love

I danced around my room listening to The Sing Off cast rendition of "Mr. Blue Sky." I air-guitar'd. There has not been this much of that kind of dancing in my room since last summer. My life is bangin'! Over a lifetime of wishes, I have roughly a 50+% success rate with blue M&M magic. I'm cute, talented, endearing, and enthusiastic. My family is amazing. I had a happy childhood and a ballin' adolescence. I have good memories that make great stories. Bitchin'!

Good Things Specific to Now:
Snow- all related beauty and creation
Hot Chocolate- with marshmallows
COOKIES!
Hot Apple Cider
Christmas Lights
"Holiday" Songs
Having trees inside
Christmas ornaments
Friendlier people
Parties!
Days off
Solstice
After tomorrow it's getting lighter again!
Family
Pumpkin Pie- whipped cream
New socks
Gag Gift
Candles
Poinsettias
Fire Places
Blankets
Scarves
Mittens
Yule Log
Christmas Cards- glitter
Birds puff up their feathers
Cats have winter coats
I have a winter coat

I'm On Cracked

"...The end result is a bizarre image of an invisible pedophile who's apparently only visible when viewed through some special infrared camera. Parents, your child could be getting teabagged by an invisible pedo right now."

"Robert, no! Holy crap, is that what you look like without a shirt on? Aren't you supposed to be some kind of sex symbol? You look like a white Urkel."

I believe that I am making holiday cards as an excuse to use glitter. It's not often I have arts and crafts projects that demand the excessive use of sparkling... I don't even know what substance glitter is made out of.

I got my gifts for the "Dirty Pollyanna," the "Dirty Dirty Pollyanna," and the "Psych Pollyanna." I'm finished shopping for mom and dad and have all the cards for my teachers, but only three friends. I wanted to get "Play with Me: Massage Oil" from Victoria's Secret for the Dirty Dirty Pollyanna, but alas! it was too expensive.

Blue M&M Magic Works

Yesterday morning, I had my favorite bowl and my favorite spoon and I was so ready for Honey Cheerios, it was gonna be awesome. However, to my great distress, there were no Cheerios to brighten my day with their toroidal delight. Settling for Lucky Charms, I decided they were still a way to bring happy nostalgia to my morning. They were stale, and I was saddened.

On the bus, past Bethel Springs, the sunrise over purple New Jersey was splendidly orange. Steve and I discussed some notion not particularly relevant to anything, but that made me laugh. English class was a similar source of irrelevant humor, as we continued acting out Hamlet. This time, my role was that of "GHOST." I do not believe I was terribly frightening in the role, but no matter. Art lacked the holiday songs we'd been so long enjoying, and in Psych we had a pop test. There were some nefarious going ons, but we shall see how that works out. Math was full of stories and a few bad puns, but otherwise the same as any other positive day.

After school, my mom picked up Jack and me for our Christmas portraits and some Christmas shopping. I did not find a cheap gift for dirty dirty pollyanna, but I did resolve my need for a psych pollyanna gift. She dropped me back at my dad's. I fell asleep. Jeff came over. He brought me a bag full of bags of M&Ms and retaught me how to solve a Rubix cube, but I've since forgotten again. We shared stories and a little music on guitar that I recognized, but could not name. I played Hallelujah, a hesitant bit of Lizzy, and the intro and chorus of Brick. Later, we ran out to try to find milk, because the 202 Wawa was out of everything, including gas. After he left, I went to bed in a very warm and contented affection. I woke up very early to a bright room lit by snow's reflection. Merry Snow.

Read is a Homophone

Budding time for liveliness
And growth to all things new,
She shot up like a creeping vine
Desiring to do.

Her bright face flushed by summer's sun,
She read stained sheets of paper.
Making out the meaningful
Wherever she was able.

Still the tired sun sank down
An ode to autumn skies.
Little girls must go to sleep,
As will to nature lies.

Empyreal in blanket snow
The moon reflects on time,
On wasted beauty, summer sun,
And youth that passed her by.

Poems and Prose

Suddenly I realize
That if I stepped out of my body I would break
Into blossom.

It is a sad thing, a goodbye long coming and too soon met.

Autumn frosts have slain July...

I seem to cycle through beautiful bursts of obsession, musing through poetry, aliveness, philosophy, all mighty knowledge, prose, and art. Currently, I am enamored with poetry.

Dreaming as the days go by,
Dreaming as the summers die:

"My favorite gift was..." Both an English prompt and freedom. I wrote about my first set of wheels, an open top Jeep, that fire engine red adventure-mobile exactly my size circa 1998. It got horrible grass mileage, but was endless on sidewalks. Too bad there were no sidewalks. I read my prompt like Cheryl Trykv in Teen Getaway, pregnant with dramatic pause and that cool, indifferent whine. It got a few laughs, some snaps. Even as I write, my thoughts pause unnecessarily for effect. It's very- me.

In mercy lift your drooping wings and go.

Langston Hughes' poem "Harlem" contains the line "...a raisin the sun," from which Lorraine Hansberry titled her play. One of the girls in my class read the novel, and related that this particular allusion implies "one should not let their dreams shrivel like that eponymous line." This is not, I think, the intent of choosing those words. Hughes does not declare statements on the nature of dreams, only questions it. He merely suggests that perhaps shriveling is a fate of dreams deferred, or maybe "they explode?"

We warned ourselves. That you might despise
Me—hate all we both loved best—
None of us ever guessed.

Being in Lit. Mag. brings an incredible appreciation for talented authors, namely because most people aren't. The exposure to all writing styles clarifies how to improve my own ability. Whereas I formerly assumed that my writing was disconnected and abrupt beyond comprehension, I realize that, relatively, this is not the case. Beyond the syntactical improvement, I've grown to discriminate on the basis of substance. A number of poems dwell on themes I would have written in the past. Now, I see them as trite adolescence. Still, I am unable to create my own original expressions. Still, I try.

But I say it’s fine. Honest, I do.

And I’d like to be a bad woman, too,

And wear the brave stockings of night-black lace

And strut down the streets with paint on my face.

As far as I am aware, I have never met a prostitute. Its criminalization is, I think, an atrocious manipulation by males of morals and the female body. It is not desperate women who drive the streets at night looking to satiate their desires; men, no matter how powerful, will always be subject to their irresistible needs. Because of this, lady of the night sounds classy, but is as in opposition to class as day is to night.

So let us melt, and make no noise

"After working sixty hours again for what reason" stirs my fancy and notions of bureaucracy.
"Amor Mundi" is a another good poem.

Oh, I have picked up magic in her nearness

In context of the rest of the poem, I perceived the above line in reference to myself. However, as an independent sentiment, I thought of Viv and Molly. Viv, and the idea of her, has nutured a restlessness in me and an awesome appreciation for blue M&Ms. Molly, fantastic resident of the written world, has a penumbra of life, even when I am not near her.

I wrote some poetry tonight.

One-Twelfth Dozen Is too many Words

I've been dreaming about Dave again, even in fantastic ones. Previously, these phantasms were confined to cold encounters in hallowed halls of dream school, roughly equivalent to reality. While real life proximity is acceptable, dreams are unsettling to me. I am not indifferent towards him, but I cannot clarify my thoughts. Nostalgia is the closest defined expression. I feel like I'm not allowed to think about him.

My mama thinks I'm grown, but I'm really just little.
Someday, I will remember.
Someday, I will remember.
Someday, I will remember.

If, as the naughtiest pit girl, I were to get coal in my stocking, I would set it on fire. Today marks a little under halfway through December, and I've begun reflecting on the year. This was the fastest year on record, and certainly not deserving of the nice list. In one year, I have acted the Sodomite, disregarding my notions of sexual exclusivity and emotional commitment. I have sneered at the high and mighty from my ivory tower, locked up all alone with the occasional visitor.

If, as a nicer pit girl, I were to receive a book of poetry, I would already be familiar with the verse. Today marks a little under halfway through December, and I've begun reflecting on the year. This was the fastest year on record, and certainly deserving of the nice list. In one year, I have opened a parallel world of enjoyment, frowned upon by my mother and the status quo. I have loved the bodies of those longing for touch and loved the lives of those who do not need to love me in return for my own selfish satisfaction. I have rediscovered a community that I was formerly barred from, a community of stories and the "new."

"'I'm significant,' dreamed the dust speck"

In psych class, I feel like the presumption is "sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll," when really there's only rock and some bjs and mild, mild narcotics. O my.

My brother was an effing angel. All of his pictures from childhood are super adorable, with super hilarious faces. I wish I could've gone through these pictures with someone. My mom gets sad seeing all of the family she doesn't have. My dad is indifferent. My brother has better things to do. I think I need to track down Kristin R. and give her the duplicate pictures I've had for so long.

I identify with Ophelia, frail, insensible, goes crazy and suffers a tragic fate at some point in the future.

I've made some rockin' stuff. A few shirts, a few songs, a few paintings, a couple beautiful letters with a few lines of prose I especially liked. I recently stumbled onto excellent poetry that I've been savoring as well.
Gitanjali 35
To the Desert (this poem is soooo sexy)
To His Coy Mistress (this poem is even sexier)
Romance
Bilingual/Bilingue
anyone lived in a pretty how town (okay, so I already liked this one and forgot)
Black Boys Play the Classics
The More Loving One
Love Armed
Danse Russe (which I've lived)
I roll the volume on the cylindrical knob and throw my body to gyrating behind closed doors to opening Doors. It sounds hideous, the movement of imperfect flesh to imperfect sound on desecrated disc. It is, but no one seethes.

Usher is a very attractive man. I do not understand why he should take off two different shirts in "My Confessions pt. 2," but it's the sort of thing I'm okay not questioning. If I got more benefit from religion, it would be a good analogy.

HiQ meet tomorrow. Bring it on. I feel smart this year and weirdly older, especially in a sense I wish somewhat to be ignorant and passionate again. There is a certain joy to being alive. I'm going to climb a tree right now.

Movie Tickets from my Memory Box

Casino Roy
11/25/06 with Dad, Jack, Jeanne, Karen, Kathy, "cousins," ???

DCI
8/8/07 with Jeff, Drew, JoeKat, Jeremy, Abby, Sarah, ???

Across
9/21/07 with Viv, Jeff, Nicki, Scott, Molly, Matt, Abby, Sarah, Erik (?), Steph (?), JoeKat (?), ???

Across
10/06/07 with Mom and Jack

I Am Legen
12/20/07 with Matt, ???

Cloverfiel
1/22/08 with JoeKat, ???

Jumper
2/17/08 with JoeKat, ???

Juno
1/27/08 with Mom

Vantage Po
3/15/08 with JoeKat, Abby, Matt, ???

Wanted
6/5/08 with Jack, Dave, Trisha, Nicki, Matt, Hetty, ???

Mamma Mia (actually Pineapple Express)
8/11/08 with Dave, Taylor J., Conrad F., Pat F., ???

Lakeview (actually Religilous)
10/04/08 with Dave, Jeff, Matt, ???

Quantum
11/22/08 with Mom and Jack

Valkyrie
12/27/09 with Matt

Milk
12/21/08 with Molly, Jeff, ???

Watchmen
2/8/09 with Matt, Jeff, Sarah, Molly, ???

Coraline 3D
3/26/09 with Jimmy

UP
6/23/09 with Jimmy

Bruno
7/10/09 with Jeff

Harry Potter
7/23/09 in OC, MD with Jack and Stasi

Ugly Truth (Actually DCI Show)
8/06/09 with Jeff

500 Days
8/11/09 with Viv and Erik

Lying
10/03/09 with Meg, Joe, Adam, Stasi, and AJ

Capitalism
10/04/09 with Matt

Things in my Memory Box

list of senior pranks
letter from Kim
poem from Stasi
3D glasses
drawing from Kira we can never show Eric or Wasiq
personal list of beautiful words and things
letter from Jeff
three month anniversary present from Jimmy
money
"things that rhyme with 'ail'" paper from Dave
'09 New Year's Resolution 24/36 completed
Flying Pikachu card
Surfing Pikachu card
flying pig encased in glass
light up penis lollipop plastic base
drumline bracelet
necklace
marijuana seed
Longwood Garden ticket from filming our US project
Billy Joel & Elton John Face 2 Face ticket
Riverlink Ferry ticket from blink-182 ticket
pink "T-MOB" wrist band from blink-182 concert
"How to Recognize Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever" game card
rough draft of 3 month anniversary present to Dave
2 free pizza slices at the Laser Dome ticket
West Chester "Music in Motion" '08 ticket
Homecoming '08 ticket
Prom '09 ticket
University of Delaware vs. West Chester football game ticket
two Friendly's smiley face stickers previously used as nipple pasties
plastic fancy toothpick from casino
movie tickets

"i luv u"

My mom has, by far, the worst text grammar of anyone I converse with. However, this is usually the entirety of any message she'll send. Last night, a little after midnight, I called in need of someone to talk to. I was so relieved to the point of shaking when she suggested driving over and talking in the car. Unfortunately, she had taken her medication, rendering her unable to drive or fulfill her suggestion. It hurt some, especially knowing that through circumstance, my mom could not be there for me. Growing up in a divorced home, daily life is easy. It just took some getting used to with the schedule and there's two Christmases. However, long term, I do not want any child of mine to grow up without a mom, for legal or biological reasons. Once I get into the full swing of adulthood, I have to get "evaluated," to be sure I did not inherit the same biological faults of my mom, even though I'm grateful for the Berbee boobs. We talked about it, the distance between us and what kind of adult I will be, like her or not. She spoke of times she wouldn't let Jack or I see her cry. I thought of Disney World, the first time I did see her cry. When I could get through my own tears and sputtered chokings, I spewed my fears and frustrations, my dissatisfaction and self-doubt. I explained and labeled my feelings as best I could, feeling entirely childish for this cumulative frothing of emotion. The phone call gave me more things to think about, rather than ease my anxieties. This tired and torrential morning, Mr. L. so effortlessly heard my few, nonchalant words, and assured me with more words than the cliches my mom offers. Still, the problems exist and will return again.

PSU and Navy Too

I just want to get into shitty, not-good-enough Temple and take generic courses to get nameless degree to get menial job where the piece of paper is only the admission ticket, and then they completely retrain you to fit whatever mold they require. My check has not yet been received. My online application has not yet been processed. I couldn't apply to PSU. I don't think I'd make main anyway. I gave my contact information to a Navy recruiter, and I don't want to do that either. If possible, I'd like to be great at something I'm passionate about, not "above average" in a bunch of things I'm fairly indifferent to. I'd like to have any passion, so to speak. Oh my Jesus.

221

Today, I did some personal math in, of all classes, math. Looking at things only in terms of time and money is really, really disheartening. Throw in a deadline, some distance, a dispersion of friends, an absence, a silence, brings inevitable end. It is very dark in the future, because everything is such a mystery.

Christmas Is Coming

But it's always coming except two days a year.
There are large things I want this year, and I would be very content to get none of them, as I don't need anything I don't already have. An electric guitar, nothing fancy, just not "my first guitar" from Target or some like. A camera that is not point and shoot. A car, but I continue to not want to drive.

A fun and hilarious role-playing scenario would be President/Intern.
An unfun situation would be David Letterman/Intern.