Consonants and Vowels, the Consequence of Sounds.

It's Okay to Fall Down, It's Okay to Crumble.

2011-07-18T22:05:00.000-07:00

There are few things greater than that moment where you realize you know who you are. You've figured it out. Who you want to be. The person you are when no one's looking. The person you are when they are looking. That all encompassing self-actualization that all those psych professors have shoved down your throat thanks to some random man named Maslow.

There is nothing worse than the moment you realize that the self you have come to know is a foreign concept to you. You have escaped it. There is nothing worse than thinking you know who you are and having your reflection laugh in your (their) face. If you can't even figure that out, how do you introduce yourself to people? How do you come to know them, and them you? It's like the self is an abstraction from the brain. Yes, you exist. Yes, you know things, like the shoes you wore yesterday, who American textbooks told you discovered America, and the lyrics to your favorite song. But you don't really know yourself. We're all just... vessels with something living inside us that we never comprehend. Is it that the self changes, or that our perception of the self does?

Okay. That's it. That's all I can give right now. I have exhausted my intro(IN)spection of myself. PC

With a Rejoicing Mouth I Sing For You and Pause.

2011-06-22T00:57:00.002-07:00

I've begun to notice something. Well, not really begun to... it's something I've always noticed. (Warning: I am aware that I am over-generalizing here). Songs sung by female singer/songwriters/whatever are generally about men messing up things and how they're stupid and women rule. Cool. I'm all for the power of women; rawr. And songs by men are generally about how men mess up things and how men are stupid and they're trying to win back women and lamenting over their loss.

So, this can be seen in a matter of ways. One of which being that men actually screw up more often than women and that women are more successful in relationships. So, women essentially are blessed with an innate sense of patience in order to put up with the stupidity of the blundering men they date. And, men innately screw things up for a series of reasons; stupidity, selfishness, lack of self control, stupidity, jealousy, stupidity, narcissism, ignorance, stupidity, arrogance, stupidity, childishness, stupidity, stupidity... etc.

OR we can do a deeper analysis of the situation and come to this conclusion, instead: men have more humility than women. They can admit when they're wrong, know when they've wronged someone, and are not too proud to ask for forgiveness. Women are less likely to admit that they've been wrong, will almost never take the blame for a failed relationship, and are never humble enough to admit they're on the losing side of the argument. They are more accusatory than men, and also jump to conclusions.

So, besides Taylor Swift's "Back to December," I have yet to really hear a woman say; I fucked up, I'm swallowing my pride, I miss you, come back to me. So, props to T-Swift, I guess, for being one of the most honest and endearing lyricists out there. Also, props to her for writing her own songs. Cool.

Love is so fickle, it starts with a flood and ends with a tri-tri-tri-tri-tri-trickle.

2011-06-02T03:16:00.002-07:00

Return me to sender.

Been spending too much time with you. My brain has never gotten this much exercise. You remember things you should have forgotten. I wonder if you've forgotten things I'll always remember. It's weird. Funny. Strange. Sad. Each word you say is processed and every connotation analyzed and imagined over and over again. It's worse when you look at me; eyes hovering for .2 seconds longer than they should. Or maybe this is just imagined. Maybe I exaggerate, maybe it's only .00001 seconds, the kind you don't notice unless you're looking for it. Making it up. Wanting it. Is it so bad to want? I've never really wanted--everything was always just... There. Or came to me. I always realized afterwards that I was settling. Sitting. Waiting. Yearning. I have never ached for anyone before. Could we come full-circle? We've both changed so much. You were so angry and I was so sad and now we're both sort of purple; calm and cool like blue but with that fire (red) still inside of us. I'm a bit more like you and you're a bit more like me and I miss those stupid looking shorts you used to wear and the way you'd hug me goodbye.

"Fuck everyone." "I don't have enough condoms for that."

2011-03-02T01:57:00.003-08:00

All the women's restrooms on campus have a sign on the inner side of the stall door that explains what to do if you're the victim of a sexual assault. Thanks, Allegheny, I get what you're trying to do, but I don't need that as reading material when I'm taking a dump. I don't need to be reminded of the past every time I need to relieve myself. I'm not trying to make this personal, but I have found that I subconsciously avoid public restrooms on campus because of it. And for those who think I'm over dramatic, they can bite me. No really. Bite me. I want scars. I want to tally how many people think that something has warranted them to have a pre-established opinion of me set by one individual with a clearly slanted bias. I want the scars somewhere where everyone can see. It can just be like notches in a bedpost—scars on my body. I want everyone to realize that once they do that, they become a number to me. In my eyes, they have lost all humanity. Though, maybe they haven’t, because isn’t that something that makes them human?

I got some good advice recently, though. I guess. I talked to Dale about transferring and what he told me was "no matter where you go, there you are.” You can never really escape yourself. But if what you are in the minds of others has been formulated BY the minds of others and not yourself, how the fuck do you escape that? Sometimes, I feel like an assortment of people. My closet, my wardrobe, is really just a collection of facades. I wake up each day and assume whatever identity feels most appropriate for the time being. I find myself going about my business, constantly yearning for something else, something more, yet never knowing exactly what that something is. Saudade consumes me.

This campus, man. Shit. Once someone says something it is automatically received as truth and then passed on through the student body like hot potato until eventually the potato loses its warmth and something else assumes its role. One time, I was walking up North Main and these two guys were behind me. Their conversation still reverberates in my ears. It’s like a conscious reminder to always live outside myself, watching myself.

“Yo, did you hear about so-and-so’s ex?”

“Yea, I heard she’s fucking nuts man”

“I know, she’s real psycho or something.”

Thanks. So-and-so’s ex just happens to be me. I felt like turning around and saying “HI, I’m the girl you’re talking about. Nice to meet you!” But then, well, wouldn’t that just reiterate the fact that I’m apparently nuts? So I didn’t say anything. I went the rest of the day absolutely on the edge of my seat, no the world, waiting for it to spin fast enough to tip me over and spit me out. Too bad they were wrong when they thought the world was flat.

Everyone’s life is like a fucking kaleidoscope. Or a Rorschach inkblot. For real. You can make whatever the fuck you want out of it, but someone else is always going to see it in a different light and no one ever knows exactly what it is. Except the artist. So fuck everyone who thinks that their opinion is the be-all-end-all. Fuck everyone who thinks they can shape other people into whatever they have projected them to be. My inkblot is a dancer, consumed with her dance, ignoring all of the assholes in the audience. What's yours?

I, I feel like, I wouldn't like me, if I met me.

2010-08-16T21:30:00.001-07:00

Don't you worry,
There's still time.

I ask for problems. I enjoy conflict and I can never be content. Or maybe I'm just overly sensitive which leads to me trying to cause/causing problems. Or, maybe, I'm trying to hard to have a "normal" amount of emotion and it leads me to be overly sensitive therefore leading me to try to/cause problems? Or maybe I think too much. Well, that one shouldn't be a maybe ...it's a definite. Jeez. I never cut myself a break.

Michael keeps talking about how he lives in the present, the "here and now" and I just wish that I could. However, my body's caught in the limbo that Something Corporate's lead singer describes with the line "the present's just a pleasant interruption to the past," from their masterpiece of a song "Konstantine." See, my perception is that if we truly believe that we are "blank slates" or "tabula rasa" if you so choose, then our past is what makes our present and therefore we are all just big god damn mirrors reflecting the ideologies of our past. Right? Then why does history repeat itself? Hell, why do we repeat ourselves?

Gah. It seems like lately I can't get anything right. When I'm upset about something and I don't want to talk about it, Michael will do nothing but ask me to talk about it. BUT, when I'm upset about something and all I want is for him to ask me to talk about it... He doesn't. Do I send off that mixed of signals? Or do I not get upset correctly? There's a lot of things I don't do correctly. Maybe, though, it's the more you don't want to talk about something that makes the need to greater. I don't know. I think I'm just scared of everything, including myself and my own thoughts and escalators. I'm really afraid of those.

However, when Michael was in the city with me, I rode one for the first time since I can recall since the age of 3 (out of complete, desolate necessity.) Maybe there are other things I could do with Michael that I don't necessarily recall doing recently. Maybe there are other fears I can breach.

Does anyone else ever feel like it's possible that they're not real? Or, that they're floating in a reality that is the same on the outside as everyone else's, but their inner reality is entirely different? Maybe it just falls under the "no two people are the same" clause. Maybe we all just live in our own little niches of reality.

There's a lot of freakin' maybes in this post. Ambiguous, much?

IIX.

2010-07-15T16:25:00.003-07:00

It still brings me happiness to know that I've never needed anybody. I thank you for teaching me that, though you never got the lesson yourself. I thank you for teaching me how to love, how to open myself completely, even though I hadn't til after the fact. I thank you for teaching me to know how it feels to be loved unconditionally, even though there were conditions. I thank you most importantly for leaving me, so that I could reach the place that I'm now in. I thank you for seeing that you weren't worth my time, and sacrificing me.

Ed a lei che m'innamora conta i palpiti e i sospir.

2010-06-30T18:44:00.005-07:00

Fill in my holes.

It's funny. You can alter any thing the way you wish because you choose to see things the way you do, consciously or subconsciously. I was thinking about musicals the other day--how you can just sit and listen to a soundtrack and imagine the story happening... almost like, reading a book. The mind continues to amaze me. How we can see things we've never seen before just with written and auditory aid. Phenomenal. Just, phenomenal.

There Are Days that Drift Away Like Our Endless Numbered Days.

2010-06-28T19:08:00.004-07:00

I'm myself again. This is cool. Singing Say Anything, smiling, driving fast with the windows down. You know what moments I love? When you pull into a driveway or a parking lot and your favorite song comes on and you keep the car running just so you can hear the remainder of the song. Yea, I savor those moments. Especially when there are other people in the car. There were no other people in my car, and it wasn't even too good of a song - but it was good enough to stay. I'm loving music again.

It's been a long day. Had an appointment at 1:30, got there at 1:20. They were out to lunch and so the lovely man I met who hardly spoke English but was fixing their toilet and I waited patiently outside as they opened the door at 1:36. I was first to sign in, followed by four others who appointments were after mine. However... they were all seen before me. The staff was also unbearably rude and I found myself not wanting to counter their behavior. I was a little miffed by the time I actually saw the doctor (2:16) but he was a sweetheart, so just that simply made it okay. When I was waiting in the waiting room, I was given the opportunity to scavenge the room with my eyes - I found myself giving one idle object the center of my attention; a potted plant. Not just any potted plant, it had a sign. The sign said:

"Please do not throw garbage in my pot. Thanks, the plant."

I wish I could put a sign on the world saying:

"Please do not spill oil in my ocean. Thanks, the world."

Could life be that simple? I doubt it - I'm sure someone would come up with some reason for their error, some meaningless justification.

"Please do not put knives in my back. Thanks, the human."

"Please do not put thorns in me. Thanks, the pride."

Etc, and so forth. If only we all had big signs on us, telling people what not to do. Things they should already know not to do. Things no one should do, but they do anyway.

I came to a realization today. I am on speaking terms with everyone person who has ever hurt me, emotionally. To be more specific, I'm friends with every boy I've ever dated, minus one. The one from the only relationship that I proactively ended myself. This can be seen in two ways. I can either be seen as a very forgiven person or a fool (some consider the two synonymous), or I can be seen as a rather hurtful person. I'd prefer the former and not the latter, obviously. I think human behavior is so fascinating. How we respond to everything and how everything responds to us. It's like we're all neurons, and the country, no the earth is our body. We all act together, for, against, and in sync.

A conversation (a non-related sequel):
A: Together or separate? (B and C exchange awkward glances)
B and C: Separate.
A: Oh... sorry.
C: Well, that was weird.
D. Yea...
B: Yup.

Apaciguamiento.

2010-06-27T13:05:00.007-07:00

Everyone's changed. I know people commonly say that they don't like change, but it's not that. It's everyone. I don't know my friends anymore. They're all too busy having sex, being Susie-homemakers at much too young of age, or hanging out with the "wrong" crowds. I guess I've changed as well, and maybe my change has altered my perceptions of them. I'm on a new medication, well... several new medications. To start off, I'm now on methylprednisolone - it's a corticosteroid meant to relieve and prevent inflammation. This new medication has brought me to finally experience what it's like to not have a headache for the first time in my entire life. It was glorious. I've only got three more days of it after today, though, and one refill for if it ever gets to be unbearable (though it almost always is). Next, I move onto Neurontin, an anti-convulsant. It was originally used for treatment of epilepsy but studies have shown that it can be used to stop neuropathic pain. Cool. I take that once at bedtime once my Medrol is finished. Wee. I also have a new migraine prescription.

Oh, did I mention I don't have Lupus? Well, at least, ONE test said I didn't. Afterwards? I go see the neurologist and he orders ANOTHER ANA PANEL because he doesn't BELIEVE that test. Though, he now throws "Sjogrens" onto the table. I guess I should explain why I'm seeing the neurologist. This is my brain (on the right):

That little maroon thing? That's my cerebellum. It sticks out of the bottom of my skull, extending 5-6mm into my spinal chord because it doesn't fit in my head. This can obstruct the flow of fluids such as CSF (cerebro-spinal fluid), blood, etc and so forth, causing an array of symptoms such as; neck pain, chronic headaches, loss of balance and coordination, muscle weakness, fatigue, etc.

My problem is that my symptoms can be due to Chiari, or it can be due to my POSSIBLE Lupus, Sjogrens, or some other autoimmune disorder, or quite frankly I might just be depressed. I personally believe that my depression stems from whatever's ailing me as well as the hormone disorder caused by PCOS (Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome). Anywho, there's quite a lot on the table. Eventually, I may get brain surgery (skull decompression) during which they would cut out part of the base of my skull, expanding the space where my cerebellum is protruding, allowing it to be freer and less pressurized, therefore alleviating the flow of fluids to and from my brain. Upcoming doctor appointments in chronological order; dermatologist, neuro-opthamologist, gynecologist, neurologist, rheumatologist, general practitioner. I'm also receiving b12 shots (finally), which I think may actually be helping.

All in all, the cycle continues. While I'm upset that the allegedly "definite" diagnosis was pulled off the table, I'm glad that everything is finally coming into light. I feel closer to an answer. I feel closer to life. Also, my parents are thinking less and less that I've made all this up as evidence continues to build in my favor. We shall see.

I pray that we shall see.

I've Got a Span of Attention as Long as My Teeth.

2010-06-15T10:54:00.004-07:00

The months they don't matter,
it's the days I can't take.

Can August be here any sooner? My body aches to rest in a new bed. My feet want new floors on which to tread. My mind wants new opportunities to be bold, and my hand wants someone new to hold. It's Mid-June, I've been home a month, and still somehow it doesn't feel like home. I went through old photographs this morning - that was sweet. A time without disease. I was free. I wondered if I felt the pain then, but was too young to notice, too free to care? Maybe I'm looking for excuses. Anti-depressants... I don't know if they're working, or if it's just me being away from school. Is it the thing I love most that makes me suffer? Maybe I'm not meant for human contact. Rehearsals for the play have started, just like the summer before, and the one before that, and soon I'll lose my identity into the crowds of flowing individuals with the vitality for the stage. I wish I had the energy I once did. I hope this experience brings it back.

I find out on Saturday whether or not I'm getting brain surgery. I want it more than you could possibly ever believe. ...That sounds weird, doesn't it? Last night, I couldn't feel my limbs. They were numb, yet they tingled, like thousands of tiny ants were pouring through my veins. They weighed more than cinderblocks and I felt trapped in my small twin bed. If I could make the headaches stop, I can finally be free. I am flawed if I'm not free. I've been thinking about tattoos, but the lack of fiscal flow doesn't help that much. Maybe in the Winter. Yea, maybe in the Winter.

This past week was so busy. Saturday night I went to Yael's to watch a movie, then got a message from Maressa asking me to go clubbing with her and Chris. "Sure, why not?" I thought to myself. Lately, I've been seizing any opportunity to escape my own skin, to shed like that snake in my 10th grade Bio class. The club was practically empty. Maressa suggested we go to the city (as a joke), Chris took her seriously, and we found ourselves, $64.95 later, on the LIRR Manhattan bound at 1 in the morning. Hmm. I guess this will suffice. We stayed there til 4:43 AM, basically doing nothing but roaming, ate some pizza, ate some gelato, and met some drunk men waiting in Penn Station who decided to eat Maressa's said gelato. They happened to be taking the same branch and joined us on our early morning train adventure, accompanied by a 50-60 something year old drunk man who spilt beer on my ripped black leggings. To say the least, an interesting experience was had. We then decided to go to the beach for an hour or so, before finally making it home at approximately 8:14 AM.

I want to do that again. Maybe more thought out, but something of the sort. Maybe I'll do it alone, but that's not all too safe. Maybe I'll wait for Erin to come, if she is actually coming. Sometimes, I feel like everyone is just make believe. Or maybe I don't exist. Call it existential, maybe I was Camus in a past life. I did relate exceedingly well with The Stranger. Who knows? I sure as Hell don't (obviously). When do I ever know anything? When does anyone?

Let me be the one who treats you right...

Butterflies Are Free, Why Aren't We?

2010-06-08T10:31:00.000-07:00

I knew the day you met me,
I could love you if you let me,
Though you touched my cheek
And said how easy you'd forget me,
You said, "Butterflies are free,
And so are we."

I saw a white butterfly after the test results and the car going on fire.

Stand Still, Look Pretty.

2010-06-01T15:36:00.004-07:00

I'm having too many revelations lately. I don't think I know how to love, or maybe I just don't know what it is. I'm not all too sure, but then again I'm only eighteen... should I really even know? I feel like my hands, body, mouth, brain, and heart have been through way too much for their minute amount of years. Who knows? I sure as Hell don't. Sometimes, I think it's a benefit to have been through so much. It makes me wise and have integrity. Sometimes, though, I find it a curse - I'm wary, defensive, and whithered. Damaged, many would call it. I don't have baggage - I've got a whole truckload. A moving van. Whatever you want to imagine. Though, maybe it is all in the imagination, huh? Maybe we just all perceive our problems to be a thousand times heavier than they are because they're ours. Maybe I haven't really been through much at all. Sometimes, I just feel cold. I know my body tends to shut down, in a physical sense, but sometimes it's more than that. Sometimes... it's everything. I just don't have emotions. Maybe it's the Celexa. Maybe it's something I ate. Maybe it's the fact that I lethargically waste away my days in the cocoon of my bed and then wallow for doing so. Maybe it's the doctors, the tests, and the phone calls. Maybe it's not knowing. Yea, I think it's pretty much not knowing. Or maybe I'm just crazy. All the crazy people never know they're crazy, though, so that can't be it.

I saw something today that reminded me of the time when I opened up the back door of my father's station wagon on a trip to Montauk for the weekend because I was hot but didn't want to bother my parents to ask them to open the windows or turn on the air conditioning. I needed air, I needed the breeze, and I took control. I did what I needed to feel good. I wish I was still so uninhibited. I wish I was still so bold. Though, I guess I'm still the same. I'm still afraid to ask my parents to do things. I'm still afraid to speak to people. I'm still afraid of everything... I just act like I'm not.

In the words of The Verve...

"No change, I can't change, I can't change, I can't change,

but I'm here in my mold , I am here in my mold.
But I'm a million different people from one day to the next...
I can't change my mold, no, no, no, no, no, no, no."

I wish I knew myself.

Vodka and a Package of Cigarettes (That's All It Used to Be).

2010-05-20T09:00:00.001-07:00

A conversation;

Me: Why do you never listen?
Heart: I know better.

Oh, You Are the Roots that Sleep Beneath My Feet and Hold the Earth in Place.

2010-04-26T17:39:00.004-07:00

What happened to the closeness we once shared? I watch the sun go down from the basement of the library and you sit up in your room pretending to do work. Our paths, they do not cross. Lingering stares and idle hands, words full of emptiness. Your lips falter to hide that sincere smile. I melt with a look from those eyes even from across the table of a crowded dining hall. You pierce me with your sharp words, your warm eyes, your meager laugh. The kindest of things seem cruel and malice from your brute body. A gentle giant, you slay me peacefully.

I'm Gonna Take a Freight Train Down at the Station. Lord, I Don't Care Where it Goes.

2010-04-12T15:46:00.006-07:00

I don't do this anymore. On April 1st I finally got diagnosed with something. Finally, the conundrum ceased to be. I have systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE). General symptoms include (see bold)

Arthritis

Fatigue

Fever

General discomfort, uneasiness or ill feeling (malaise)

Joint pain and swelling

Muscle aches

Nausea and vomiting

Pleural effusions

Pleurisy (causes chest pain)

Psychosis

Seizures

Sensitivity to sunlight

Skin rash -- a "butterfly" rash over the cheeks and bridge of the nose affects about half of those with SLE. The rash gets worse when in sunlight. The rash may also be widespread.

Swollen glands

Additional symptoms that may be associated with this disease:

Abdominal pain

Blood disorders, including blood clots

Blood in the urine

Coughing up blood

Fingers that change color upon pressure or in the cold

Hair loss

Mouth sores

Nosebleed

Numbness and tingling

Red spots on skin

Skin color is patchy

Swallowing difficulty

Visual disturbance

Yea. How my pediatrician had never put it together, I've no idea. However, when home on Spring Break, I switched over to my mother's general practitioner and upon hearing my extensive medical history he immediately ordered a certain catalog of tests that came to this conclusive fact. But, it's cool. I'm okay with it. At first, I was like WHOA. I freaked. Oh my God. This website says it could be fatal. This website says I'll be fine. This website says this caused it. This website says that caused it. I got sick of it. I turned off my computer. I would find myself googling it in class to find out more. I couldn't stop. Then I accepted it. It's still hard to tell people. What am I supposed to say? "Oh, yea, I have this disease that's kinda-sorta-gonna-kill-me-eventually but not for a while so it's cool! We're cool, right?" Yea. Mega awkward, so I don't do it.

Anywho, finding out was the best and worst thing that ever happened to me. Actually, something might have just beaten it for worst--apparently "anywho" is not a word. I'm pretty sure that's the most devastating thing that's ever reached my ear drums.

-

2010-01-26T12:46:00.006-08:00

I think I'm going blind.

Postscript: Have been experiencing blurred vision in my right eye for approximately two weeks. Almost constant. Was trying to put it off as if it was nothing because I don't currently have medical insurance... but then anyone I talked to about it was like "OMGZZZ YOU'RE CRAZY GO SEE SOMEONE WHO CARES ABOUT MONEY!?!?!" I care about money. I feel like I'm constantly adding stress to my parents' lives because I have so many issues, but whatever.

Went to the Meadville Medical Center for the third time last night. As usual, it was awful. They administered a cat scan, but nothing else, and didn't even ask me for an inkling of my past (such as my optic neuropathy and whatnot.) Anyway, they said they didn't find any masses or anything which is good but the doctor came to the conclusion of temporal arteritis. This, in fact, is not what is wrong with me. However, I was given 60mg of steroids and have a script for more but that won't be necessary.

Got referred to an opthamologist. Nearly had a panic attack because, once again, I don't have insurance. I saw the doctor anyway. He was really nice and did a lot of tests and truly treated me as an adult... one of the first times I've ever experienced that in the hands of a doctor. It was nice. Anyway, he told me to never go to MMC ever again and if I EVER need ANYTHING just call him and he'll squeeze me in right away. He's something else. He's an Allegheny Alumni. Vukmich told me that I am having an episode of optic neuritis, which is the general diagnosis for anyone with an inflamed optic nerve. He said that what I have is actually neurological in nature, not optical, so I need to see my neurologist and get an MRI when I get home because it's highly possible I have MS. If my eye sight worsens, I'm more than welcome to go back down there and get a Visual Field test, which I've had in the past and it has to do with measuring peripheral vision.

At the end of the appointment he looked at my folder and asked, "So you don't have any insurance right now?" and I said "No, but I will be starting a new plan as of Monday." He cut me off before I could say more and said "Well, let's do this. Is your mother a good cook?" I laughed and responded by telling him my dad is a chef at an Irish pub. He smiled and replied "Well, that was more than I had expected. Alright, well next time your parents are up here, have your dad make me a Reuben sandwich and we'll call it even. I'm writing this down at no charge. Give your parents my phone number and tell them they can call me at anytime, you can as well."

I almost cried. I called my father and told him and he replied, "I'm going to make that man the best damn Reuben sandwich he's ever had."

There are still great people in this world.

So, yea. I may be a little freaked out about the whole MS thing and still not knowing exactly what is wrong, but at least I know it wasn't just in my head.

Post-Postscript: I just realized the irony of my closing statement, hahah.

Ad Astra Per Alia Porci.

2010-01-24T18:25:00.005-08:00

There was a time in my life when if someone were to ask me who I am, I would not have an answer for them. That time was my entire life leading up to this year. This year, though its length is just short of a month, has brought me to the realization that we're not supposed to know who we are yet. And that that's okay. We are not alone. We are all just posing in this skin we were giving, with souls that flit about from one persona to another until we find some mold to squeeze our plastered bones into. Our pearl white teeth and candy apple tongues are just instruments of confusion and projected thoughts with no fundamental backing. Our nails that adorn both our fingers and our toes are full of the vitality, potential, and promise of a life full of miraculous events and wonderment. However, life does not promise these things, which we all will soon come to realize. We create these things. We, humans, youth, with our active hands and ample minds. We shape the present and the future by learning and modeling the past. It is those with the yellowing teeth and nails, life draining with every breath they exhale that bring our ships into the harbor in which they're meant to be docked. This is what I've come to realize. We are all just protégées of those before us. We are all different, and in that we are all the same. The same. Something that we all need to accept. There is no purpose to this rambling. There is no person I need to impress. I am not writing this for a class, professor, or other person I apprentice. I have no muse. This is just something my sporadic mind needed to interject into my pessimistic, cynical, dreary and horrible "prose." Life is what you make it, people. So make it good. If you continue to be the kid who sits in their room all day, never going out and exposing yourself to the green of the grass, the white of the snow, the clamor of people as they walk by, the joy on their faces, the sadness in their eyes, the exclamatory greetings they exchange with one another, then you my friend are choosing to ignore life, which makes you an ignorant fool.

I once ignored my life. I thought it was just like everyone else's. However, it's extraordinary. I may be a little behind in shaping it, but it's mine. So I can use my time however I want to.

I love you, grandma. Goodbye.

God Himself Did Make Us Into Corresponding Shapes Like Puzzle Pieces from the Clay.

2010-01-20T22:02:00.004-08:00

Blue. Like the sky hidden deep within my father's sunken eyes. The eyes I have loved for all the years I've been alive. Those are the eyes I would want my son to have. Green. Like the stem of a flower or the pines of a Christmas tree buried in my mother's weary eyes. The eyes that have evoked many emotions from my childish frame. Those are the eyes I would want my daughter to have. And hair, hair as red as the cardinals, as red as the pit of a burning flame. Children. Sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers. The first relationships one will develop with the world. A quintessential part of life. Life. Something I cannot give. Something I cannot make. Anyone can destroy life, but not all can create it.

The Stoic Look Upon Your Face Is Enough to Send Me to My Grave.

2010-01-17T23:05:00.002-08:00

Hello friends, today I give up on being alive.
In my dreams, I'm going to go and take a great big dive.
and everyone will applaud as they wait for me to surface
and as I'm slowly drowning there's nobody who could care less.
No one jumps in to save me 'cause they're all afraid to swim.
Well, this game is over, you're the home team and you win.
In lieu of flowers, please be sure to send liquor to my grave -
it'll be sure to keep me company through out my lonely, deadly days.
And as I'm slowly rotting in my cold and wooden tomb,
you'll all tell stories of the days back when you all loved me, too.
They'll lower me into the ground and like that, I will be gone.
Maybe someone will stand up and offer you a haunting song.
For days and days your brain will repeat the haunting refrain;
"My heart is dead, my heart is dead, goodbye sun and hello rain."

My Face, It's All Wet 'Cause My Day Was Rough. So Do What You Must Do to Find Yourself... Wear Another's Shoe or Paint My Shelves.

2010-01-17T07:12:00.003-08:00

Four months and 275.29 miles separate us. That's approximately 120 days and about 40 dollars worth of gasoline. Something else separates us, though. Something that's stronger than all those silly numbers could ever be. Something greater than you, and much greater than me. Now it's up to you, I already fought to be free.

pray for me child
even a smile would do for now
'cause I'm all alone again
crawling back home again
stuck by the phone again
have I still got you to be my open door?
have I still got you to be my sandy shore?
have I still got you to cross my bridge in this storm?
have I still got you to keep me warm?
if I squeeze my grape, then I drink my wine
'cause if I squeeze my grape, then I drink my wine
oh, 'cause nothing is lost, it's just frozen in frost,
and it's opening time, there's no one in line
but I've still got me to be your open door,
I've still got me to be your sandy shore
I've still got me to cross your bridge in this storm
and I've still got me to keep you warm
warmer than warm, yeah

Back and Forth We Sway Like Branches In A Storm.

2010-01-16T13:18:00.005-08:00

I have three favorite colors. This is only coincidental that I like to do/have everything in threes whenever possible. However, you can only see two of the three colors that I love, leaving approximately a 33.3% chance that you won't love me. Factor in your love for music and guitars, seeing as an artist's lover will always come second to the artist's love for art. You must also remember to factor in long drives, cheese cake, Stewart's Root Beer, Eric Clapton, and your best friend. Don't forget the miles of distance between where I am and you are, the number of walks we've taken by the water and the ice creams that we've eaten, and to add the number of friends we have and divide that by the number of mutual friends we share. Take some raspberries, kisses, hugs, and seconds spent holding hands and multiply them by amount of hours we spent spooning while watching That 70's Show in the quiet nighttime of your minute apartment. Take the movie tickets, dinner receipts, tips, amusement parks, and concerts and add them up and divide it all by the greatest common factor, love.

The Colorless Words Are Burning Our Heels as the Bright Lights of the City Fade.

2010-01-15T07:02:00.003-08:00

Sometimes, you're not that considerate. And sometimes that hurts. Sometimes you're the nicest person I know. Sometimes you're there, sometimes you're gone. Sometimes you're the easiest person to talk to. Sometimes, I can't even get a word in edgewise. Is this how I treated you, friend? Is this how the story ends? Goodbye, then.

Somedays aren't yours at all
They come and go as if they're someone elses days
They come and leave you behind someone elses face
And it's harsher than yours
And colder than yours
They come in all quiet sweep up and then they leave
And you don't hear a single floor board creak
They're so much stronger than the friends you try to keep by your side
Downtown, downtown
I'm not here, not anymore
I've gone away
Don't call me don't write

To Sing the Blues You've Got to Live the Tunes and Carry On.

2010-01-13T05:30:00.007-08:00

Carry on, love is coming, love is coming to us all.

Love, my fickle friend. Love. This is when I retract all the hurtful statements uttered from my mouth back in early Autumn of the year prior to the days in which we live now. This is when I used my fingers as a more sufficient orifice to express myself fully to you in the way that you deserve. This is when I wish these fingers could just touch your hand, body, face, instead of this cold and lifeless keyboard in order to appropriately transfer love from myself to you. This is when the synapses in your brain will trigger memories that spring happiness and elation coursing through your veins, much like an adrenaline rush. This is when we run to one another and embrace, not letting go, making up for the time we lost when we were however many miles away. This is when our lips meet, an exchange of souls as the native used to believe, now an under appreciated declaration of love. This is when we sing songs and make new harmonies, forgetting the melodies we knew so long ago. This is when my eyes open and my body joins those who have awakened, but my mind still lingers to my dreams.

Do I have to fall asleep with roses in my hand?
Baby, would you get them if I did?

Love-ology.

2010-01-04T01:35:00.001-08:00

Nobody sings it better than Regina Spektor in "Love-ology." Life. Love. Forgiveness. Regret. Most importantly, love.

My phone battery is probably going to die right after I publish this but I had to express that.

Let's go to the movies
I will hum you a song about nothing at all...

We Could Have Had It All, But Then Nothing is Fair

2010-01-02T13:07:00.004-08:00

I can't deal with what you have done
Reincarnate I wonder who I might become
With the potential of a loaded gun
I could be as fresh as hard bubble gum
I don't have nothing, now I want me some
First some of you, then some of everyone

Oh darling since you've been away from me
I know how the pins feel in the bowling alley
They say love is something you feel but never see
When I see you I firmly disagree
I'm just trying to be all that I can be
Without destroying you
Or joining the army

I hope you can hear me.

Why Can't I Just Rewind, Why Can't We Just Rewind, Why Can't We Just Rewind?

2010-01-01T23:45:00.004-08:00

It's not that you lost a friend

I just need some time to lick my wounds

I'll be out of service for a little while

I'm sure I'll be up and running soon

If only back then I could have found the words that plague my mind now. Love. But would it have changed anything? What's the point in reminiscing and letting all the nostalgia get to me, convincing myself if I could go back and change it? That's my problem, the past. I'm always haunted by it, and always make it 100% my fault. Things no one should ever have to go through...100% my fault.

This is me, this is who I am.

I've never been one to put myself out there and now that I have I am suffering from so much anxiety. I honestly hadn't had any episodes of optic neuropathy for a long, looong time, I really had forgotten what they were like. Until now. I feel like blood is leaking out of my brain and let me tell you, it is one of the most scariest experiences someone could ever go through. As of right now, this is a constant for me. Awesome. Maybe I'm incapable of love. Or, healthy love. Unconditional love. Fucked up. By yours truly.

It's A Bittersweet Symphony, This Life...

2009-12-31T23:56:00.003-08:00

I wish someone would explain to me what exactly this phenomenon of New Year really is. New year...is really just the present. I don't understand how so many people hope to reinvent themselves and change just because the last digit (or in this case, the last two digits) of the year in which we live changed. If you go by that logic, that idea of change, why is the changing of months or days not noteworthy? Just because a year is longer? This is something I never fully grasped because if there are so many things you want to change, then get yourself together and change them. If you want to lose weight, start losing weight. If you want to give up an addiction, such as smoking or drinking, then give it up. Right now. Today. Don't waste those months, days, hours, minutes, seconds leading up to the New Year just so that you can put a reasoning to your path to fulfillment. Do it now. Be your own reason. I know it's relatively redundant to say "do it now" when today is in fact the first day of this new year, but whoever is reading this may or may not be living in that moment anymore. I don't understand why people can't better themselves on a day-to-day basis, living in the moments that encompass their chronological travelogue. I'm not trying to be too critical, because I truly think it's awesome that everyone is attempting to follow their resolutions and whatnot but for the most part it's all words with no action. If there's something you'd like to change you can do that any day, any time, any how. Not just because the year changed, but because you've changed.

There Was A Time When I Trusted Everyone, There Was No Place I Would Not Go.

2009-12-29T23:43:00.004-08:00

all my life

all my love is there

wish that love

love was all it took to get me home

all I needs a moments grace

so I just got to see your face

thats all

pull my head between my knees

the earth might crack

the sky might freeze

thats all I'm asking for

just let me go

One way or the other

I will feel your touch again

I got disconnected

but I still heard everything

So, I've made a few mistakes. But that's okay, right? People can look past mistakes. Because mistakes are really just errors in all humans. We are designed to be flawed. However, the actions we take to make up for these flaws is what should truly be measured in the end...right? Or are we all just destined to be a catalog of mistakes, and our attempts to manifest a proper justification and retribution for them should just be regarded as worthless and futile..?

I’m a failure on a journey, but my strength is gathering

And it’s only fair that I make it there, yeah, I’m on my way to mattering

But all the way, on the way, I couldn’t contain my fear

My lips only look rosy cuz my skin looks so white in here

Shred up my fingers on this bottle cap that won’t twist off

Aching for the syrup that could cure me of this hacking cough

Ask me how I’m feeling and I’ll say Im okay

though my mind is reeling, can’t think of anything better to say

Is that what you get for running a yellow light—

Piss full of regret and a fix that doesn’t last

I'm a super-cali-fragile piece of fucked up à la I need a spoonful of something fast

The Script just came on my Last.fm. They opened for Paul McCartney when I saw him with Derek on July 21st, 2009 at Citi Field Park. He played 7 encore songs. It was a phenomenal concert...and a phenomenal day. Boy, if I could return...but then again, why return? Why go back to a day that happened many months ago? Why not keep living, without being haunted by a past shared with someone who doesn't feel for you anymore.

I feel cold. Shut out. Alone. Though, it's more or less what I deserve. It's 6/5ths my own fault.

There's a wise person in my life, who changed me in so many ways, who said to me recently "You can't change the past, but you can change the future. Maybe that's what you should start working on." And as he reached for my mitten clad hand in a suave fashion, we both broke the awkward with laughs at the faulty move.

I wish I had a license so that I could drive down to the beach. Just to sit by the water in the freezing cold...I remember that day at the beach after prom where Derek and I snuck out to the water and held each other close on a sandy shore. I sung to him "Wouldn't It Be Nice?" by the oh-so-famous Beach Boys, and he held my hand and we made promises about forever next to an ocean painted beautifully with a moon across the breadth of its wonder.

I don't know why I continue to live through the words of others when I obviously can speak for myself. There's blood in my mouth cause I've been biting my tongue all week... Stop that. Speak for yourself. Though, my vicarious life led through the verse of my favorite musicians really isn't all that bad, I suppose. It's quietly, and lonely...but sometimes that's nice. Just me and some songs and a good book. Chuck Klosterman, I doubt you knew that when reminiscing on your past relationships in Killing Yourself to Live, you were actually saving young, hopeless romantics like myself and showing us that not only life, but love goes on.

I've been strengthening my relationship with myself. Tasha and I have discussed many things (and many vivid memories) that have haunted me for years. I now know myself better than ever, and can give a reason to all that I am and all that I do and I feel that through those moments I shared with her I have grown and blossomed into all that my small female frame can encompass.

Now there's an indie cover of "Light My Fire" by The Doors, and I can't help but love it. There was a time in my life I could do nothing but hate any cover of any previously song that had any amorous or recollective quality in my mind. Now, I love almost everyone I hear! I think it's so neat to hear what people can do, and how people imagine things to be different than when they were first created. It's inventive and beautiful and sheds true light on the magnetic and magical artistry that is music. And life. How life can change and be recreated by one individual to the next. Because truth is, no matter how much you think you have in common with someone, there are so many things you could never see exactly the same. We're all different...shaped by different experience and different people, and all of these fall through choices we make.

No one is going to read this, but it felt so damn good to write.

Falling in place...

When You Got Nothing, You Got Nothing to Lose... You're Invisible Now, You Got No Secrets to Conceal.

2009-12-28T10:19:00.003-08:00

I saw the most beautiful thing ever yesterday on TV. Granted, I don't really watch much TV because most of it is garbage besides the few okay sitcoms, but I was really ridiculously bored. So, in light of my situation, I found myself viewing True Life: I Am Deaf. True Life is aired by MTV, and it's one of the only shows they produce that I can bear to sit through. Anyway, the show followed a teenage boy and a twenty-one year old woman.

The teenage boy had never been able to hear at all, and during the program received a cochlear implant that allowed him to hear. Everything was loud and clear the next day at school, and then he visited his girlfriend. Though he still struggles with speaking, he writes to communicate with her, and now she is able to talk to him and he can hear. He signed that when she said his name, his heart was racing. His father is/was a musician. The program showed the father sitting his son down, grabbing his guitar, and playing a few simple chords and melodies. Both the father and the mother simultaneously had tears running down their face as their son told them "I can hear."

The twenty-one year old woman, on the other hand, was able to use hearing aids to slightly help her in hearing what people are saying. Her speech was still off, though, and that was something she was very insecure about, although she was almost completely comprehensible. She had taught herself to dance by feeling the vibrations of music alone, which I think is absolutely inspiring. The program offered segments of her auditioning for the Baltimore Ravens Dance Team, which she unfortunately did not make. She made it through to the final cut, though, and went on to audition for the Baltimore Blasts's Dance Team, which she made.

I just have been thinking about the struggles that people go through every day, and what could ever have made me think that my life was bad. I can hear and see. My life could be so much worse. So, my grandmother's passing. It's really depressing, but that's what happens when you decide to be an alcoholic, and she knows that, too. All anybody in this house talks about right now is death, and I just want to escape. I've never had anyone close to me die, really. I mean, there was James's dad, and also my other grandfather who passed when I was 6...but those were never as personal as this. My grandma, the artist and the chef. The chronicles of her life could go on forever. The bar owner, the stubbornest woman you'd ever meet, but with a heart as soft as marmalade.

Thanks for all the stories, grandma. I love you.

And the Clock Upon the Wall Began to Glow...

2009-12-25T20:41:00.001-08:00

I honestly want to go to a foreign country alone for like a month. Have you ever felt like you wanted everyone to disappear and you wanted to be in a new world that's nothing like you knew with no mistakes or regrets or conflicts and just so much room to grow and expand and became a new, better, enriched version of yourself and be able to come back to the world you know and just surprise everyone with how much better you are and just show everyone love without holding back and truly loving and appreciating and accepting everyone and everything around you because you know what it's like to not have it and just I just want to do that…like being reborn or something. Or, I could sound completely assanine, I'm not sure. I honestly just think I'm crazy and that no one will ever deal with me and my crazy but that's okay. And now I ramble...like a moron…la…lala…lala. I'm actually a really positive optimist right now but the past will always make me cynical and all like NKLVDJL;F;DLS but like life is perpetually moving and things are always changing and there's always something new and exciting or something sad and messed up but it's whatever cause it's life and if you don't love life, then what are you living for?

Teach Your Children Well

2009-07-25T23:38:00.001-07:00

So, as many of my friends decide to solemnly part and partake in goodbyes, I am slowly regretting leaving much earlier than they are. However, I think it rather a blessing seeing as the change will hit me quicker than it will others. I'll be well-acquainted with dormlife, and will be used to being farther away with entirely new people. The longest I've ever been away from home before was eleven days. And now, I will be away for what surely will seem like a lifetime.

As I walked in the door after two AM, I was greeted by my father, who had kindly stayed up because he didn't want to sleep til I was home. He won't have to do that anymore soon enough. He won't know where I am at anytime. My brother almost went on a flight from Massachusetts to California, having never been on a plane, without even telling my parents. The only reason they found out was that they were expect him to come home on break instead.

Anyway, though it may seem rather egocentric to say this, or to feel this way, I mean it in no such matter. With my brother gone, and now myself, I don't know what will become of my parents. They'll have no one to worry about but themselves, no one to tell what to do, no one to really look out for. My mother will spend most of her days in the house alone eating supper in solitary. My father will have no one awake when he comes home from work to have nice, long, meaningful chats with. I wonder...will they get along better? Will they rely on each other more so that the cracks in their routines are filled? Will they fight less, seeing as children are so often the fuel of an argument? Or will the fight more often, seeing as there are no witnesses and no one they need to uphold standards in front of? Will they actually get the divorce that is so often flung as a threat during their arguments, seeing as they're "only together for the sake of the kids" and "if it weren't for the kids" and all the lines I've come to know so well? Will they actually move, seeing as they're "only here still because they didn't want me to switch high schools and go out of state" even though our taxes are outrageous? Or will life go on here and stagnate as if I were still present? Will they turn my room into a gym, or a room of leisure?

With one kid gone, it threw them sort of out of whack. Now the second, and last, is leaving too. Not that their job of "parenting" is over...per se...but, it's almost as if the job were done. Or at least, the major saga of it is. It is almost as if my brother and I are symphonies, and our parents the composers, and now it is time for us to perform. Will we be as they expected, as they have written us to be? I mean, surely I don't listen to everything they say, and I may have some accidental sharps and flats, some unexpected key changes, and a few repeats and grace notes...but I hope to make them proud. And if I decrecendo, may I crecendo into a beautiful catharsis of sound, and brighten up my performance. Hey...it may be corny, but I expect no less of myself. I know who I am. And I'm okay with her.

Do You Realize That You Have the Most Beautiful Face?

2009-06-23T13:52:00.001-07:00

This is my very first update from my new Blackberry Curve. There's a chicken and sausage quesadilla waiting for me upstairs, and I feel fine. I must clean my room...yea...about that. Oh well. Play rehearsals have been a bit awkward...which kind of makes them obnoxious, but whatever. Gotta deal. I'm a big girl, I can do it. There's really no purpose to this post, I just wanted to use my phone. I downloaded AIM as well as a facebook application. Very fun. I'm going to figure out how to upload things from the computer onto here...so maybe I can finally have a cool ringtone! This keyboard is kind of raised, but I'm getting used to it. Prom for Derek's school is on Thursday, graduating on Saturday, camping on Monday. Oy. So much.

Would You Tell Me, How Could It Be, Any Better Than This?

2009-05-10T11:51:00.003-07:00

I don't have a single entry on the month of April. Well, first things first - I started dating a boy named Derek from Comsewogue (Philippia's new high school) and I honestly couldn't be happier. I've made lots of new friends as well, and since he drives all the time we always stay out late going on adventures and such. It's a good time. Then, I guess, the show happened, which was great and all and stuff I guess. I dunno, even though it put so much stress on me, it was still my last show, and it still means a lot to me. Nicolina, the choreographer, bought me a necklace and gave me a thank you card about what an awesome dance captain I was. She really isn't all that bad, I liked her a lot. The experience, overall, well - it gave me a lot to walk away with. It taught me a lot about balancing being both a leader and a peer, and where the line is. It also taught me patience (kind of) and to learn that it's okay to yell at your friends, they won't hate you afterwards, and if they do, well, they're immature and it's only temporary.

I'm auditioning for Anything Goes at St. Francis Cabrini Church with Caitlyn, Catherine, Ali, Jacqui, Katee, and possibly a few others. I couldn't be more excited for the opportunity to do one last musical with people I love and am leaving behind in the Fall. I guess I'm doing Lytehouse again too, I'm not sure, and Taylor wants me to choreograph for LYTE. I also want to get a job...I don't know how all this is going to work, but I'm going to try my hardest. I really need my license. My dad keeps saying he'll fix the car, but until he does, I can't take my test. It makes me so angry. But whatever, all things will come in their due time.

Derek keeps learning more and more about the bad things. I love our late night talks, sitting in the backseat of his car with the radio on real soft - occassionally singing, occassionally kissing, constantly cuddling and talking. We learned last night that through all the terrible things in our lives, we both have had the same motto keeping us going - "it could be worse." I explained to him how I feel, because he worries and sympathizes for me, no matter how much I tell him not to. And after I explained how I stay so happy, he put his forehead against mine, and told me that's exaclty what keeps him going, too.

These past few months have really opened up my eyes to the friendships and relationships I've had in the past and present, and give me high hopes for the future. I am seeing the beauty in everything and everyone, and loving every bit of it. However, most importantly, I have learned to let things go, and to respect and love myself, and know that it's alright to stand up for myself when someone's hurting me, because if they honestly care, they'll still be here.

...

2009-03-28T22:19:00.001-07:00

I feel as if I've neglected you.

2009-03-27T20:28:00.001-07:00

"For beautiful eyes, look for the good in others; for beautiful lips, speak only words of kindness; and for poise, walk with the knowledge that you are never alone."
– Audrey Hepburn

empty

2009-02-25T18:05:00.003-08:00

we all learned about fingerprints in lab tech. the possibility of any 2 people having a single fingerprint match was like 4 quadrillion to none or something. that means we were meant to be different, none of us are the same. so in being different, we are all the same. in our difference. I only make sense to me. and I am different than you. so if my fingerprints never stain another thing...you wouldn't know. because I'm the same as you. but I'm different.

We Were Never Meant to be Lovers Just Fellow Late Bloomers Who Blossomed Apart, Who Blossomed Apart.

2009-02-21T16:10:00.005-08:00

Every time I meet a really nice person, it just makes me sad because I think of all the times that they must have been dicked over during their lifetime, but it makes me admire them for still being the ridiculously nice person they are despite it all.

We Will Learn to Feel Quite Clean in This New Skin That We Have Grown Because Our Young and Healthy Bones Would Never Lead Us Astray.

2009-02-10T10:50:00.002-08:00

I went to the doctor today for I've been feeling mighty ill. As usual, she noted the hair on my chin and asked of my irregular periods. This occurs with each visit to the doctor and every time, I get scheduled for blood tests (which I'm going for next week) and get advised to see a gynecologist. Now, it has almost reached a point of despair with how much I want to go see this doctor. My mother says every time that she'll take me, and never does. Which my doctor (who I love) pointed out today, by saying that my mother has said she'd take me on 8 of my past visits over a span of 3 years and yet no appointment has been made. I call her Dawnie D (not to her face, though. Her name is Dawn Dawson.) and every time I see her, she always has a story about a patient she treated in the past. This time, when she wrote out my blood test requests, she asked "What religion is your family? If you don't mind me asking, that is..." I told her that we're Catholic. She sighed. She said, "extremely Catholic?" and I told her that we weren't. She spoke of a girl she treated a few years ago who practically had a beard and had uncontrollable body hair. Her periods were so bad that she would lay on her back on the floor for days because she couldn't move. They were insanely irregular, as are mine. Dawnie D desperately wanted to put her on birth control to level out her hormones and regulate her periods so that she could live a normal teenage life. The girl's father, however, entirely refused. He was radically into Catholicisim and believed that if she was to be on birth control, she would turn into some sort of sexfiend. Dawnie D tried to keep in touch with the girl to monitor what was going on, only to lose contact with her once she became pregnant and a drug addict once out of her father's control. Now, in high school, she had been a straight A, AP student, involved in student government, honor society, and all that jazz. And now she's pregnant and a drug addict with nowhere to go because Lord knows her father won't help her. I don't understand it. If you're a follower of Christ you should want to help those around you, despite their sins, yet people's parents turn them out in the name of the Lord due to their sins, and turn their backs on them. Is that really the message you get from God? I sure hope not. That poor girl could've been a brain surgeon or something. She probably still can.

You said "Somewhere there's a box full of replacement parts to all the tenderness we've broken or let rust away."

2009-02-04T16:57:00.001-08:00

So, a few weeks back in my Health class, my teacher had us take three slips of paper; one white, one yellow, one brown. On the white slip we wrote something we had done up until now in our life - something we had accomplished. On the yellow slip we wrote something we expected to do between now and the age of (I think) 30. Then, on the brown slip we wrote something we planned to accomplish between the age of 30 or whatever it was until the day we die. Then, everyones slips were collected, anonymously, and hung on the board in age order to construct a model timeline of someone's very eventful, successful life. People wrote about graduating college, getting married, having children, starting their own businesses, become doctors, surgeons, politicians - you name it. They wrote of traveling the world and retiring, seeing their children get married, getting to know their grandchildren. My teacher had a student read off the entire timeline to the class. She then got up (I had already predicted what happened next) and read it again, starting from the back. As she did, she said "you didn't do this" and "you didn't do this" over and over again before each event. She ripped them off as she read - "You didn't get to retire. You didn't start your own business. You didn't have children. You didn't get married. You didn't graduate high school - all because when you were 17 you were in a car with a drunk driver and died in an accident." The message was clear, and through the senseless chatter of my classmates, I was touched. I wish this had been one of those moments where the whole room just went quiet in shock and sudden realization that that could happen to them, that maybe they won't live out all their dreams because of the stupid decisions they make now, but instead they were too involved with themselves and who's dating who and who went to what party and who saw that girl tear out that other girl's weave in the cat fight across from the cafeteria the period before. I was upset. I wanted these people to see how foolish they are, I wanted them to for once take the class seriously, not only for their sake but for the safety and lives of others. Once it happens to them, though, I hope they know. I only hope it doesn't resort to that. I pray to God it doesn't come down to any harm to them or others because of foolish, selfish actions due to their immaturity and irresponsibility. I can't stand drunk people. I think I may decide to live a life of sobreity so that I will always remain in a reasonable state to care for and nurture others.

He Doesn't Like to Share You, He Likes Your Hair Short - You're Not You, You're Not You Anymore.

2009-02-01T16:56:00.003-08:00

I was talking to my friend Matt a little while ago and he told me that his house has an open door and people are always coming in and out as they please. I'd love that, I aspire to have one of those kinds of homes when I'm older. I told him how that in my house, no one ever comes over. My own best friend (Ali) has been here probably 10 or less times, and I've known her for six years. That's the epitome of it all. If I do invite people over, they're shocked and freak out and say that they feel special. I'm so much more at home in other peoples homes. I call houses like that "in-and-out houses". I love them; the busyness, the constant fluctuation of the amount of people, the talking, the arguments, the laughter, the inside jokes. I think the uninviting environment in which I've been brought up has led me to have an excessive desire for human interaction. I just love the company of others; it's the only thing I attain any joyful sensations from (besides dancing and the stage, of course). People weren't made to be alone. I am blessed by such great friends. Thank you all for always listening and caring, and know I'm always here to do the same.

There's a Preacher Down on 24th and Farnam Street Where the Shattered Glass is Lying Always Glittering.

2009-01-18T23:21:00.004-08:00

So it's uh, it's about 2:30 in the morning and I'm sitting here watching the same reruns of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air that I've seen a thousand times. I really hate when Will Smith makes that psycho-angry face. He reminds me of a blowfish. I'm eating frozen popcorn; I was curious. It's really good...I think I may do it more often. I've eaten so much today, I feel so gluttonous. So much for healthy eating habits...they're in the same dark abyss that my sleeping habits inhabit. I read my friend's journal today, he's so selfless, I really wish there were more people like him out there. I really miss Philippia and Matt, and I know they don't miss me as much as I miss them. I know Phili misses me though. They're at snowcamp and things are always much harder for the person who stays home than the person who goes away. I always felt so crappy when people went away for periods of time and had little to no contact with me, but then I realized how they felt once I went to camp this summer. It's just...yea you miss them and all, but at the same time, you've got so much to do and have so much fun to experience that you know, you can put them off for a bit. I felt bad when I was at camp...I originally brought my phone around with me everywhere, it was attached to me as it generally is now. Until James yelled at me about it, I constantly had it on me. Once it was gone, I felt such a relief. It's like a release from all the social issues you have in real life. This is one of the reasons I still wish that I was taking formal dance classes again. I had my dance friends, and I had my general friends. Dance was a separate entity...one without all the chaos. No one talked about their personal lives, because it didn't matter. What mattered was articulately moving your body to the rhythm of whatever song was floating out of the speakers and into the hot air of the dance studio. Philippia discussed something similar with me, once. She wouldn't bring her boyfriend to Younglife (our youthgroup) because it would be like her two separate lives mixing and she didn't want that, whether that was selfish or not of her. We're all like that, though, be it work, a youthgroup, sports, theatre, dance classes, etc., we all have something separate. If you don't...I feel as if you'd go crazy. I am really touched thinking about this actually because Philippia wants to involve me in everything she does; school, Younglife, her snowcamp (that I should've gone to, I'm cursing myself as I type this), her church, her church's youthgroup, her friends from outside of school. I feel as if I'm allowed to do what not many people in her life do, as if I'm this link between these two worlds she's in. She's mah sistah from anothah mistah (and anotha country... =P). I've found today that when I'm plagued with issues and stress, I don't usually press them upon people, unless I'm either desparate for their approval or assistance, or want them to know for some reason. So, usually, I keep it to myself and just act like a generally frazzled psychopath. However, when I'm in this state, I really have little to no patience to those who choose to complain and complain and complain and piss and moan about the most mundane things to me. I believe I need to refine some of my social habits... along with my other habits. Hey, at least I don't bite my nails or compulsively lie.

This Double Life I Lead Isn't Healthy For Me, In Fact It Makes Me Nervous.

2009-01-15T13:22:00.005-08:00

This blog is going to be about relationships (everyone's favourite topic, I know.) So Ali was analyzing myself and those who I choose to surround myself with the other day, and the relationships/interrelationships I've developed with them. She referenced to a film called Elizabethtown that her and I had seen a few years ago in the theatres. The character that Kirsten Dunst plays says that you're either a substitute person, or a person that uses susbtitute people. Ali's expansion on this theory is that the only way a couple will ever be happy and work out is if they're both one or the other. If you have one of each, it's meant to be a temporary relationship. Originally, she and I both had classified myself as a substitute person, but now she feels as if I actually substitute others in my life. I honestly don't know where I stand. I found it interesting though, nonetheless.

Anyway, the majority of my close friends are in relationships that are healthy for the most part. I saw something in the hallway the other day that I feel is so representative of what happens usually when you're in a relationship; two best friends were walking with each other (girls) and having a grand old time, I happened to be behind them. Girl #1 (the one on the left) apparently is in a relationship. The boyfriend literally went between the two girls and grabbed #1's hand. He then proceeded to converse with her, and she giggled, giving him all of her attention, as #2 awkwardly continues walking next to them. Eventually, #2 slowed so they passed her, and crossed over behind them to be by her friend's side instead. Which is how it should be. There should be a balance between the friendships and the relationships, but this purely showed how relationships can ruin that for people.

You see, in my mind, your boyfriend should kind of just be a best friend who you occasionally make out with and that kindof stuff. They should be a best friend that you're kindof physically involved with? I guess. But in a group of people, they should just be a friend and on the same level as anyone else in the room. Fortunately enough, my friends (usually) do this. I've been around couples though that make it so awkward to be around, like the ones who are just all over each other and hardly even talk to anyone else and it's just like...why bother? Why bother hanging out with your friends if you don't even acknowledge them? Why then just not bring the significant other?

I don't know.

You've Been Tellin' Me You're a Genius Since You Were Seventeen, In All the Time I've Known You, I Still Don't Know What You Mean.

2009-01-14T17:34:00.005-08:00

So, just as an update, I got my first acceptance! This makes one rejection, one deference, and one acceptance! St. John's is in Queens, it's about an hour or so away. I already mapquested, and it's also only less than 30 minutes from both Fordham and CW Post so it seems as if I'll be able to visit a decent amount of people. Also, Jacqui is applying, it's in her top 3! So maybe I'll know someone? And then Ali could come down on random weekends and chill with us, this is all hypothetical though and most likely not going to happen. Oh! and they gave me $10,000 which I TOTALLY was not expecting, it's a third of my tuition. So that was a pleasant surprise. I've been keeping up with my resolutions as listed below and have generally been blotting down the random concepts/ideas/events that I wish to later blog about.

Is Someone Getting the Best, the Best, the Best, the Best of You?

2009-01-07T17:15:00.007-08:00

So, two Saturdays ago (December 27th) I went to the thrift store with Matt and Vox, and I picked up a necklace, and I feel as if it has been bringing me bad luck. I'm not one to be supersticious, but I have my moments. It's got some ancient looking relic on it, with a tribal image of some person and many symbols. It originally had two sets of bead strings as opposed to one and seeing as I prefer my jewelry to be relatively simple, I cut off one of the strings. After doing so, I wore it to Ali's on Saturday. Ali, Jacqui and I were supposed to go to Katee's but then she cancelled with us, so Ali talked to her boyfriend Dan and we wound up going to Kevin's for the evening. Once we got in the car, Ali wanted to try out her new GPS. So we hook it up and whatnot and then we go to the gas station where the man who barely speaks English tells us that he's putting diesel into her car instead of regular (turns out he didn't, but if he had the results could have been diasterous.) We type Kevin's address into the GPS and it winds up telling us to go offroading for about 2 miles down this road covered in potholes and it's pitch black and no one else is around so Ali turns her brights on until we finally reach a wooden fence thing and a sign that states "PRIVATE PROPERTY KEEP OFF." By this point we're both quite frightened and Ali turns quickly and we make our way back to the main road. She goes the way to Kevin's that she's familiar with and eventually the GPS reroutes, and a big white SUV with tinted windows decides to follow us an inch off our bumper, stopping and going at stop signs with us instead of after us and making every turn we did. Luckily, once we turned on Kevin's road the SUV went straight. I don't sleep at all that night and stayed up texting Philippia in Ali's bed. The next day things go sour with something that had made me happy, I won't go into details. Monday morning (bear in mind this is the third day I've decided to wear this necklace) I'm standing at the busstop and a black cat walks by. Now, as I said, I'm not one to be supersticious, but it was a bit odd. So, as usual, I beckon to the cat (which was only a mere kittin, might I add, maybe 2 months) when all of a sudden a big white SUV, uncanilly similar to the one from Saturday night comes speeding down the corner and runs over the cat right before my very eyes, without even stopping. The cat was surely killed instantly. Then, my bus comes, as my tearducts are slowly swelling with tears, and my bus runs it over as well. This was how my Monday started. I find out during the day that our choreographer has dropped from the show but we've got to stay after anyway (dance auditions were supposed to be held.) I wound up getting a migraine, fainting, going to the neurologist, going to the hospital, and finally getting home around 11:15. That's the gist of it. Then, I still have an entire Spanish project to do so I stayed up trying to do that when my printer, which we've had for 5 years and have basically never had any problems with, decides to do anything but print the picture I need, instead it: made funny noises, printed out blank pieces of paper, and turned on and off on it's own accord. And finally, yesterday, even though I didn't wear the necklace, I felt as though it was still following me. My English project that had been residing in Ms. Rena's closet over vacation decided to suddenly disappear within the voluminous concaves of a 3x5 foot closet. It wound up being tucked between two really fat books, but I made a complete jerk of myself looking for it and Rena was definitely not buying the fact that it WAS there and HAD been moved, until I found it, but being flustered and embarassed certainly didn't help my predicament. Yael wants to wear the necklace because she thinks I'm being ridiculous, I kind of don't want to let her though. She is tomorrow though, so we'll see...

It Will Come Again, But Baby Not Too Soon, 365 Days and Maybe a Honeymoon.

2009-01-02T17:03:00.004-08:00

So, this new year, this 2009, this number that's been branded on our heads upon our birth...I feel as if it is bringing many things. Graduation, college, life, maturity, love, opportunity, progression. So, hopefully, this year will be good. I feel as though something is missing, though. I didn't make any new resolutions or vows with myself, so I am sitting here, aimlessly pondering at how to better myself, and not because there aren't ways to better myself (trust me, there are) but that there are TOO many ways to better myself. And it leads you to think moreso of your poor qualities than things you can actually improve. So here it is;

Eat healthily. No more scamming yourself of that cookie or that meal just so you can shed a few pounds.
Always keep your medicine on you, and stop being so stubborn about relying upon something artificial.
Take your vitamin before supper, instead of "forgetting" and then never doing it because it needs to be taken with a meal.
Dance for an hour a day. Granted, with rehearsal days this may not be necessary.
Write in your blog at least once a week.
Write a poem at least once a week (this resolution is flexible though because sometimes art just doesn't come to you.)
Learn the words to at least one song you've never heard before every day.
Read a book for at least a half hour a day.
When the weather's warmer, go for a walk every now and then. Not to lose weight, not to see a friend, but just to walk around and think.
Write down your thoughts so you can blog about them later instead of saying "oh, gee, wish I could remember that whole concept/analogy/whatever I told myself I'd blog about!"
Stop illegally downloading music (unless your mother asks you to.)
Be the best freaking dance captain you can be. This is your time.

Americans Can Be Invisible, Too.

2008-12-19T16:19:00.003-08:00

For the past few weeks or so, I have been volunteering my time to help raise money for the Invisible Children Foundation (also known as Schools for Schools). Our school is raising money in order to build a properly functioning school in civil war/genocide stricken Uganda. I understand that it is a good cause and all but instead of focusing our time and money on helping foreign countries and their citizens, and sharing our "great opportunities" and "luxuries" with them...why not share those wonderful things with our own citixens? There are tons of Americans who don't receive what they should and who are empoverished, malnourished, uneducated and homeless. Why not fund for them and help ourselves first? I understand you may think of it as selfish, but in all honesty tell me this; would you help someone else's family before your own? I guarantee the answer is no. If your family was starving and homeless you would not want to help others, you would do what it takes to help yourself and THEN help others. I think it is easier for us to raise money for people we don't see. The children in Uganda ARE honestly invisible to us. If we choose to help those within our own communities we would be acknowledging the fact that it exists, but people are just fine walking down city streets and low income areas without acknowledging the poverty stricken people they pass by. I feel as if by helping other Americans, we will in turn be helping ourselves because we will see the difference, we will see the change. Everyone seems to be preaching "change" lately, well why don't ya'll put in your own effort instead of sending your pocket money over to some foreign people while many Americans will spend Christmas, Channukah, Kwanzaa, or whatever the frick they celebrate, hungry, cold, and alone. And with the current economy depreciating as badly as it is and unemployment increasing, it's entirely asanine for Americans to send their money to help those elsewhere when their very own neighbors need it. And I hate it that when I voice my opinion on this matter, the argument I always hear is "a dollar there would do so much more than a dollar here." Isn't one of the many principles and thoughts concerning CHARITY that "every bit counts" ? So, just because a single dollar would have less affect here in our country than in theirs, that means we should use it to no effect at all? Even so, an accumulation of money towards Americans would still have some affect, as little as it may be. It is not our obligation to send our money to aid other countries yet we do it anyway, which is very charitable, but this Invisible Children thing has become the "cool" thing today. Celebrities endorse it, so we do it. Celebritis endorse going gree - we go green. It's disgusting. I love seeing so many kids get involved with charity, but I've been doing charity work my entire life and I'll be the first person to say that it warms my heart to see the change I'm creating. To know that, somehow, through my hours of volunteer work, I may have affected that guy I just passed on the street or in the supermarket. To know that my money and time could have gone to some homeless kid in my school, whom which no one even KNOWS is homeless, and now no one will have to because our money and help have helped him. This season, (and always) help your fellow neighbor.

The Finish Line is Just Around the Bend.

2008-12-06T09:07:00.004-08:00

You be my princess
I'll be your toad
I'll follow behind you
on rainbow road
Protect you from red shells
wherever we go
I promise.

V2:
Noone will touch us
if we pick up a star
If you spin out
you can ride in my car
When we slide together
we generate sparks
in our wheels and our hearts

Chorus:
The finish line
is just around the bend
I'll pause this game
so our love will never end
Let's go again

V3:
The blue shell is coming
so I'll go ahead
If you hang behind
it'll hit me instead
but never look back
cause I'm down but not dead
I'll catch up to you

Bridge:
Don't worry about
Bowser or DK
Eat this glowing mushroom
and they'll all fade away

Chorusx2

to the mushroom cup
and the flower cup
and the star cup
and the reverse cup

walalalalala
walalalalalawaluigiiiiii

I'm Echoing All Your Philosophies.

2008-12-04T14:57:00.003-08:00

I believe the phrase is "it's funny how things work out." Replace funny with frustrating, and that phrase is more suiting. Even ironic. Nothing ever works out for me and my entire life I've been alright with that, but now I find it rather frustrating. Matt asked me today "Do you have good parents?" and I honestly was speechless. This house is not a home. My heart is not whole. I'm going to dance these dirty things away. I'm going to wash myself of these horrible creatures. I'm going to shake my nightmares, look them straight in the eye, and show them that I'm stronger than them. Except escalators. I'm alright with that. I am so flawed. All these cracks in me need to be filled, whether it be lyrics, photos, handholding, hugs and kisses, or just kind words. I'm spending a lot of time with Ali this weekend. I really love her. It's really nice. Honestly...I just want someone to hold my hand when I am cold. Jacqui's still convinced I used to hate her. I love everyone. Well, no, use that term loosely. I am useless, I am broken, I am me. I am all the things you projected me to be. I am the culmination of all the insults and berating that you've brought down upon me all these years. I am every scream, every curse, every hit, every drink, every cigarette, every broken thing. I am every cut, bruise and scrape, every tear, every night of no sleep. And I feel fine, just fine. I am fine. I like walking in the cold, especially when it rains. It freezes my brain, or at least I'd like to think so. I like to get so cold that it's all I can think of because I don't think of anyone or anything else. My thoughts travel far. I think I believe in God. I think I can learn to love myself. Or should I replace "think" with "wish" ? I couldn't tell you, because I myself am not entirely sure. I am the window sill I have stared at so many times on cold, empty, sleepless nights wishing to crawl through and never come back here. I am the barrier that lays between me and a better world, I am the mangled memories of yesteryear. I don't think you were ever happy, I don't think I ever made sense. And I know you're not happy now, and I'm alright with that. Just let me be that phone call. Yea, you know the one. I want to catch you, in the words of J.D. Salinger. You won't even see it coming. I'm just hiding...within myself.

There's One Thing to Be Sure of Mate, There's Nothing to be Sure of.

2008-12-02T18:49:00.003-08:00

Something I don't understand is the concept of altering fate. If fate even exists...then I don't really think you can alter it. Because, wouldn't fate already know that you're going to alter it so your fate would be a definite either way because it's your fate to take those actions? Hah, not that I love referring to ancient literature, but just look at Oedipus Rex for instance. End of discussion. If fate does exist then any action you take in the future will already be accounted for in your life's design.

Here's what I think, and I said this at Pinecrest and I'll say it again. God (or some higher being, whatever) ultimately has a plan for us. However, it's like a highway map with lots of forks and dead ends, each representing a decision and possible outcomes and spurring from that, more decisions and more possible outcomes. I believe that God endorses our right of freewill, however, He ultimately has a plan for us. I believe that each one of us has a life laid out upon our conception (which, again, was part of His highway for our parents...and the beginning of ourselves). In the end we are all just caught at the intersections of our lives.

For example, there could be a slow car in front of you and no way to pass him - that is a road block in your way to reaching your destination, something that slows you down, perhaps a lack of talent or lack of funds or whatever else.

I think I'm taking the whole highway analogy a bit too far, but I'm sure you've got the point.

Yesterday was Al's birthday. It was good. I made her cry (twice). The pumpkin cookies were a big hit. Musical preparations are starting (have started, actually) and the one song I can actually sing in the show is not one of the audition pieces (of course) and it really strains my voice to sing the other two plus I'm sick so I need to rest it but I really need to practice them because I don't sing them well (this is stressful.) I still have yet to hear from Fordham...and I sent in apps to St. John's and Post. woo. life just keeps whirring on by...

mjdhmhdtg

2008-11-26T10:37:00.005-08:00

doubting God's existance is okay and perfectly acceptable within Christianity as long as the person doubting remains obedient and committed to the Christian path.

- real life preacher.

Life is Too Short So Take the Time and Appreciate.

2008-11-19T21:02:00.001-08:00

I wasted so many pieces of paper on stats for PMC (Princeton Model Congress) today. Er, yesterday, the clock just struck midnight. hmm, I leave for Washington D.C. in like 7 hours, that's cool. I'll blog about it when I get home, yah.

Stop This Train, I Want to Get Off and Go Home Again.

2008-11-16T10:26:00.004-08:00

So there have been many things I've been wishing to blog about, and have thusly forgotten because this week was Hell Week. Oh, Longwood theatre, how I love thee. You eat up all my free time, make me fall asleep in class, make me sing songs and do dances in my head and not listen to a word my teachers are saying, "cut" class by saying "I'm going to lessons" when in reality I just sit there with tons of other theatre kids and talk about the show. You make me eat less, sleep less, and weigh less. You make me cry more than I ever cried and laugh more than I ever laughed. And that is where I feel that I am home. That is where I feel that I belong. In that dark auditorium filled with faces and voices and human beings that I love and that love me. People that understand random obscure references to shows, movies, or songs, or just plain old don't care that you're strange and know obscure things they don't. Ah, the stage.

On Wednesday we called a "mutiny" on our director. He wanted to send us home after ONE run, that was absolutely horrid I must say. But Ali and Jared led the crowd in saying that this is Longwood theatre, we stay until we get it right, this is how it works. You came to our theatre, we know how it's done. And we stayed. And the show went wonderfully. I don't really have much else to write about, I s'pose. I'm still kinda numb to the fact that I'm a senior.

"Narrow the Spaces Between Your Fists and Your Faces."

2008-11-03T19:48:00.013-08:00

I found it particularly moving today when Glenn took out a hammer and smashed a mirror in front of all of our eyes to show us how we shatter God's image that is supposed to be reflected through us everyday. I don't really ever think I've been that moved before. I guess essentially we all are just fragments of what we wish to be, like those tiny glass shards that are stuck to the bottom of our shoes.

The cop today that was a guest speaker for Driver's Ed wore a clip on tie...that was unclipped on one end. It seemed to cancel out the prestigious image he should have had among the youth. I don't know, really. And I'm tired of being called racist for not supporting Obama. No one's calling people who support Obama racist, yet a lot of black Americans support him solely for that reason. But whatever, I already have an entry on this.

Philippia is being kicked out of the district. I am currently shocked that her name doesn't have a red squiggly line underneath it, which means it passed spell check o_O; the show's next Friday, and I really don't even care. The director still has no respect for me, and still is suffering from poor judgment. I think everyone should begin to love each other.

This is the Sound of Settling.

2008-10-21T18:13:00.006-07:00

Alright, I'm not going to pretend I know everything about everything, because let's face it, I don't, and I'd make an ass out of myself trying to convince others I do. However, I do know what I believe in and what I support, and I support John McCain. I don't support Barrack Obama. Solely due to their political views. Not their age, race, or the gender of their runningmate. Obama has known ties with terrorists. Obama is involved with the highly corrupted ACORN (Dallas Cowboys team in Nevada...now really? seriously?) I don't support Obama's Healthcare plan. I don't support anything Obama has to say about the economy whatsoever because I'm highly Libertarian and believe in the free enterprise system, capitalism, and the damned government keeping out of it. (Some regulation is okay though...sometimes.) I agree with McCain. I agree with McCain's ideas for Healthcare, immigration, criminal justice, the economy, the war, etc and so forth. I agree with it all. But I'm not writing this to go into depth of my opinions, or theirs for that matter. I was inspired to write this because I saw this on the "Piece of Flair" application on Facebook:

I do not tolerate racism and all that jazz. So, by not supporting Obama, that means I'm racist? Because he's black? Wouldn't prejudizing those who don't support him as racist be just as bad as being racist? You can't stick a label on people that doesn't belong to them. I am all for the progression of the African Americans and other minorities, and civil rights, and if McCain was black and Obama was white, the rant above would remain the same. This election has become too much about selective social issues, such as that Obama is in fact black and Senator Hillary Clinton and Governor Sarah Palin are both women. I could give a rat's ass. There could be an hermaphodite with blue skin and I'd still vote for them if I agreed with them. There is no reason to call anyone not supporting Obama racist. Also, plenty of black people will of course vote for Obama because they are black, and many will vote for McCain because he is white, and/or women will vote for him because his runningmate is a woman, and on these grounds I feel that they should be the people being called such things as racists and bigots. Get over yourselves.

Contrabass Sax.

2008-10-20T16:20:00.005-07:00

Douglas told me today he'd like to play that. It's a Contrabass Saxophone, and it's 5'10"! It's taller than I am! I thoroughly enjoy jazz.

I've Been Trying to Nod My Head, but it's Like I've Got a Broken Neck.

2008-10-20T16:06:00.008-07:00

Oh, blog. You are just another artifact representing my failure to fulfill the things I set off to do, as well as:

doing my homework on time (and not on the bus.)
making my cat love me
singing at all possible times (well, I'm pretty good at that one, I must admit.)
quit cursing and saying "lol"
stop getting into political debates with others who will never respect your opinions.
getting to bed at a decent hour
eating healthily
spending less time on facebook
taking some photos

Well, I mean, I might as well update anyway. Cauchi finally edited my college application essay! He told me to use the word auspice. He wants to enter it into a literary magazine in February. Gosh, do I love that man. I wanted to hug him but deemed it inappropriate. 91 on Driver's Ed test. I think I have some sort of attention deficit disorder ... or maybe my extensive anxiety problems could causate? Or maybe just correlate. Causate isn't a word, I was really hoping it was. Still feels funny not being on the stage. I'm being Jane Jetson for Halloween ... I wish more people's brains had some memory stored of her. I went through old photos yesterday on the old computer... whoowee! All I've got to say. Everything underlined in red in this post begins with a "c." I should be writing my bill for PMC. A boy I hardly know sent me a message on MySpace today, asking if I was alright or something because answers to surveys in my bulletins were I guess suggestive that I had issues. I thought it was kind, but I don't know how to respond.

Another Year I Claim of Total Indifference.

2008-10-08T18:37:00.004-07:00

^ that was an ad on a website I was perusing today (can't honestly remember which one.) Those women are maybe, maybe, 5 pounds overweight, AT MOST. The ad made me feel ridiculous. And people wonder why girls suffer so often from anorexia nervosa and bulimia nervosa. If those women were any skinnier, they'd be unhealthy.

Anywho, James's father passed away last Monday. I thought it was really great how so many of our friends took off from college just to come to the wake and support him. It really touched me how caring people can be. Kevin and Chase drove from Fordham to attend the first wake, went back up the same night, then went to classes the next day, then drove back for the third wake and stayed overnight on the island to attend the funeral the next day. That was so nice of them. I guess it's good to know that deep down you've got people you can rely on. I've been in his mom's computer lab all week for PMC - it feels strange that she's not there. I found myself praying for their family even though I'm not all that sure I believe in God, but I hope I did some good.

My birthday's on Monday, (Columbus Day), I'm going to be seventeen, like the magazine. How exciting. The only time I read magazines is in some sort of doctor's office, and I really don't like the number seventeen...actually, I don't like the number seven at all. It bothers me it's the only single integer that has two syllables...a bit OCD, I know. I don't know how I feel about this birthday. Sometimes, I feel like it's going to be great, another year old/another year wiser type deal, and at other times, I feel like the beautiful Bright Eyes song, "Happy Birthday to Me. (Feb. 15)" This past week was filled with such strange things.

I'm glad I get to actually be a part of Rotary this year - instead of the random member that shows up randomly and participates in random things. For Safe Halloween, our theme is "Under the Sea" and since I'm being Ariel for Catherine's Halloween Party, I might as well do the same for Rotary. Also, Tri-M's theme (I guess I'm joining this year...) is Masquerade. Oh, it totally hit me I'm a senior today. We had to take the big senior class photo in the gymnasium today, and they made senior announcements and handed out the packets for senior trip...and BAM I was like whoa. And then I looked out in front of me, and Trish's eyes met mine, and we both just knew how the other felt without having to say it. We do that a lot.

This is it. Make it good, make it last, make it count.

The Castles We Built Were So Tall, They Only Left Us Further to Fall.

2008-09-26T13:53:00.002-07:00

I think my whole phase of pushing everyone away in my life is going away. That's good. My birthday's real soon, and James'll be home, and it'll be good (I hope.) I drove on a main road today, pretty exciting. Lime Tostitos Tortilla Chips make me nauseous, but I tried French Onion Sunchips, which were absolutely delectable. I had butterflies for the first time since July(ish) today, they were nice, I'd forgotten how they felt. I think I need to turn down the dial on being sarcastic, witty, and outspoken because I'm teetering on the edge of obnoxious, I'd say. We're visiting LIU on Tuesday and hopefully I'll have a talk with an admissions person, but I can't get through on the telephone so I have to email. These whole financial issues are silly. I might see Bye Bye Birdie tonight, I really hope I do. I haven't seen Aaron since Liz's Graduation Party, and it'll be nice to see Doug, Nick, Ryan, Catherine, Billy, Dannielle, and Caitlin in the show. Hope mom takes me. I keep changing my audition song. My brain still isn't functioning properly, and I've recieved horrible test scores. Doctor visits start soon (always around me birthday, I'm 'fraid.) All the excitement of being dance captain has drained from me because of Life on the Bowery, but I'm a firm believer in sucking it up and dealing and doing what you're obligated to do.

I miss Ali.

Movie Quotes and Lyrics Still Connecting Us Like Constellations.

2008-09-20T20:53:00.005-07:00

You can read the lyrics here if you'd like. I'm beginning to realize what an existential being I am. I used to have all these strings attaching me to people, to the ground, that kept me stable...and now I'm just floating away, grasping anything on the ground. Regressing. But progressing at the same time. I can honestly say I have never been so sure of, well, me, for lack of better terminology. I have confidence like I have never had before. And though I've got nothing "holding me to the ground," as I said before, I've got nothing holding me back. My mother offered to do something really expensive for me yesterday. It is honestly one of the greatest things that have ever happened to me. I'm living with Trish for a few days, and making new friends. Oh, and callbacks are Monday. I love Mondays, everyone else thinks they're obnoxious...they always feel like a fresh start to me, and 52 fresh starts per year ain't bad! My body is tired, and I'm singing songs of yesteryear in my head. ...While I sleep. It makes sense to me because I hear them in my dreams. I feel like writing but my mind is yawning. I wrote a poem the other day, it's good. Maybe I'll post a link to my poetry here one day. Maybe I'll do a lot of things one day.

And You Never Know 'Til You Reach the Top if it Was Worth the Uphill Climb...

2008-09-17T18:05:00.004-07:00

Mm, so the information session on the Fall Drama Production was today...it's really hitting us all that we're seniors now. Especially not seeing all the seniors from last year audition, and knowing that our underclassmen friends won't see us next year. That the only part of the play we'll be partaking in is the viewing, not the acting, which just hit Matt today (he graduated last year.) In any case, I (because I look very Irish) am, of course, auditioning for the role of the Irish maid, Bridget. This is somewhat more exciting than the other parts I could audition for because the Director, Dr. Weisenbacher, expects the actor who plays the character to actually have an Irish accent. I've been attempting since I got home, and I must say, me Irish ain't half bad! I'm also excited because it's a large cast with a lot of opportunity. (The show is Life on the Bowery.) Auditions are tomorrow, and honestly, I'm so excited, that nervousness has not kicked in yet. Today was the first day in a long time where I've gotten basically no homework. I'm singing a lot, again, too, which feels wonderful. So my parents wouldn't schedule an appointment with the orthopedist and now I've got to run the mile even though I'm not supposed to run at all whatsoever (this should be fun.) I hope I don't appear to be limping on stage, I'm real frightened one of my knees will dislocate or something. My other doctor visits are starting up soon, should be great, starting with a new kind of doctor I've never been to before (and one I'm dreading seeing.) All in all, though, it can only help solve my medical mysteries...right? One would hope. ...I hope.

We'll Hold Each Other Soon in the Blackest of Rooms

2008-09-13T08:44:00.007-07:00

Seeing you yesterday made my insides queasy. I don't know how to feel about you, but I know how I feel about me. I wish I'd never met you, I wish we'd never done the things we did.

In other news, I ordered a new book today! Nick and Norah's Infinite Playlist. I'm excited - I just found out it was a book before it was a movie, so I would like to read the book (it sounds delightful) before I go see the movie. I also added tons of books to my shopping list on Amazon - potential birthday presents? :D

I've also been thinking a lot on our relationships with those around us. My history with others is so involved and so sporadic, throughout the entire web of relationships in our High School. You know that funny feeling when you see people you used to be close with, but never talk to anymore walk by, and neither of you choose to acknowledge the other, so there's a series of awkward glances and avoiding any potential form of eye contact? Yeah, it's in those moments where the floor is more appealing than a familiar face. Also, lately, I've been rekindling relationships with some of those people from the past...and I'm not all too sure how I feel about it. It feels more like a step backwards than a step forwards. Accepting part of who you are is accepting what has happened in your past. You stop being friends with certain people for reasons that help your progression into the person you're becoming, so am I just regressing? I feel like I'm regressing. I just want that general sense of comfort where you know you're in the right place at the right time. Something about life at the moment just feels wrong...I can't just put my finger on it. Oh! My horoscope has also been creepily accurate since about May, and what's even stranger is I read it after the things it says happen, so it's not even as if I can subconsciously play out the horoscope throughout the day. I check it on both facebook and yahoo daily, and even when they're not that similar, they're both true. And I'm a skeptic, too, it's not as if I'm some devout spiritual person, I think astrology is for fools and entertainment solely, but it has been pretty eery. Anyone who's reading this obviously knows me, and or cares for me, and I feel like sharing this song with them. It's actually probably my favorite song, or one of the few. It was featured on Scrubs in relation to Dr. Cox and Jordan, that's how I first heard it.

Softly now, you owe it to the world
And everyone knows that you're my favourite girl
But there are somethings in life that are not meant to be
I'm not meant for you, and you're not meant for me
Here's to our problems and here's to our fights
Here's to our achings and here's to your having
A good life, from me

Softer now, you owe it to yourself
And don't think that you will be left on the shelf
Cause there's someone for you and there's someone for me
Like me, you'll meet them eventually
Here's to your lover and here's to my wife
Here's to your children and here's to your having
A good life, from me

Baby Baby Baby Baby Baby Baby Baby Baby

Loudly now, you've lost all your pain
You're married with children and happy again
Now I'm regretting the moves that I made
Fatal mistakes are so easily made
Enough of my problems they only cause fights
Forget that I rang you and promise you'll have
Such a beautifully happy and painlessly romantic
Good life, from me
Good life

I Want Life in Every Word, to the Extent that it's Absurd.

2008-09-12T12:32:00.006-07:00

The days still seem long, but college seems closer. I started working on my audition piece (which I'm getting very worked up about, I must stop myself before my hopes get too high. I must be prepared for disappointment at all times) and I think it's rather pretty :D. I may also be auditioning for the Nutcracker with Devin and the dancers at Dance Sensation on Sunday...I'm getting more details on that at some point today. I feel truly at ease dancing...it has become an extension of not only my life, but myself. The Drama Department has gotten me intensely frustrated, I just want to know what we're doing, when we're doing it, and who we're doing it with (sounds dirty, yes.) I've decided you'll never fit into any sort of Drama scene if you can't catch (and laugh at) sexual puns, whether they're intentional or not. This entry is full of parenthesis. Mrs. Renna is also very frustrating, yes. I do believe Robinson should definitely teach 12th AP, and Renna should teach 11th AP (or nothing altogether, actually.) I finally made it in to Driver's Ed! Also, I'm thoroughly upset about missing the picnic but there would have been almost no point in me going if James, Kevin, and Matt weren't since I'd probably cling to them anyway, though I would have liked to see my Percy =[. My birthday's in almost exactly a month...I really hope it's nice, it's about all I'm looking forward to lately, ever since the whole Drama thing became a mess. I've been getting terrible headaches/migraines again, but I'm just holding them accountable to the fluorescent lights that beam down on me for 6 and a half hours a day, and of course the wonderfully excessive scent of cigarettes in my home. And now, I have to visit my orthopedist to get a new evaluation sheet exempting me from the Physical Fitness test due to the whole...Bilateral Shoulder Subluxation, Bilateral Patellafemoral Syndrome, and the Bilateral Iliotibial Band Tendinitis...thing. Also, this time of year is when my biannual testing occurs! Hooray for a ginormous slew of doctors to visit, none of which who can tell me what is actually wrong with me, and a ridiculous amount of tests to be done! I feel like a medical experiment sometimes. Or even a game show!

The first game of the High School's football team is tonight. It's going to be the first game that none of us new seniors see any of the old seniors in Marching Band. Should be weird. Should make us feel old.

I want so badly to believe,
that there is truth that love is real.

!!!!!!!!!!^&%^&(@^$)&$()@^%$&*@

2008-09-09T15:57:00.003-07:00

Words can't describe this feeling.
My mom loves the program! We're visiting and talking with an admissions counselor ASAP!

Where's The Street-Wise Hercules to Fight the Rising Odds?

2008-09-07T16:42:00.005-07:00

I may or may not be making a life altering decision in the next few days. So...I decided to look at all the colleges on my list, and see which ones I can minor in Dance at, kind of just for fun, kind of seriously. You see, my two main ideas for my career choice is either a forensic psychologist, or a physical therapist. Very different courses of study, as you can very well tell. Well...when I went to L.I.U's website to check out if Dance was available as minor at C.W. Post, I came across something at their Brooklyn Campus. They have a Pre-Physical Therapy program, which prepares you to move onto a Graduate program in Physical Therapy, as one of their options for a B.S. in Dance. At first I was baffled, because if I went into the field of Physical Therapy, I was looking mainly to work with dancers. I started dancing at the age of two...and had to quit shortly after my fifteenth birthday due to orthopedic problems, and couldn't balance dance with my physical therapy. Hence, the interest began. So now here I am, with my head drilled with the thought of Psychology and Fordham...but this program is like a dream to me. I don't know what to do now, and I don't know if my body could handle the dance program. Also, I don't know if my mother would be fond of my majoring in Dance, but she may cave seeing as it leads into a Graduate program for Physical Therapy. Also, the Dance Department at L.I.U. has a Dance Wellness program... which I could have my concentration in. hdsklgfhdskl However, I don't believe my mother would go for this...plus it requires auditioning and things like that, but the fact that it eventually leads into a Graduate Program for Physical Therapy might sway her... I don't know. I'm so, stuck and confused. I need to figure this out soon though, in order to plan an audition piece and the like...but I don't even know how to approach my mother about it.

I'm a New Soul Living in a Strange World.

2008-09-06T16:35:00.001-07:00

belljar, harvardyu? I also created an account with Last.fm today, always thought about it, never did it. Same here. I'm trying to be more progressive, more savvy, and do these things I say I want to do. These days are moving slowly. I can't wait to be free. One last year of high school and life truly begins, hopefully, at Fordham. I've been busy filling out forms and printing things out for college recommendations, everything's becoming more real. Each day that passes just brings me closer to graduation. I feel so...stagnant. Rather, I was stagnant. Now I'm a bird. Just, just gotta leave the nest.