Life is Good

Mind you, I'm not going to be one of those douchebaggy, John Mayer types with the visors, bumper stickers, and frisbees, but it is a statement I will endorse. There are 17 days of paper left in my journal, which is just long enough to document my first full day away from home. Realizing this, I went back to see if all this writing had its intended effect, for me to be able to read the words and remember all the left out detail and emotions. Selecting two days at random, one from May and another mid-June, it appears to work! From the sentence, "We went to the mall." I remembered where and why we went and the conversations had along the way. I'm glad to see that my gifts were put to good use and so pertinent in recording this particular summer. Maybe this winter I'll read through the entries and hopefully just as easily say, "life is good."

Privileged

This evening, after the art museum, after my hair cut and half-slice of "Chocolate Lovin' Spoonful Cake," I retreated to the hammock in an attempt to get through Tortillas, Beans, and M-16s. Content wise, the book offers a fascinating insight into the guerrilla war of El Salvador during the mid 1980s. The author is a photographer, not a writer. I have to drag myself through her writing style. Her attempts at deep understanding and platitude fall very short from the mark. And I hate her whiny white person attitude, but appreciate that she does not portray herself as a tireless saint. Those complaints out of the way, I love the personal, intimate encounters with poverty. Because the author of the book primarily set out to document the war through photojournalism, her writings detail the daily lives of people fighting and supporting the "compas.*" While I've learned a lot about the nature of this particular war, the book draws my attention for highlighting the abyssal gulf between American perceptions and reality.

Poverty not necessarily in the sense of abject lack compared to an American middle-class standard of living, but how that absolute absence shapes and defines an entire culture. I feel so utterly self-absorbed and unaware as I read. Firstly, I have never traveled outside of the United States. I have never felt a need to understand in great detail the political and military histories of any countries that weren't covered in Euro. Especially those in South and Central America, Asia, and Africa, which is roughly greater than 70% of the world I would imagine. Secondly, my sense of how poverty affects the human psyche has always been in the terms of the American poor. The fact that other countries have different cultures as a result of their economic standing never occurred to me. I had naively assumed it was the different histories and geographies. I'm sure those factors play some part, most likely because they are the cause of poverty.

For all of the information and wealth and privilege that has surrounded me since I was born, nothing has ever prompted me to think like this. No public school education. No parental guidance. No other book I've read, fiction or nonfiction. The only thing that even got close to this consideration was Jeff's voyage abroad, because he personally narrated stories of the differences. Being in the AP track, my historical education was solely Euro-centric. Sure, while I hold the belief that the majority of "cultural exposure" classes are hastily designed to satisfy some politically correct agenda, by God, how much more could my horizons have expanded if I'd known? Every mention of poverty in school seems to instill the idea, "Aren't you proud to live in America and not these horrible other places?" No, I'm not proud, I feel guilty now that by lottery of fate and genetics, I am here, writing in my interblog on my nice laptop in my swivel chair with running water, electricity, and a half-slice of "Chocolate Lovin' Spoonful Cake" left in the fridge. And that I will still do nothing about distant oppression.

I'll get over the guilt, it's a white person thing. Admittedly, I'll probably even forget my initial horror at how ignorant I was. Still, I wish this wasn't some revolutionary, adolescent discovery. I guess if every child was inducted at an early age to realize how precious and tenuous their life is, they'd be more satisfied with themselves. They wouldn't need to buy so much, and then maybe they'd have a little more money and a little more time to actually do something about the problem.

*compas is short for compañero/as, "friend" similar to comrade

Judicial Review

The Christian idea of Judgment Day is a very cruel notion. Obviously, an omnipotent, omniscient being should have the ability to instantaneously determine "your" fate. Instead, it's been fabricated as a Holy courtroom to exploit human fears of shame and public speaking.

Text

Jack and I went to see Inception again this evening. It definitely proved its worth in rewatching, and a solid use of his free tickets. Nearly all of the early scenes dust in subtlety that requires an understanding of the whole. A second viewing also helped me solidly pin down thoughts about the movie and ideas it represents. Still, my mind wandered very far from the cinema. Forty minutes in, my mom texted me out of the blue. I hadn't spoken to her that day, and it made me sad I'd never realized that she probably spends a lot of time thinking about me when we're apart. Of course, technophobe as she is, she sent it in drastically abbreviated "txt tlk." Her text, short and broken as it was, summarized a nagging thought too tantalizing to ignore, but too painful to answer. As a practical utilitarian, I hope that she's wrong. As a cynic and a skeptic, I tell myself that she is wrong. As a selfish girl experiencing something more than anything I've ever lived through, I wish that she was right. I don't want an answer. I try not to think about it, try not to come to a solid conclusion. Because without a definitive answer, everything is beautiful and nothing hurts.

August 1st

The beginning of the end has begun.

Last night, the very late evening of August 1st and the very early morning of August 2nd, I snuck out to visit a friend. While waiting for their mom to fall asleep, I climbed up onto the roof of a nearby building and gazed up at the stars, reflecting on the joy of the day and how few days are left. I cried with my sweater all stretched out to cover my legs from the air and the bugs. I cried for the phrase " I don't know when I'll see you again," and the long hugs that follow. I thought about how lucky I was that this day, this perfect representation of everything I could want from a goodbye summer, wasn't over. I smiled and smiled and hugged myself and laughed for how happy I was. All thanks to friends.

Alcohol-Wise

For Temple, as for many colleges, I have to a mandatory alcohol awareness course. Some of it is informational, but it is a very condescending course. Also, its free-response sections are not very comprehensive.

For the prompt, "In your opinion, how would drinking rank on your list of fun things to do and what would be number one on your list. "

I responded, "#1 fun thing would be learning something with friends or going out, and because I don't drink, drinking would probably be at the bottom of the fun things list. "

No matter how I arranged that, I kept getting the response, "You must provide a relevant answer. Use at least three words in your entries, and DO NOT use any profanity." *sigh* I guess learning is not a fun thing. I'll probably have to put shopping or going to the movies or something abhorrent like that.

Revelations [The Edit]

A web comic in the tradition of great webcomics inspired me to Google Image search Barack Obama this evening. I forgot how attractive our president is, and I feel like a bad citizen for neglecting this important fact of government.


[Edit: www.en.wikipedia.org/Beewolf: Not to be confused with Beowulf

EVIL BEES!!!!!

My mom knows nothing about me!

I kinda want to write "Pit: The Musical." Or the very extensive music video.]

Nearness of You

Okay, so I loved Nora Jones, not so much for her voice, but for her composition of the song "The Nearness of You." While continuing my search for the perfect Sinatra album today, I found that she merely covered it! While I appreciate a beautiful singing voice, I find the beauty of creation far more stunning and admirable. Alright, alright, I don't think Sinatra ever wrote a song, but his voice isn't beautiful, it's a classic tradition that is more connotation at this point.

Started on my super secret project today, which was exciting. I took care of an obligation, briefly met with Dan G., hopped over to Molly's, though she was busy, so walked over to Lauren's while she was finishing up. Both visits were pleasant and overdue. Sitting on Molly's floor was sad to feel the pressing of so many memories that are no longer relevant to who we are. Afterward, I dropped off something for Keith at Wawa and continued on my merry way home.

Pulling into my driveway, I called Nick F. up to see if he was still at the sale. With all great fortune, he was. AND! with his lil' sister! I joined them for lunch, then went downstairs to find the Sinatra album I'd been desperately seeking. No luck, but I did find a good one for a dollar, and have reasoned that Sinatra covered every song Billie Holiday ever sang. It's nice.

From there, we drove over to Nick's and hung out. We did a lot of driving today for not doing much. At one point, sitting in the living room, Nick opened a vague forum for suggestions of what to do. Myself a veteran of the VB creek, opted to make a dam. That suggestion was turned into "look for tadpoles," even though it's definitely not tadpole season (as was later proven with limited experimental data). So we drive away from the neighborhood to this "swamp," where a stream supposedly held the baby frogs. Nick, Alex, and I search through giant muddy tire tracks filled with gunk to no avail. We saw one frog, and in a moment of "What the fuck?" see a giant tire swing in the distance. Excitedly running over to it, we realize we are in a clearing of magic. I could probably describe it pretty well here, but it's something I want to keep vague until it can be seen in person. It's interesting.

We went back there after getting Liz, traveled to the Grist Mill where I showed them the geocaches and explained the concept to Alex, who was very amused. He and Nick came up with startling abuses of the system, but hilarious ones, admittedly. Returning to the home of Nicholas, his mom sliced up some steak for us to make sandwiches. Brilliant, as I hadn't eaten dinner and it was ~8 by this point. We watched most of Superbad (which I'd never seen), and then "What Would You Do?" for an hour. It was an evening I had not expected, and one that I will attempt to recreate for others.

Dreams

I had 2.5 dreams last night.

The first one, both excellent and lengthy will be recapped here for memory's sake. The second has more cause for thought and will be written about elsewhere. The 0.5 was when I had the first dream, woke up and appreciated it, then fell asleep and continued it.

In Nick F.'s car, I was in the back seat behind the driver, with Brendan D. in the passenger seat. Coming up on the Sunoco near my house, Lil' F. greeted us wearing a shirt that said something to the effect "Oprah was a Teenage Prostitute." We exchanged pleasantries (while driving), but eventually went past and on to 202. The dream was cast in the purplish dusk of "right after twilight" time, and our destination was Brendan's house behind GV. Once at the school, it had the layout of a church I used to attend, and the place was swarming with Boy and Girlscouts celebrating Halloween. Being stealthy and whatnot, Brendan and I took great pleasure in scaring the children through the hallways. Stopping to help out right before leaving, we felt it made up for our mischief. While exiting the school and traipsing across his dewy yard, I woke up.

Eventually falling asleep back into the dream, I returned in Liz's house, where she was excited to see Nick. We all set about to joking, until Nick and Liz made it obvious they were going to hook up, and I realized that I could probably get with Brendan. I'm pretty sure there was more to this dream, but I don't remember it.

Somebody Else's Blog

Apparently these were all written by high school students, but there was some sort of objection to that. tl;dr. Either way, they're funny.

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a ThighMaster.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Naughty & Nice

Naughtiness failed. Nice was rockin'! Or hip-hoppenin', more like it!

Turns out Birds & Bees Risque closes at 7 on non-Friday weeknights. A terrible shame. Either way, I drove over to Kim's house and waited for her to come home from Vacation Bible School so I could serenade her. Her personally calculated E.T.A. was for 9:30. Because my shopping adventure ended abruptly, I had a little more time on my hands than original planned, and so serenaded Kim's neighborhood for a half hour or so. One guy sang a little Zeppelin, but the majority of dogs and passer-bys avoided my evening practice sesh. At 9:33, I decided to stoop it out on Kim's front step. There, I scared away her cats, and a few minutes later, I scared her mom. "Who is hooligan stoopin' it with a guitar?!" I explained myself before she could say that, but her thoughts may've beat me to it. She called out Kim, sneakily explaining that she needed help with the groceries. Bam! Kim was so surprised. For whatever reason, I did not spend my half-hour prep period attaching my shoulder strap to my guitar, so I pulled some nifty moves in holding it up/playing... "Whatever You Like" was the chosen song for serenade, as the result of a long dormant inside joke. Inside, she offered me water and "Chocolate Fudge Brownie" ice cream while watching the Barbie Fairytopia movie that I could. not. follow. Personally, I like to think I was charming and amusing during my time as her guest, but that is biased. All in all, while I did not get any exotic toys, I did make a lasting memory.

Passionate

"Too much capitalism does not mean too many capitalists, but too few capitalists."
-G. K. Chesterton

Every so often, I want to throw myself into a life of Bohemian abandonment. Maybe write a few articles for radical publications, volunteer at the anarchist book store, such and the like. It's not because I am exceptionally passionate about social reform. I can talk about the ills of society all day long, but what have I done to combat poverty, its hunger and homelessness, its destructive lack of education? Right now, I equate being informed with being involved. If I actually participate in the process of fighting injustice, I can alleviate my middle-class guilt, but that is still not the attraction. These moods are appealing because I wanted to be surrounded by passionate people. Artists and anarchists, I'm sure, have fantastic stories and excitement in their lives. It's the same with poetry, music, and art. The subject is appealing, but the people are what draw me in. Hopefully they won't call my bluff.

[Edit: Temple has THREE separate socialist clubs on campus!]

Numbered

It's true, and I suspect it is in reference to Iron & Wine.

Summery

"Maybe that's why you put gas in your car instead of paint thinner."
-the summary of my evening

Last night, with warm breezes and moon almost full, I realized that I could not have asked for a more perfect last summer. I snuck out. I partied. I went down the Brandywine on an alligator. I played guitar, and I napped in the hammock. I've been surrounded by friends, and the whole thing feels a bit surreal.

I Have Been Oriented!

My Temple Orientation was slated for the 19th overnight to the 20th.

Day 1:
Within ten minutes of arriving, I was given the wrong room key (but I didn't notice until ten minutes before it was over). Lecture. Blah blah blah. Lecture. Blah blah blah. "I'm freezing cold! Why did I wear shorts?!" Blah blah blah. "They just gave me a rape whistle...?" Blah blah blah. The first day was spent almost entirely becoming informed. The Honors Luncheon was scheduled for 12:30, which meant another lecture before we ate. While everyone else went to the all-you-can-eat dining hall, we got a cold sandwich, chips, an apple, and nasty shortbread cookies. I selected the chicken sandwich, ready to enjoy a good chicken patty. FUCK! It was chicken salad. Thankfully roast beef was still available. Dinner was spent with some kids from my orientation group, both of whom play guitar and one of whom is now my on campus connection, so to speak. The night was spent in and out of rooms after our leader abandoned us to the wolves of the street. Two of the girls I hung out with were from Serbia and Moldova. Woo, Eastern Europe! We tried to check out the dance party, but the DJ was awful, so everyone dispersed into the night. I wound up with an English major, and we discussed literature in his room until check in. He was adorably awkward. Mop of hair, Rayband glasses, laughed at inappropriate intervals. It was a good time. THE WORST SLEEP OF MY LIFE FOLLOWED THIS PLEASANT EXCHANGE.

Day 2:
I woke up early enough for breakfast (no pancakes or Honey Nut Cheerios, so I was about to get all up in here to petition somebody). More lectures. Not as freezing cold. Finally! Signing up for classes! Me and the other honors kids in my group wandered off for our advising, and there were a few laughs. Everybody there had some sort of AP/IB credit, but had no idea what kind of classes we were getting credit for. General Education classes are low-level bullshit classes that give everyone a "well rounded" exposure to culture. Of the 13 classes required by the Liberal Arts college, APs and placements mean that after my first semester, I will be completely done with all but one of them (providing I study abroad, which is happening). My first semester classes are as follows:

Honors Calculus I
Programming and Higher Languages
Honors Mosaic I
Intermediate Spanish
Race & Poverty in the Americas

I'm so excited! I had my band audition at 2, so I unfortunately missed the skits about buying condoms 10 for a $1, but ah well. There was a super awkward guard boy who was practicing roughly the same time I got there. Dr. Brunner gave me some time to practice, because I hadn't touched a marimba since graduation. The mallets were the shittiest Mike Balters with almost no weight to them, and the marimba was a slightly more professional "big red." Despite this, I warmed up with everything I knew, including playing The Heart Asks Pleasure First with only two mallets. Finally, I played Zoot Suit Riot, did a little sight reading, and was accepted to the band! They pay for everything except my shoes. Hoorah!

Growing Up

Physically, I have stopped growing up. In all other respects, I realize I have much farther to go.

Hate Driving

Today was the first time in the history of Chloe that I would be driving alone. Before going to my mom's, I tried to calm down. I took deep breaths. I sat in the car and visualized what I was going to do. I felt not terrible, and it got a little better as I went. My park job wasn't so good when I got there, but I just backed up and had it perfect. Mom and I visited Laura and her mom on Brandywine Blvd. and craziest fucking thing, my roommate was there and recognized me from Facebook! I talked to her real quick, but she seems totally normal and easily got into a conversation with my mom. It was a lovely afternoon with many stories told and three bagels eaten. On the way back, we took 95. I felt alright with it. My mom didn't direct me as well as I would've hoped, but hey, I recovered.

THEN.

>:(

I got home, went on Facebook to grab Surya's address, and then my dad decided that we should watch the State Farm safety video. "Oh! Excellent!" I thought, "some driving tips from the people whose business it is to make money preventing accidents." It was this motherfucking video that's about killing everyone you've ever loved with your car and/or yourself. That's exactly the kind of stuff that runs through my head anyway and makes me not want to drive. So I almost cried during this 11 minute "DRIVING IS SCARY" video, then almost immediately left for the party. If I hadn't been so emotional, I would've remembered that being emotional is not a great state to drive in and/or to go through my calming down routine. Totally not confident, I made it to Surya's house. I had a good time. I was the only white girl there. The food was delicious. Hallelujah. As I went to leave, I figured I would stop by Nicki's before going to Kevin's. She wasn't home, and I reasoned that it was too much driving for one day and that I should go home. I didn't turn the wrong direction on 202. I didn't rear end somebody going to in Wawa, but as I drove, that movie was alternating between the back of my mind and the forefront of my focus. Not good. Finally. I was relieved to see my house. I made a very quick turn into the driveway because a car was coming, then went to turn into my parking spot and ouch. Hit my neighbor's car. I don't know why he parks in our driveway. I almost cried sitting in my car before I saw the damage. I thought that my dad probably heard it and would be running outside, but no. I locked up. I walked around the front of my car. I had entirely smashed my right headlight. Thankfully, his only has minor superficial damage to the front bumper, but still. I will no longer be able to drive. I am almost sort of relieved that I won't have to again.

Duh

I never realized that coincidence was literally co-incidence, meaning two of the same events. D'oh.

Geocaching

Dan, Brandon, Gab, Alex, and I went geocaching in the Grist Mill today. The humidity remained at an uncomfortably high level, and Brandon flashed the entire parking lot as a result. Ignoring that, the day turned to one of discovery and ab-aching laughter. We eventually found three caches; two of them contained an interesting assortment of children's toys and knick-knacks, while the third was a film canister that held barely more than the signature log. Finished adventuring, we made our way over to Bravo's pizza, which reminded me of the night that Viv, Jeff, (maybe Dana K.), and I went there and ate sugar powdered Italian things. During the drive over, Gabby waved at a guy in a Corvette, which prompted him to roll down the window and start flirting. Learning that she and Brandon date, he advised him to stay in school, work hard, and maybe he could buy her a car like that one day. Later estimates pegged his age at somewhere between 50 and 60. Dan, Alex, and I got gas at Wawa, then took a smoke break in the Target parking lot. We got back to Gabby's around 8:30 to settle in and watch Dead Snow. Dan and I both saw it previously, but oh, it definitely earned its second viewing. The audience commentary added another layer of excellence to an already stellar film. Dan needed to get home by 11, so we took our leave. Another lovely summer evening complete.

Sign Graffiti

Emily and I set out last night to paint the town gold (with black Sharpie accents). Our goal was to leave inconspicuous little messages throughout the area. The stars were absolutely radiant last night, and the air was cool and mosquito-less. We laughed. We talked. We defaced public property. Several spots in a lot were converted to Handicapable Parking, and there is no longer Barking allowed in a few areas. Admittedly, I would call some of the work vandalism and not art, but that is subjective for the viewer anyway. Most of the time, I feel my graffiti is justifiable as art. The stencils are usually of some creative merit, and more often than not clever (not that I'm biased or anything). I see no harm in messengers. However, my graffiti hypocrisy is most evident when it comes to tagging. Occasionally, I can appreciate the skill involved, the uniqueness, the daring, but 99% of the time I define it as vandalism. Of course, the enormous three piece monstrosities are works of awe and nearly always art. Towards the end of the night, we settled in the hammock because she had not thought to bring a sweater of any sort. It was conversation of the sort that can only be had in a hammock at 3 in the morning during your last summer of no obligations.

Thinking Thoughts

I feel that in novels, tales of "love at first sight" always begin with, "and then she walked through the door, and the whole room seemed to stand still." Admittedly, if I saw a woman walked through a solid door, I would also be left speechless. One usually does not walk through the door, but through the doorway. Oh idioms.

5(s)

National AP Scholar! Fuck yeah!

How much studying did I do outside of class? I dunno. Maybe one hour for all of my subjects combined. BOOYAH! And most of that was literally outside the classroom waiting for the test to begin. Bangin'!

[Edit: this also means I am triple qualified to place out of Temple's basic English Comp.]

Gotta Hot* Date and Good Friends and Schemes

*Humid would be more accurate. It was positively nasty outside.

Joel and I went to see Despicable Me today. It was adorably in the style of Pixar, but without the cohesion and incredible story telling. The kids in the audience enjoyed a number of the slapstick scenes, but the adults I think were most amused by the Bank of Evil (formerly Lehman Brothers). For all of its good points, I wouldn't recommend it unless you didn't have to pay, as Joel and I didn't by simply walking into the theater because nobody paid attention. I <3 Painter's. Afterward we went to the Grist Mill. Of course, the night was filled with a torrential downpour and the air felt like swimming, but hell, Nature! Because it was an impulsive visit, I was wearing flip-flops. Awesome choice? No, no they were not. My feet got muddy and itchy and I got stuck in my shoe in a way I would not have expected. I was significantly less attractive by the end of our hike.

He's a little overbearing in conversation, which isn't much conversing, but more a scrambling for related stories to fill the void of silence. I discovered I'm kinda freakin' selfish and don't feel particularly guilty about leading him on. I'm not being overtly sexual, but it's flattering attention and something to do. It's nice to know I could get dates in college.

Nick and Emily came over last night, so we hung out in the yard with Jack & Jack. We talked. We scowled. Nick ranted. We walked down to the lake to listen to bull frogs, and there were geese sleeping on the water. They left close to 3. It was a nice night.

There is no mallet percussion section in Temple's Marching Band. I was warming up to the idea of joining band as something to do. With all the free time of college, it will be imperative I get out of the dorm and out of my head. If I get down, I'll need something to force me to get out and laughing with other people. Thus being true, I've sent an inquiry about possibly joining the battery. I'm sure I'd get cymbals or bass drum or something shitty like that, but maybe I could make tenors (what a lovely delusion). Their band meets Mon.-Wed.-Fri. and the mornings of home games. It's mostly pop music that is played simply for crowd entertainment that changes game to game. Every student receives a scholarship, which might translate to tuition remission for me. It would be weird to have spending money. I could go to museums!

I made and bookmarked a list of every museum and book store in Philadelphia that offers interest, relatively cheap admission, and/or free events. I'll try to bop up to NYC some weekend to visit Steve and perhaps crash at his place if possible. Ceci has invited me down to DC to check out all of her free museums *so jealous,* which I would definitely like to take up. I'll be sure to have Emily and Jeff over to visit, and seriously anybody who could possibly desire a night's stay in Philly. I will make it my business to hang out with Viv and her arty friends. Plus homework and classes and hanging out with kids on my floor and generally bothering everyone to find common interests; I'm very excited for college, but still worried that I may not live as brilliantly as I could.

She's So Lucky

I'm a cutie with smarts and a pretty sweet personality.
I don't have to worry about paying for higher education.
Jack is the coolest person I know and clever and generally awesome.
My dad is the handiest man I know, and literate on SO MANY SUBJECTS.
Our home is the homiest place I know. It is the best.
My mom lends unfaltering support and makes me a stronger person.
Collectively, my family is ballin'.
I could wax endlessly on my friends and their influence on my life.
In fact!

When Jewish Upon a Star

In elementary school, I was taught that because the Jews were God's chosen people but never given a home, that He gave them a special gift. That gift was their being good with money.

Seriously, my parents paid good money for me to learn that.

Jews are the only slight evidence I have for the existence of a Greater Being, specifically the God of Moses. They get so much extra-special shit, and in my experience, yeah, they actually are pretty good with their finances.

Relatedly, I had never heard the term "JAP (Jewish American Princess)" until maybe a year or two ago. Since then, I have found several examples to be true, though almost exclusively my cousins.

I Am Awesome

These are some reasons why I'm the shit:

I floss every day
-have awesome stories
-rock the random trivia
-carve fruit
-play guitar
-play mallet percussion
-have a fantastic memory
-have sweet dreams
-read poetry
-write often
-am a good listener
-keep a wall collage
-am a good screamer
-keep a journal
-don't drink lots of soda
-climb trees
-am a pirate
-have an eye for typography
-garden
-am an immigrant's daughter
-walk on my tip toes
-walk a lot
-give good handshakes
-give great bjs
-do not imbibe
-send letters via USPS
-can solve a Rubix Cube
-disregard authority
-'m just about fearless
-am politically active
-graffiti message
-listen to NPR
-am a feminist
-am anti-consumption
-am a terrible, yet proud, dancer
-deface money
-text quickly
-have never broken a bone
-have never broken a phone
-sneak out
-am an atheist
-have awesome posters in my room
-(almost) play mandolin
-love learning
-draw on shirts
-am a swell artist
-can flip a pencil around my thumb
-sing
-wear long, tall socks
-don't have cable
-word play
-am an alright conversationalist
-am beastly at CLUE
-also rock the Trivial Pursuit
-collect vinyl albums
-costar in an award winning short movie :P
-appreciate the things I have
-am above average in academic subjects
-talk to all sorts of people
-collect dirt/sand
-wear some crazy outfits sometimes
-read
-stencil on occasion
-can read treble clef
-hablo un pocito espanol
-listen to good music
-read xkcd
-am honest

§ 3124.1 Sexual assault

A person commits a felony of the second degree when that person engages in sexual intercourse with a complainant without the complainant's consent.

Indescribable Feeling (But I'll Give It a Shot)

First off, I have been in the most fantastic mood since Sunday. My dad and I spent the afternoon together, then ate dinner outside after the first successful test run of the grill. It really felt like summer, despite the fact it was already the 4th of July. Uncle Mike had us over for Sun Valley's fireworks as per usual. Since then, I've been so stupendously warm feeling. Every single day this week has had some wonderful, fantastic adventure with great people that I'm grateful to know. Monday saw the Brandywine followed by Lauren's pool party and ended with a sweet front porch evening. Tuesday I hung out with Joel and saw Jeff's hockey game, that night was so happy it lingered into Wednesday, which is when I finally had Juliana over for our sleepover. Thursday had me a little worried, because I was going with Meg and Stasi to Automm's. I'm not terrified of social situations, I get nervous about talking to people sometimes. Automm had two of her friends over, which got me a little stuck at first, but I told myself to get through it. One of my biggest fears is that I will have many acquaintances and no friends at college. I didn't want to be scared though. The person that I want to be is bubbly and outgoing and easy to engage in conversation, but that's not going to happen unless I practice. I thought about the magnetic personalities in my life, and what they would do in this situation. It wasn't a long thought, but I vowed to be fearless and funny and friendly. It worked! I told stories and evoked laughter and felt comfortable to be myself, even around strangers. The entire ride home, even stuck in an extra forty minutes of traffic, I felt so enveloped by joy. I often take my current friends for granted, but that time allowed me to be stunned by the people I'm surrounded with. I finally felt like I can be the person I hope to be. At home, wrapped up in bed, I couldn't stop smiling.

Vae Victo

I'm either an ass or making assumptions.

I only know the date when I have to write it down in my journal. My hope is that in writing sparse details of daily activities, my memory will always be able to fill in the rest. I'm forgetting things that happened in summers past, unless I can remember the date.

June 30th, July 3rd, 4th, and 5th, July 11th, July 19-20th, the 25th, August 5th, August 9th, September 7th, September 22nd, November 21st-22nd.

June 27th. July 10th. August 13th. August 15th (?). August 22nd.

I can recall hours from these dates, full of details and emotions and little stupid things. This is the first year I hold any significance to winter dates, but I'm scared this summer is so brilliant it will be without distinct highlights.

Envy and greed are the motivating forces of ambition - and without ambition, very little of any importance would be accomplished.
-The Satanic Bible
Woo, apathy!

Links & Connections

Currently open tabs (besides this blog):

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russian_jokes#University_students
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-24-hour_sleep-wake_syndrome
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Best,_worst_and_average_case
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Non-photorealistic_rendering
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rococo
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:French_loanwords
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Trimix_%28breathing_gas%29
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Truth_and_Reconciliation_Commission_%28South_Africa%29
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Terminal_burrowing
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Truth_table
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Propositional_calculus
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Truth_value
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_priori_and_a_posteriori_%28philosophy%29
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Degrees_of_truth
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/False_dilemma
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Multi-valued_logic
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Slingshot_argument

http://www.pdceng.com/portfolio/battery_energy_storage_system.pdf

I don't know how this happen sometimes; it just does. SO MUCH INFORMATION.

Ugly

"If there ever was a moment to be labeled poetic, this was it"

I enjoyed my company this week.
Party. Joel. Stasi. Party. Party. Jeff. Gary.

"she was everything; and we were endless"

Today prompted the beginnings of a new journal, as my last one was entirely filled. Every day since May 6th (with the exception of the family reunion) has been documented.

"I'm trapped between the foreground and the background as the only guy she ever knew who could make her tingle"

I can't wait for college to say 'no' for me. Augh.

"That sunset has put an end to more beautiful days than you care to count"

I remember everything. Every slight and cruelty and sweet moment no one else will ever remember. I hate it.

"It's taking something ugly, and painful, and heartbreaking beyond comprehension"

Most days, I'd peg myself at a 5.5-6 Throw on some eye make up and a bikini, I like to think that I could push an 8.

"and showing you just how fucking beautiful life can be."

When I feel like emotional shit, I want to go running. It's too bad that only happens at night.

"Coraline, UP, & Toy Story 3."

Sometimes I think about being nervous in the library or laughing on the couch together or standing out over the sunset after UP; but I never thought about us in a group, how room-dominatingly funny Jimmy is. I had reduced him to the word funny, acknowledged its truth, and proceeded to not think about what it meant in real context.

"Why are humans cruel?"
I wish I could explain or at least be blameless.

Deception & Monkeys

I got shit done today, bitches. Besides that, I also went to Anna's grad party and boogied the night away. I multitasked some badminton and spectated a game of ladder-ball. Ceci and Lauren arrived with conversation, and we discussed the scandalous going-ons of friends and minor celebrities who are (unfortunately) gay. It was determined who everyone at the party would marry; I to a record producer, who may perhaps be black. Anna had a DJ playin' some sick beats that nobody was particularly fond of, so when the Casper Slidek: Part III came on, I walked over to the badminton circle and cut a rug (lawn). It was a little after that when the monkey war started. The theme of the party, besides graduation, was monkeys. Every table was accompanied by at least three little plush monkeys, which had been gathered together as ammo. Andrew immediately became the main target due to his "impossible to have" allure. We sufficiently wore ourselves out enough so that everyone came back to the talking table. Some time later the DJ called us out, saying that he could see us bobbin' our heads to OMG by Usher. We were not into that. I went up to request "You Make My Dreams" by Hall & Oates, but to no avail. I reported the disappointing fact that all he had was a dance playlist on a Mac. Ceci was upset, but took it well, saying she would keep H&O in her heart. When the funky beat of You Make My Dreams did come on and I revealed my heartless lie, Ceci walked over and punched me. Then walked to the dance floor and got her groove on. E'rybody on the dance floor was gettin' down, and we requested the most ridiculous pop from the 70s and 80s. Ceci and I shared a dance-floor connection during "Hungry Like the Wolf," with much prowling and seductive undulation. Several cheesy songs into the list, we were pleasantly contrasted with "Jump Around" and then rebuffed by "Shots." I finally sat during Shots, a song advocating a horrendous lifestyle, and it was suggested that we were in the Temperance Society, or perhaps the Anti-Saloon League. Much laughter highlighted the evening, as did a few record scratches from the DJ, which were not well received. At one point, he ventured onto the floor behind Rachel, and Noopur just about screamed, "Watch Out!" and with horror the whole floor turned to witness her fear. He was kinda a scary dude. We played Sardines, and by that, I mean that I waited under a pine tree and got nature in my hair until everyone gave up without finding me. It was a good time. I'm glad I didn't leave early, but I'm excited for tomorrow. I'm feeling it's a cleaning day.

Things I Wrote

While on vacation in Myrtle, the majority of my time was spent in and about the pool thinking. In the evenings, I would go back to my aunt's house and write down everything I could remember thinking about during the day. This is that list (for my own convenience). Some of it is part of a "to-do list." Some of those items are already completed.

Spiderweb window screens
List of places to drive to
I can travel lighter
Get more classic rock
-Don't Do Me Like That
compare to
Oxford Comma
Invest Money (?)/Save for college
Life purchases
-house
-car
-insurances
-food
-guitar
-string of pearls
-camera
-computer
-stereo system, albums
-housing until #1
Rooster shock collar
Banana King- with crown + :3
Goddamn birth control
Do erased messages still send?
-probably, but test
How'd they get absinthe?
Why am I so sleepy?
Deal with social fear/self-worth
Talk to people, visit forcibly, 53 peeps
-[names, names, names]
Postcards
Gifts

Chores/Projects
Wash floors (?)
Fire pit
Clean toilet
Basement (?)
sexy dice
Bottles, candles, water (?)
Closet(s)
Watch Serenity, Borat
Album holder shelf
-alphabet, label maker bottom up shelf
Juliana sleepover
Serenade Kim
Sound of Music with Lauren
Birds n' Bees
Picnic with Gary
Fly kites with Steve
New Years' Resolutions
Debit/checking
Look into Brazilian
Establish credit (?)
Dry ice in pool with Nick
Get a job
To do list @ home
Register to vote
Make definitive "to read" list
Tired to sleep, exercise to
not get stuck in head
and to feel fulfilled
Volunteer (?)
Wetriffs photoshoot
Find excuse to dress like pirate
-Hagley (?)
Get calendar (?)
Perseids (with Jeff?)
Hang with Kira, story tent
Get passport
Insert friend birthdays into phone
-via Facebook
Visit Mrs. Rock
Make HiQ Memorial "thing"

Talk
-Grateful
-Jealous/Proud
-One down

Write About
-scary dream
-eating fruit
-being in sun
-talking to family
-drunken uncle
-pool volleyball
-thought-provoking

Thank-you Letter
Mike, Dan, Laura
Sam (?)
Kathye again
Doc/Rock

Father's Day
?!?!

Short story
share heartbeat
Aliens "missed" religion
black cat, stuck fighting snake,
-sets on fire
Woman "uses" lover to escape husband
"Why didn't you get her a black Barbie?"

Dreams
Interviewing Pearse
Class with Mr. C.
Crazy "children's songs" partridge
'Cruisin' round Myrtle
-telling him about it
-Alex Van, drinks?

Poison Ivy bj
tree falls in a forest
-don't get caught
onion grill cleaner
wasp spray mace
Jeanne, love, Pat
Get Yellow Version
-classic rock
-what a wonderful world
-Billie Holiday LP, Strange Fruit
Sweet Things
Jeff
Dave
Matt
-driving around
-Christmas cookies/[H]ouse
-NPR on living room floor
Stasi
-beach
-mac n' cheese
Talking to Laura late night

Twodays

Dead Snow: the most ridiculous movie, or the best ridiculous movie? The film presents itself as being about "Nazi zombies," when it is more accurately about undead Nazis and the hilariously gory ways to kill them. It is one of the better zombies movies I've seen, eliciting much laughter and also quite a bit of anxiety. I dropped my cell phone when I went to the bathroom; I was very startled. Oh, and the whole thing was in Swedish or something and we had to read the subtitles. My mom said it was a waste of time.

My yesterday (6-28) was both productive and enjoyable. The afternoon held interesting company and a few activities I rather forgot about. It was an interesting contrast to my usual routine. I played the most violent videogame for Wii and a little bit of MarioKart. I'm still terrible at Super Mario Brothers, but I apparently rock the bumper pool. I played fetch with a very silly German Shepherd. My evening was less straightforward. I went walking. There was a gentleman on his porch, unsurprising, given the hour, but he was still consciously in his spot when I returned past his home two hours later. That time in between was not so productive except to get me physically active. It was very humid for a summer night, and jogging left my shirt uncomfortably damp. My calves ached when I woke up, but my head was much less foggy melancholic.

The better part of today was spent downloading music, correcting grammar, and procuring album art. I'm pleased to say that only things from the internet are lacking artwork, which is approximately 10 songs or so. I have exactly 60 Disney songs on my iPod, one anarchist audiobook (because they like producing free stuff), and one almost terrific video that captures me and Rob H. traipsing about the school at sunset.

I've been trying really really hard and fairly successfully not to nap. I have a huge to-do list being slowly chipped away at, but in two months, I'll be all moved into college. That's not a lot of time.

Nobody Else, and I Sing at the Top of My Lungs

Being gone does things. It keeps me out of the loop, for one. I returned to a world upturned.

I'm sorry. I didn't know. I don't know why, but I understand more now. Perhaps my response was appropriate. Perhaps not. *hugs* It was a good way to tell me.

It doesn't feel right to leave childhood still so childish.

Steve and I made breakfast together this morning. He had two boxes of pancake mix, which when combined, yielded slightly under one cup of mix. Although, another thing adding volume to our one cup were the two bugs buried in the flower. There was no milk, so we mixed heavy cream and water together. They were the best pancakes I'd had since New Year's. One of them made a heart accidentally. Mrs. Girolomy taught him how to microwave bacon. He gave me my birthday present, which was a tiny pirate ship made out of clay. x]

I've thrown away my nights and wasted all my days over you-oooo-oooo-oo-ahooo.

And the upturned world fell into place.

[Edit: haha, flower]

"You are the sparkle in my life"

"We'll have the summer
He'll work and I'll work
We'll see each other at night
and on the weekends
Then he'll go to one school
and I'll go to another
Basically that will be it"

I flirted with Joel most of the afternoon. He was really appealing after the blink-182 concert last year, but I knew that was just the live music "I love this band" euphoria. I haven't dated anyone since Jimmy for my self-applied blinders. I felt like a dick that it continued later into the night, but also reassuring that it's not something wrong with me, and I'll be fine at college. There were more fireflies tonight than I've ever seen in my life. It was awing. That smokey smell in my hair under the bioluminescent twinkling, I realized there aren't bonfires or fireflies in the city. I saw Ferris Bueller's Day Off for the first time. I thought about fear and about not wasting time. I have to wake up at 3 am, but I go to college in two months. I always thought of summer as three solid months, but it's really not I guess. When I get back from Myrtle, there'll be pretty darn close to 60 days left. Then, BAM! Whole new world. Entirely new people. Yeah, I'll correspond with the old life, but I can't make it the same.

Sitting next to Joel at the beginning of the movie, I felt a hand scratching at my shoulder. It reminded me of sitting with Dave in the band stands. When Jeff came over, Dave put his arm around me. I told my mom about that, that it made me feel uncomfortable and special at the same time.

"I will miss you more than I've ever missed anyone."

FYAD is worse than /b

50 Most Played

I recently introduced a new friend to my blahg, and so decided to look over some old posts. It's ridiculous how much my Top 50 Most Played has changed.

1. Lullabye
2. Hero
3. All My Days
4. Seaweed Sheets
5. Oceanwalk
6. Everlong
7. Skinny Love
8. Soco Amaretto Lime
9. I Gotta Feeling
10. Good Arms vs. Bad Arms
11. Disloyal Order of Buffaloes
12. Hum Hallelujah
13. Thirteen
14. Bonfire
15. She's Got You High
16. Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want
17. Vagabond
18. Us
19. Savior
20. Velouria
21. Sweet Disposition
22. The Boy Who Blocked His Own Shot
23. Mushaboom
24. Fast Blood
25. You Make My Dreams
26. Passing Afternoon
27. Indian Moon
28. As Time Goes By
29. Up Up & Away
30. Samson
31. The Coal Hits the Fire
32. Here's Looking at You Kid
33. A Complex Thing
34. I Believe in a Thing Called Love
35. Poke
36. What Would Steve Do?
37. (If You Are Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To
38. Man Overboard
39. Pursuit of Happiness (ft. MGMT & Ratatat)
40. Merry Happy
41. Queque'un M'a Dit
42. I'da Called You Woody, Joe
43. Song for You
44. Dirty
45. Blue Mind
46. Poison Oak
47. Thunder Road
48. 3rd Planet
49. The Fixer
50. Breakeven

Although, actually thinking about, it hasn't changed at all.

Not Worth Reading

[quote: WD-40 Posted]
One time my grandma and I were weeding in the early spring and my spade hit something shiny in the dirt, which I thought was some kind of interesting metal artifact, so I dug it out with my hands.

IT WAS A BALL OF EARWIGS.

Seriously gross. It was the size of a baseball and the ones on the outside were all dead. I guess that's how they hibernate. I screamed and cried and maybe fainted. My grandma destroyed it with her shovel, because she's badass.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH. Why do I keep reading this thread?!

Gettin' shit done, bitches! I have to make a list of things to do before I go to bed, or I won't wake up and won't do anything. I've already tackled two major projects, and I'm scared I'm going to run out of them before the end of June.

According to the internet, the Spirit Airlines strike has ended and I will be able to fly to Myrtle, not drive. Thank the lordless intertubes.

Perhaps my next thing to tackle will be organizing the shelves above the laundry room closet. Also to do is get my passport, make a driving playlist, and get some new underwear. It's a varied list. I also have to finish up my mural this summer on account of not living her anymore once fall strikes.

There is soooooooo much information on the internet. Like, conceivably my brain does not have a defined limit for learning, but sometimes I need to take a couple minutes to freak out and settle the kettle. Anything I want to know, I can spend less than 5 minutes rooting around the internet and I have source material right there. What the fuck?! This is amazing! What an incredible time to be alive! That and the free porn.

While cleaning out the family bookshelf, I found the MOST ADORABLE picture of my brother. I made a gurgling awwwwww noise for probably a good ten seconds. It was his little league picture from 2002. I still have another ten minutes or so I have to invest in the bookshelf. All of the things that weren't book are all piled on top of the stereo.

I want a vinyl copy of Led Zepplin IV. I don't think I would need another album ever if I got that. I've never seen a single Zepplin album on vinyl though, and that's the best of the best, so I may have to seek it out.

Summer time makes me happy! It's been kinda sucky weather, but from Friday to uh... maybe Saturday, I'm going to be straight swimming and eating mangoes and bein' in the sun and chlorine. That makes for some hot summer prep. Plus, getting a new bikini from the beachwear side of the family. SCORE!

Shout out to Jules!

So there's this boy I know whose ringtone is Smile by Uncle Kracker, and I feel like he must be a romantic to do that. It kinda makes me jealous?

Dreams

Last night, I had a really long and extensive dream that had me wake up with my heart pounding.

It started as a band trip during a winter out of a TV show the likes of Gilmore Girls. We were supposed to be playing for some far off college with Gothic architecture where Christmas lights were hung up in every tree and on most of the buildings. I was late getting onto the band bus, and realized the only seat left was with Abby. It was super awkies, but we didn't acknowledge it. She was talking to someone in the seat behind us, and I was talking to somebody ahead of me, despite the fact we were sitting in the front seat. At some point, I turned to look out the window and forgot who I'd been sitting with. We smiled at each other, and she said something that made me laugh, but we'd just arrived. Everybody hopped off the bus and waited around in the light dusting of snow, with rumors circulating that we were in the wrong place. Shortly afterward, D informed us that we would have to come back the next day, so he was taking us to a restaurant to get us fed in the meantime. We arrived in the city, and as is the nature of dreams, time sped up infinitely to the point where I was going to college in the same city, possibly in my junior year. I was running for some sort of political seat, but it was in the midst of a much larger political takeover where that seat happened to be one of the contested chairs. I went into a store to buy something, and the cashier was talking about threats of violence against candidates and the general public. It was unnerving, but I bought what I intended to come in for. I took my purchases to a barber shop, because I wanted to get my hair cut before debates two days ahead. Sitting down, I realized I'd bought Yugioh cards in a fundraising attempt. I'd spent $5 on cards, and was hoping to find a more valuable card to sell back. While I was looking through my stack, this little black boy sitting next to me started falling asleep on my shoulder, which hindered my sorting. I apologized when I woke him up, but he became interested in what I was doing. I gave him a few less expensive cards to look at, and I started to ask him about his classes. He told me that he had graduated 6 years ago, meaning college, and I startlingly realized he was much older than me. I was shocked that he had been so content to play with the Yugioh cards if he was older than me, at which point he leaned in very close and menaced the words, "Black Horse Troop," which was the name of the political party that was intending to sweep the elections by any means necessary. I was chilled with fear, and froze in my seat while he got up laughing out a back door. I sat and collected myself while waiting for my turn for a haircut. When I was called, the man was agonizingly slow, to the point I was paranoid he was working with them, since they knew where I was. I stood up and apologized for leaving so quickly, but I just about bolted out of the place when I realized it was close to noon, a time they had threatened to incite violence. The barber shop had been a part of a huge complex of stores, dorms, and classes, and I was walking through the covered portion to get to the exit that would take me to my dorm. As I got to the class exitway, there were people running and screaming past the door and into the complex. I stood in my place a few moments until I saw a window across the street shot out and shattered onto the sidewalk. Terrified, I ran with the crowd, but I gained my compsure and started making my way towards the second story to try to cross the street in the skywalk connecting this building and mine. The floor I got to was a mall, mostly abandoned by the time I got there. As I hurried to the skywalk exit, a half-dozen kids wearing black hoodies and bandanas burst into the mall ahead of me, and I couldn't move. I realized they were giggling and trying to catch their breath, and one of the kids made it clear to me they weren't with the opposition, they just wanted to smash in some windows and cause mayhem in the chaos. Relieved, I started walking with them away from the skywalk and further into the mall, when the door behind us was shot out and a kid next to me was shot. Panic erupted and I fell into a display as the kids mobbed past me. We ran to the stairwell, but panic gates had been erected across it. We pleaded with the person who had just locked up, but they ran away. The kids darted away further into the mall, but I hid between the door and the gate, realizing that the corridor was also a freight elevator. The floor that I came out onto housed the corporate offices for the mall, and also the dorms for those who worked in the mall. The first door on my left was bustling with people who were seemingly unaware of the terror on the streets. I made a statement to the effect they should take cover, but it was replied that they were crisis management and doing their best to coordinate the rest of the building. I left and found my way to the housing, where I knew my was temporarily living to help install telephone wiring in the newest section. I hugged him, and started prepping the room for a seige, when I thought I heard Jeff's voice a few rooms over. I crept out to see, and it was him with his roommate. I was so relieved, our hug seemed to last forever, but nearby gunfire sounded through the hall, so I had to leave. He shut the door as I left, and that race from his dorm to my dad's was terrifying. I slammed our door shut just as I heard shots in the crisis management room. The doors were very flimsy, so we laid down in the closet to avoid random fire, at which point I woke up.

Bad Habit

"And I lie down and remember you loved me here, and I tear up. And I remember when you kissed me despite my tears, and the tears roll across my cheek and perch upon the edge of my ears, and I remember when you kissed my ears and told me beautiful and temporary truths.

I feel strange."

I wasn't immediately sure who this was about.


Last night's walk was not a good idea, except getting home and playing with Cabot in the driveway. I decided once again that I make terrible decisions to the point of being a hazard. I obviously learned nothing being with Dave or Jimmy, and for all my self-esteem, I have really shitty self-worth. On a brighter note, fireflies are awesome and last night was pleasant.

I had a dream about the best kiss I'll never have.
Pretzels were $0.20 and the cashiers were friendly
and I wasn't afraid of traffic.

Thinking

Money has a way of making one think, and tonight I intend to go walking for the first time since Thursday.

I'm On Fire

Woah.

These past few days have left me at a loss for words. Thank you notes to Rock and Doc are summarized as, "I'm speechless and grateful." Even writing this blog there's not much I can drag up to say. It's a little bit overwhelming. My whole future changed overnight.

Waiting in line for graduation, Mr. L told me that this was a sign. He knows I float by in classes, and that this incredible opportunity isn't meant for somebody who accepts the minimum. I don't really believe in signs, but I do believe in advice, and he's right. Mr. L said in those difficult moments of "to do or not to do," I should imagine his bearded Jiminy Cricket face on my shoulder.

In congratulating me, several people mentioned that I deserve it. I don't necessarily feel undeserving, but it's an outrageously generous gift for only having written three essays. Financial need was the most heavily weighted factor in determining the recipient. Am I simply the poorest applicant, or did my academics weight me above somebody less fortunate? My dad wanted to know how many people applied for it. I don't know of anyone else.

Mrs. G. and my dad both asked where am I transferring to, but I don't think that's going to happen. Admittedly, when it came to application time, I didn't even look at colleges over $25,000 a year. Over the weekend, I threw out my booklets from NYU and BU.

By great coincidence with graduation, my cousin is getting a new car, and I'll be receiving her '91 Nissan Maxima as a joint grad gift from my dad and my uncle Mike. It was tentative for a while, but after the awards night, my dad said it was a definite. I'll have to get a job to pay for gas, but I'm still terrified of driving, so I feel this will mostly exist so I can pay to get myself to work.

Things I Think: Bleeding Liberal Edition

I think that if you have a yard, you should be growing food.

I think that all drugs should be legalized, because I think it is the system of obtaining illegal goods rather than the illegal goods that cause the majority of the problems to society.

I think that crimes against property are crimes of poverty.

I think that a solid high school education, a guaranteed affordable college, and a loving family would fix >80% of the problems in juvenile offenders.

I think that the death penalty is immoral. It's terrible that the government can take away my liberty and my happiness, but they should never be allowed to take my life.

I think that juveniles should always be tried as juveniles.

I think that the bail bond industry makes no sense.

I think that if everyone in America had health insurance, then premiums would go down because every single person is contributing to the system, and only a tiny fraction of those people need to use its services on an annual basis.

I think that hollow point bullets should be made illegal, or, in the words of Chris Rock, "guns don't kill people, bullets do." There's no way anyone is hunting with hollow point. Also, any automatic machine guns. Those are only used for killing people. I certainly understand a citizen's desire to arm themselves against the government, but I personally would not want any of those people to defend me against it. You can't "kill" a government will bullets anymore.

I think that the suburbs shouldn't have such fucking big yards, because they're wasting water and fertilizer and useless and they force everybody to live so far apart, which is why we need cars. Also, back when neighborhoods were smaller and houses closer together, every parent knew every kid in the neighborhood. This made everybody safer, and preventing a lot of the petty crime of teenagers, because any person you messed with would tell your parents.

I think that my ideal world would be if stopped producing so much useless garbage and began to focus on important* things, then the whole world would easily have an acceptable standard of living. However, I don't know what we'd do about overpopulation. If everybody had enough food to eat and clean water and was educated about illnesses and immunized against preventable diseases, there'd be a lot more people.

*important as arbitrarily defined by me, like food, water, clothing as necessary protection from elements, shelter, tools, and instruments of culture.

I think that "the media" is primarily a vehicle of consumption. Scary news stories and sports games and super sexy skinny women with perfect skin and hair are all trying to get me to buy something.

I think that sports figures are paid way too much money. If they really love the game, they would settle for basic health care and livable salary.

I think that medically assisted suicide should be legal.

I think that all drugs should be legalized, and that medical marijuanna should be a legitimate treatment option.

I think that gays should have the right to have civil unions that bestow upon them exactly the same rights as a heterosexual couple.

I think that gays should have the right to marry, but think more importantly that organized religions shouldn't exist to keep that religious symbol going.

I think that sexism is one of my most despised concepts, because so much violence and dehumanization occurs because of something the individual cannot control.

I think that people should plant flowers in their own backyards instead of giving environmentally wasteful bouquets.

I think that people should sit down and have good conversation rather than get drunk. However, if they want to get tipsy to enhance the experience, that is alright with me.

I think that all kids should have access to whatever musical instruments they want.

I think that I own too much stuff.

[Edit: Oops, wrong blog]

Thinkin' 'bout my good life

My black journal will only last until June 24th, at which point I'll have to switch to the green one. Together, I don't think they will chronicle the whole summer.

I get stupid when it comes to boys and sports. As in, I will voluntarily watch a sports game.

I have a perfect track record of getting dumb when I stop thinking with my head.

"Everything that's keepin' me together is falling apart."
-3rd Planet

I took my first nap in the new hammock yesterday.

I threw out my brochures for NYU. I never bothered to apply.

I've kept my daily journal now for exactly one month and only missed a single day. If anyone knows what I was doing on May 24th, please let me know.

Hummus

I miss the days when crushes were only mentioned in secret code words and thrown about like inside jokes.

Yellow. Doctor. Good vibrations... All accompanied by a raise of the eyebrow and a poking intonation.

Back then, I wouldn't even have known what to do if a crush was returned. "Like, I dunno. Do we hold hands? I don't really know if I'd want to kiss him necessarily..."

Now everything is much more straightforward, and there really aren't crushes. "Eh, I like him and all, but we'd never date. Oh, yeah, I sucked his dick, but it didn't mean anything."

Last night reminded me of that time when I giggled to even utter the word boner, and it was the most electric thrill to kiss the boy I liked.

I keep telling myself that the next time I find a boy to love, I won't mess it up by fooling around.

Papyrus Font

If there hadn't been all this ridiculous hype about Avatar, I probably would've liked it more. It was entertaining, yeah, but I felt removed the whole time. I also hoped that James Cameron would be a little less blatant. The animals were created by the set up, "What do you get when you cross x with y? Do we have guys who can animate that?" The script was mind-bogglingly simplistic, and the kind of "ethnic story" I would advise Lit. Mag. kids not to write. Alas.

I've been going through the lists of courses required for what majors and minors, and then stumbled upon the Honors courses. I'm filling up a whole sheet of paper with classes I want to take. :( Some of them are hilarious, like:

Honors: Shall We Dance?
Honors: DNA- Friend or Foe?

The other ones, I want all of them! I'm going to be all over those Special Permissions. I'll have to see which teachers will let me sit in on their classes.

GV Strings Concert

From the beginning of the concert, I detached from the room full of people and chairs, and sat amazed by the feats of human achievement. There is no other animal on this planet, or possibly even creature in this universe that creates music with such intricate and beautiful instruments. At some point, humans evolved enough to be physically agile enough to play the violin or harp or piano. Besides that strange affinity for aesthetics that seems more innate than conscious thought. Once humans were capable of making music, the instruments themselves evolved over time to become the standardized medium they are today.

I write good

"It is our pleasure to inform you that because of your superior performance on the English Placement Examination, you are among a very select group of students who have been exempted from the Analytical Reading and Writing requirement. You do not have to take English 0802."

Sweet!

Making this flash video for Gov blows. I don't know how to use the program efficiently.

Can I Make Your Garden Grow?

They gave us M&Ms at prom.
:]

I tried. I strove valiantly against these acrylic nails which bound me to inefficient typing and guitar playing. I sat on my floor listening to TAL for forty minutes while aluminum foil held acetone soaked cotton balls to my finger tips. They feel funny now, but the nails did not come off. Enraged. I cut them down to size. Then I played guitar.

I had a really awesome weekend pretty much straight through all 96 hours. I didn't sleep a lot and despite the free time did not produce anything artful, but I had excellent conversation and was surrounded by people almost the entire time.

Prom!

Pre-Prom:
I had nails/pedicure at 3 and hair at 4. My mom scheduled these things thinking prom started I don't know when, but with this line up, I was not going to make it. We got to the nail place at 2 and canceled the pedicure, waiting 20 minutes before I could be seen, but finished by a little after 3.
(Notes on Acrylic Nails. Why would anyone ever want to get a pair of these things? The process of getting them put on was painful, chemical, and had flying particles of acrylic and real nail flying around the whole time in a terrible smell. After paying to have them put on, I am rendered effectively nonfunctioning. It's painful to type and text, impossible to untie knots, and very difficult to play guitar. I couldn't even get my cell phone's charger cover off last night, though that may've been compounded by severe sleep deprivation.) Anyways, we got to my hair around 3:15, putting it up in curlers and setting it under the warmers. Getting them off was a mess. My hair is so fine that it was catching onto the curles being removed as Ms. Betty was taking them out. Ms. Betty's been doing my hair since I was 2, and my mom was telling stories all over the salon that I used to run around this place singing my ABCs. It was getting to be 5 on the dot, and Ms. Betty wanted to make more adjustments, but fuck it, my hair was beautiful even it was relaxing faster than a rate we could combat it. My mom sped home, but there were slow people in front of us the whole way. Traffic was so bad on the last road we pulled into the firehouse to park instead of my driveway. I told my mom to go around and park in the driveway so I wouldn't have to hobble in my heels across the grass, but she declined. I rushed into my dress, my mom is incompetent at clasping things shut. I had watched a youtube video earlier how to apply smokey eye, and hallelujah I had, because I did not have time to find out how. Jumping into my shoes and shuffling outside for quick pictures, we sped over to Steve's and took more pictures there. The limo driver, Pat, could not find us, but it was alright conversation until then. In the time spent waiting, we crafted a bootineer for Steve out of a handy carnation and some baby's breath from my bouquet that we taped together and pinned to his tux. It was legit. My dress filled my entire corner of the limo.

Prom:
Steve's uncle was the photographer, so he threw in some extra pictures for us. Our table was a power table, and despite Steve and I being the last ones there, I think it was the ideal arrangement. SHIRLEY TEMPLES! We headed over to the dance floor to meet with people and take pictures. People I didn't know were telling me I looked nice. It was unexpectedly pleasant. There's one picture where I'm getting "fingerbanged (Fonz'd)" by Dan and Steve, so I hope that one came out nicely. We returned to our seats for dinner. The utensils were so cold there was condensation on them. Joe M. taught us the neat trick of remembering bread goes on your left and drink on your right by making the lower case letters of your thumb and index finger pressing together at the tips. British school is like butler school. I had to request lettuce sans dressing, but those were some damn good croutons. Our table was good and waited to be dismissed by table, despite almost the entire area around us getting up without orders. We eventually heckled a server into letting us get up, though we did have our bribe money ready. The roast beef was unbelievably good. I liked the rolls (surprise!) and the mashed potatoes. After dinner, Sparks called out kids to the dance floor, so Steve and I boogied our way up. Once we got there, we were two of maybe 15 people on the floor, and we didn't know anyone else. I thought it would've been worse to slink away in shame, so we held out until the rest of our friends made it over. I was proud. Three songs later, we were told to go back to our tables for an annoucement. A colonial town crier annouced that the theme was "Post Prom Philadelphia 2010." Assuming it was 1776 Philadelphia, I told Joe he better watch his back. We resumed dancing, and I broke. it. down. Terribly. Steve danced a lot, and more so when Ching was there. I finally got to see Anna dance uninhibited, and it was AWESOME. At one point, too hot to dance any longer, I went outside to enjoy the cool night air. I had deceived myself about how cool it would be as it was outrageously humid, but still better than inside. I talked to Marty and Jason, and then a girl I didn't know recognized me. It was Corrine from the craziest 24 hours of my life. We hugged, and I was in shock she was here. We sorta reminisced on the only time we'd ever met and laughed. While walking back inside, I took a trip, but recovered so smooth the group applauded. After much more dancing, Lauren and I headed outside. I temporarily removed my shoes at the example of Jennica, but Lauren said she was gonna last it out. I said if she could do it, I could (though my shoes were higher, and I was dancing a lil' more actively). Dancing was occasionally interspersed by trips to sit down and one to the bathroom which I had not considered the logistics of my dress at all. The first slow dance was Amazed by Lone Star, and I could see a table of friends, and we were sharing profuse smiles. I don't know the name of the second one, but I was grinning for so long my face hurt. Steve jokingly asked me if I was having fun. The last one, Here's to the Night, we danced closer and I got sorta reminiscy. We hugged at the end of each of the songs. The last song was completely unfortgettable and Sparks Entertainment is atrocious. He should finally effing graduate. We rushed to grab our stuff and head out, even though we realized we had no way to contact Pat, the limo driver. Anxious as we walked out (me even more so because Lauren and I agreed we could take off our shoes in the car), we saw that Pat was right at the exit. It was AWESOME. We thanked him, got in, and my shoes were off. We opened the windows and had some good conversation.

Post Prom: We checked in. I looked for my dad. I got changed. I looked for my dad. I went into the auditorium to check out my poster and teared up just a lil' bit. Starting at the As, I went through and wrote on the people's I wanted to. Then my dad called to find and hug me when I got back to the Gs. People thought Jack's was really cute. I got a henna tattoo, and afterward, realized I got the same on last year in a different spot. My tarot card reader said that she felt school was easy for me and that there will be lots of academic success in the future, and a lot of changes in 3 months. Ooh. Scary. As I walked away, I realized I was wearing my HiQ shirt. My dad found me again when I was trying the "hit the bell" game. I got, like, 10, and then 15. My dad heckled me, and then I got 47. Katie D. chickened out on our agreement "I'll do it if you do it." I had a really nice conversation with Kira and Emily. Around 3:20, Lauren and I retired to the auditorium to watch the end of Rocky, which I'd never seen and still effectively haven't as he was only yelling, "Adrienne! Adrienne!" We were mostly talking. At 4, everyone was called into the auditorium for dismissal. This took way. too. fucking. long. However, as intermittent entertainment, Steve went up and told a joke. Then Eric P. went up and did practically a whole stand up routine on demand. It was hilarious. 40 minutes or so later, we finally got dismissed only to wait in line for our door prizes. I won a $20 gift certificate to California Tortilla. Thusly, Steve won a $20 gift certificate to California Tortilla, as I dislike Mexican food. I think my favorite part was seeing how much effort all of the parents put into everything.

Post Post Prom: My dad picked up me and Steve in a golf cart to take us to his car. It was the white van, so Steve and I shared the passenger seat. I was yawning a lot while recounting the night to my dad. We dropped off Steve. I got into bed at 5:40, which is when my alarm goes off for school. The birds sounded like heaven, and I noticed crickets. I slept until 1:30, but only got up at 3.

The Holy or the Broken Hallelujah

I've fallen for the hypocrisy I took up to fight.

In three months, I will not be here. As for now, I am discontent to love and be loved. There must be some extraordinary magic to my life that leaves me so blessed; and I am blind to action. For whatever reason, I've become intent on possession. To own and be owned. It's abhorrent for me to recognize. When did I corrupt my love like this? The world has given me a beautiful friendship, and I would rather make slavery out of it. How many moments have I wasted in cold jealousy of everything I can see and touch, but never have? I tell myself it's a shame these things won't be mine, when it is literally right there in my arms. I have three months to do everything I didn't do in the last four years here; it's a real shame to waste any of that.

Or as Ceci would say, "Betch, plz!"

"Betch plz...enrique is mine or mueno in spanish"

"You're obviously not using your mouth to talk when you're with Enrique, otherwise you'd be a little classier with your words."

"Enrique doesn't like chicks from juice boxes"

"Which is why he's with me instead of you Minute Maid. 'Cuz that's the longest you can last with him."

"Barbie called....she wants her dumb blonde back"

"She got the wrong number though. I gave her yours though."

Walk It Off

Whenever I'm in turmoil, I walk a lot more, but it really does help.
I've been talking to a lot more people and trying to keep my mind focused. I haven't napped since Tuesday, which was a terrible day, and I've been getting up before 11 to use my time wisely. I've been sketching and actively listening to NPR. I've eaten healthier and tried to be reasonable and maybe make people happier. We'll see.

"How do you feel when the person who made you the saddest feels sad?"

Sexual Dimorphism

There is no sexual dimorphism in blue jays!

Some of the best discoveries happen while you were looking for something else. Particularly like looking for a friend's phone number and texting an awesome random stranger instead!

Nobody's posted a blog in a hundred years. I'm embarrassed about my prolific posting to the point I may start typing these and not saving them for posterity's sake. However, I went through and re-read all of my blogs for 2010, and I think that would be a shame.

I kind of really like that the railing on my back steps is a set of old rusty pipes.

I'm going to learn to design a flash game (hopefully hopefully). It's primary function is for Gov class, but I'd also really like to get into computer programming and don't seem to have any purpose for it.

WORDS! Messenger graffiti websites like pictures of walls make me happy and inspired.

Waste of Space

Looking at my room, there are posters for awesome bands and movies, and a record player to capture all those sounds on vinyl. My feet rest under a keyboard, and my guitar and mandolin rest on nearby furniture. From the seat at my laptop, my awesome door mural is visibly devoted to quotes of all literary merit and cultural significance and art of my own design. There's my All-Delco HiQ Team plaque and NJHS chords to prove academic merit. There are dried flowers from the boys who loved me and a whole cork board full of memories. The picture from our AP Psych field trip sits three feet away from a picture taken with Matt.

Whatever life I had last June was completely destroyed by September. Since then, I can't seem to convince myself that I'm not a waste of space here. I'm very excited for college with the hopes that the larger pool of people will provide a group for me that actually fits. Still, I am the one who has hurt everyone I loved, so it's probably not the location. I've spent four or five weeks in contact with a National Guard recruiter. My personality doesn't matter so much in the Guard, and if I die, it will be nobly and unavoidably. I can enlist in July, serve my weekends, go to BTC next summer, take my personalized career training the summer after, and go to officer school the summer after that. Officer school acceptance looks good. When I took the practice ASVAB, I got a 96%, but only because I ran out of time on one simple arithmetic problem that was not making sense to me. The minimum enlistment is 8 years. During that time, I'd be paid, get health and life insurance, and they'd pay for nearly all of college, but no guarantee I wouldn't be [deployed] after two years. My dad says I should wait until two years into school to enlist, which is a reasonable consideration. The only real issues are I don't want to kill anyone, and I want to graduate from college. Jack has been considering the Army or Marines. I never ever thought that we could be a military family. Sometimes it feels like there is nothing else for us.

Some Questions, Some Rhetorical

What's the name of those images that you can only see when the ridges come together right? Like, if you're looking at it straight on, it might be a different image, but if you tilt it, there is a different image painted on the slats that can only be seen when all the ridges line up...

Why the hell isn't the news covering the protests in Thailand, like, all the time?

Why do we only cover poetry in sophomore year, when everyone only BS's what Mr. K. wanted to hear?

Why did it take me fourteen years to be exposed to good music?

Why had I never heard the term "moonbat?!"

D'AW!

No more gently caressing...

And no fucking either.

*Poof* Gone!

There's no time wasted in emptying the recycle bin.

What am I doing with my life?

Do I make people happy?
Do I encourage laughter and singing?
Do I make a place better for my presence?
How am I making life less hard for people?
Do I appreciate everything I've been blessed with?
Do I strive to improve myself and the world around me?
Where am I wasting time?
Do I create new and unseen works of beauty?
Do my accomplishments benefit others?
Do I remember times I've spent alone, or time with friends?
Am I learned every day?
What are the things that I admire in other people?
Why haven't I adopted or learned those qualities?
What are little habits I can adopt to improve myself or my world?
If I believe I am capable of worthwhile productivity, why don't I produce?
Where am I being wasteful, and how can I cut back?
Are there things I am doing now that will limit my time on Earth?
Does my creation have meaningful content, or is it simply beautiful?
How can I learn from the people around me?
Am I asking the right questions?
What stories haven't I heard? Why haven't I asked?
What music makes me happy?
What do I want to do before I die?
What collection of things make me special?

Germs do not go quietly

'If you find yourself lost in the woods, fuck it, build a house. "Well, I was lost but now I live here! I have severely improved my predicament!"'

"Listerine hurts, man, when I put Listerine in my mouth, I'm fuckin' angry. Germs do not go quietly."

"My belt holds up my pants and my pants have belt loops that hold up the belt. What the fuck’s really goin on down there? Who is the real hero?"

Vocal Disparity

It took me a long time to realize that the voice in my head doesn't sound anything like the voice that comes out of my mouth. I was first shocked watching a home video my brother and I took of an awful spy movie we made. I couldn't believe my voice actually sounded like that. It was most shocking when my mom told me I wasn't a good singer. I didn't believe her, but all of the voice recordings I took on her phone seemed to prove her right. It made me embarrassed for a long time. It didn't matter so much when I was in a group of people, especially the pit, because I can hit the right notes, providing I can keep up with the octave. Alone, however, I didn't even want to sing in the shower, but I would sing at night in my room. Now I have a better grasp of what my voice sounds like to auditory spectators. I'm also less embarrassed to sing. I try not to outdo myself in public because that's being self-confident where there is nothing to back it up and I'd look like a dick. But everyone I would want to be friends with wouldn't begrudge my singing. Although it's scary to share myself like that sometimes.

Thinking About Shirts

Whenever a shirt gets a stain or something, I'm less likely to wear it in public, even though the stain is just a testament to its duty. The whole purpose of a shirt is to protect you from "the elements," even when modern life has reduced those basics to preventing you from being splattered with chocolate milk or noodles or grapes. It would be a shame to be neglected because you were doing what you were supposed to.

My pencil is sharp and it makes me want to write.

Guy Montag

Nothing important is ever completely explicable.
-Madeline L'Engle

It makes me upset that Catch-22 is on the list of most-commonly challenged books, Slaughterhouse-Five as well. I can just barely wrap my head around objecting to the content, but there is so much of war and humanity and the end of innocence that these are the books that should be forced on children. "The Eternal City," chapter of gorgeous language and hideous imagery, struck me in its blunt appraisal of the sacredness of life. There isn't any. Aarfy kills a prostitute without regard. She's just another nameless person of millions dying in the war. What care is there for the sick and abused? Snowden dies freezing with only words for comfort where morphine would've been more appropriate. Even if there is objection to the story, the use of language is revolutionary in itself. The style and humor and flow of time are unique to the story and brilliant. I can't imagine denying any kid access to these books.

Stuff and Terrible Music!

The first time I ever saw a Sham-Wow commercial was during an episode of SNL and I thought it was another skit. I feel this is a satisfactory introduction to the product.

I haven't found a tree that I can climb at my mom's house yet, but I've been enjoying the creek (despite it being filled with trash).

On account of Joe's party today, I watched the music video to "Get this Party Started" and it was a great blast from the past. It also made me want to dance a little bit.

Aaron Carter was, like, 12 when Aaron's Party came out. Marketing music to 'tweens must be the easiest job in the world. "For now I won't sweat it, I'll just clean it up later." He couldn't lip sync. Lordie. It makes me ashamed.

I would LOVE to be the Britney Spears flight attendant from Toxic for Halloween.

I'm trying to figure out what the text limit on my new cell phone is. I'm at 54, so it's definitely above my last one.

[Edit: I got to 128 and decided to fuck it, because it's not like I'll be keeping that many texts.]

For the first and last time, a band concert was the least terrible part of my day.

Patient, Fine, Balanced, Kind

I've kept a journal for a whole entire week now. There are pictures and scraps of relevant paper inside, with very short summaries of the day. I'd like to keep it through the summer as a record of exploits and stories to be remembered.

One time post-Christmas season, I bought "Dinacell" batteries. I was pissed.

I'm terribly excited for college. People make exclamations about going to Temple, and there a number of GV kids going, but it seems like only the good ones who I wish I'd had more time with during high school. Who knows? My placement exam is Wednesday, and if I score high enough on English, I'm pretty sure I will be triple-qualified for Honors Composition.

My dad made some statements last night that I consider to be revelations. He sort of apologized for our fate, but that we are products of it and that we will ride it out.

I think I will title my surreal piece "Drifting Off," to imply three different meanings. One obvious. One related to the style. One personal.

I feel extra attractive today.

[edit: this morning I realized I have no idea what "humectant" meant on my shampoo, so I looked it up on Wikipedia. The information age is a wonderful age.]

Save the Music

ProMusica was MINDBLOWING. Somebody to Love is an especially challenging vocal piece to begin with, but there were some really phenomenal thrills. I gestured wildly at members, swooping my hand over my head in disbelief and giving the universal symbol for "head explode." Visually it was also very well organized.

Some performers blew the roof off the house. Lexie's Fine, Fine Line is a personal favorite on top of her impressive vocals. Taylor and Dan were silly sweet. Everyone loves Johnny. The last song crowding everyone on stage was lively warm with brass and acoustic guitar in a great ska sound. Sarah and Erik were delightful to the mix, with Kira and Mike's cameo mostly unnoticed.

Emily and PJ have such an easy sound.

I spent some of the evening hassling people who dare stand near the bake sale without buying cookies, "2 fo' a' dolla'!" In my years of harassing Wasiq, it would appear I'm a great saleswoman, though one not associated with Music Honor Society. There were many laughs exchanged through the evening, mostly at the charm of Kim and Melissa. Live music prompts some pleasant attachment.

500th Post

"While this is all saddening in my private moments, I do perceive it as a trivial, temporary, and inconsequential series of events."
- September 10th, 2009

"My memory is the thing I am most proud of myself for."
-September 25th, 2009

"She called me back, also worried for him."
-October 2nd, 2009

"He told me why we could never be together, even though my 10 year plan in Career Development was about us reconnecting after so long and moving to Dubai."
-October 9th, 2009

"I feel emotionally worn down."
-October 15th, 2009

"Recently, while on a Wikilinking spree, I came across the idea of 'anhedonia,' or absence of pleasure."
-October 28th, 2009

"I turned to Kira and gave an 'Oh No!' face."
-November 6th, 2009

"It's been suggested my family is genetically predisposed to getting hit by cars."
-November 25th, 2009

"It makes me feel unattractive that I cannot arouse a boy, who is stereotypically more sexually driven."
-December 4th, 2009

"I wish there was more for him."
-December 10th, 2009

"Paternally, my X chromosome is healthy except for glaucoma and a noticeable lack of "womanly endowment."
-December 17th, 2009

"If anything ever happened to either of us, I couldn't trust her reason anymore."
-December 23rd, 2009

"I'm very blunt, and my filter is a little more liberal than most."
-January 7th, 2010

I wish I'd had psychology this semester so that I could write Psych Journals to Mrs. G. again.

A Call (in)to Arms

"I celebrate myself, and sing myself"

I have been dishonest and immature.

"The atmosphere is not a perfume, it has no taste of the
distillation, it is odourless,
It is for my mouth forever, I am in love with it,
I will go to the bank by the wood and become undisguised and naked,
I am mad for it to be in contact with me."
-W. Whitman

I have never sent anything to PostSecret. But today, they had my words.

"This June bug street sings low and lovely."