everything was beautiful.

2010-09-03T16:44:00.002-04:00

wouldn't it be entirely ridiculous
if this one guy could be perfect for me

except for the fact
that we dated in high school
and he dumped me.

I don't think that's the case.
I just like to conjecture.

meh

2010-08-22T18:49:00.000-04:00

I'm not witty enough to keep this blog up. Also, it has become a place for me to whine about my personal life, and honestly, that is a purpose better served by a journal...not a website.

So basically, I think I'm going to make a new blog and actually have a direction in mind this time, so that the new blog doesn't become Pity Party Blog Numero Dos.

But what to write about?

today's thought

2010-07-26T14:07:00.000-04:00

If we were really serious about reducing illegal immigration numbers, perhaps we could stop referring to ourselves as "the best country in the world." Fewer people would give up their homes and families (and sometimes their lives) to move to the United States if we would just admit that it's not that great here, especially for foreigners.

why home sucks.

2010-07-22T21:17:00.000-04:00

I just did something incredibly rude without meaning to at ALL. Mom's boyfriend is now really angry at me. Great.

It's so much harder to deal with people who don't love you being angry with you. There is no guarantee that he doesn't hate me. He has no incentive to forgive me for being an ass. He can just be a jack ass to me forever if he wants, since he's not actually my family.

Mom told me that I did what I did because I honestly think my opinion is the only one that matters. I find that really hard to believe, but I can't find any other way around it. I don't think I'm that selfish and stupid, but my actions seem to be telling a different story. She goes, "Why don't you just learn to stop and take a breath before you do things?"

Because by the time I realize I need to take a breath, I'm already in trouble.

This is fucking ridiculous. I'm almost 20 years old. You would think I would be able to interact with people in a manner befitting a young adult instead of like a petulant, poorly-disciplined child.

Needless to say, this has sealed the deal on my decision to stay in Chapel Hill next summer and never live at home again. I would much rather have a great relationship with my family some of the time than a stressful, often shitty one all the time.

just had a thought.

2010-07-20T14:29:00.000-04:00

People who deny the existence of global warming are often very religious. These people are willing to give up pleasure in their earthly lives for the promise of a better afterlife, a better future for themselves.

People who are not religious tend to be more liberal, more environmentally conscious. These people are willing to give up material possessions like gas-guzzling cars for the promise of a healthier planet, a better future for everyone else.

There are some very interesting conclusions one could draw from this.
Mine is that religion blows.

YES.

2010-07-12T14:25:00.000-04:00

"No matter what economists tell us abut getting the credit industry moving again, papering over debt with more debt will not pollinate our food crops when the last honeybee is dead. I suggest that we put the economists out there in the fields, hand-pollinating crops like they do in China. They seem to know all about the subject, and have placed a monetary value of $12 billion on the pollination accomplished by bees in the US. Can you imagine the fucking arrogance? All bees do is make our fruit and vegetable supply possible. Anyway, if we cannot use the economists for pollinators (odds are they are too damned whacked to do that job), we could also stuff them down the blowhole of the Deepwater Horizon spill. For the first time in history, economists would be visibly useful."

Joe Bageant

http://www.joebageant.com/joe/2010/07/waltzing.html

ahh, the single life.

2010-07-07T17:04:00.000-04:00

I love how old flings are now creeping out of the woodwork. And not like, actual ex-boyfriends or anything. Oh no. Older guys who wanted me when I was 16. And now I don't have the excuse of age. But it's okay. It's actually kind of fun.

I am enjoying myself. I understand this casual dating thing now. I can flirt with them now without getting stressed about what it all means.

july is going to be a good month.

2010-07-01T22:21:00.000-04:00

I am so happy.

My job gives me immense personal satisfaction. They love me and are constantly surprised at the quality of my work and the quickness with which I get it done. I am always learning. Yesterday, I learned about Esther Duflo, the second woman ever to win the extremely prestigious Clark Medal in Economics, because we're thinking about inviting her to speak in a seminar series this fall and I needed to find her contact information. Two weeks ago, I learned how to use Dreamweaver, and I totally get it. Our web designer is really impressed with how quickly I'm picking it up. Next week, I'm decorating a bulletin board with a world map and push pins to indicate where we have students currently doing fieldwork.

I feel so good about myself. I'm sleeping better and eating fairly healthy and drinking water (but still not exercising...oh well). I get dressed up every day to go to work, and I feel beautiful. I am moving the hell on with my life! And it feels great.

Mom advised me the other day that I need to find Transition Man. That made me giggle. I asked if Transition Man was anything like Rebound Man. She tried to look serious, and said, "yeah, sort of." Apparently, Transition Man is hot and stupid and fun, and once I find him, he can take me out a couple times and then I don't have to call him again.

Sounds like Rebound Man. Sounds good to me. I'm interesting and witty and hot, and I need some fun in my life.

ew.

2010-06-27T21:49:00.000-04:00

This blog has become nothing more than me bitching about my love life. Who really wants to read a bitter teenager's journal? No one, that's who.

So let's talk about something else.

I crashed a bicycle last week and now I have enormous Franken-scars forming on my forearm, knee and ankle. They're pretty amazing.

no no no.

2010-06-18T22:26:00.000-04:00

Today I thought I was ok.

But every time I smile and tell someone I'm ok, everything floods over me and I can't breathe or speak or see any light. Just darkness every direction, and suffocating pressure on all sides.

And I realize I'm not ok.

Not even close.

All of the music I love seems to have been written to me. Songs I sang along with before, never realizing the weight of the words coming from my lips, suddenly stop my breath. My voice chokes when I sing, pierced by sorrow coming so quickly I can't brace myself against the onslaught. So I don't sing.

I honestly thought it was getting better. I thought I was overdramatizing the situation. I told myself that everyone has their first big heartbreak, almost no one ends up in the long run with their first love, there are so many important lessons to be learned from this, blah blah blah. I tell everyone. I repeat all these things like a mantra, warding off the sadness, but then I pause to think and the floodgates are destroyed. Facts, unfortunately, have failed me.

This is not the type of healing that happens in a matter of weeks. Not for me. I thought a month would be significant. A month has done almost nothing for me. What about three months? Six months? A year? Two? How long will it be before I feel whole again? Like someone I trusted hasn't reached inside me and set fire to everything I held dear?

I'm trying so hard to be rational and positive and understand that you're going to move on, but I'm angry. I'm so angry and hurt. If it takes me a year to get over you, it should take you that long to get over me. That's how it should work. But it doesn't, apparently.

I am just destined to be the one who loves more and gets nothing for it but never-ending pain.

rules.

2010-06-12T09:06:00.001-04:00

Here are my new standards:

I am a feminist. If you believe men are inherently superior to women, I don't want you in my life.
I am staunchly anti-religious. If you are super religious, I'm not interested.
I am liberal and I get pissed off and rant about politics. If you don't like that, go away.

I'm just not dealing with it. I get to choose who I involve in my life, both with friendships and romantic relationships. I spent a lot of time compromising and smothering my strongly-held beliefs for the sake of a relationship, and I refuse to do it anymore, since apparently that doesn't work. It's an important lesson. Compromise in a relationship is important, but not as important as knowing who you are, fundamentally, as an individual and protecting that identity. And who I am is an outspoken liberal feminist with a vendetta against all organized religion. You don't like it? Don't bother me.

so strange.

2010-05-31T22:15:00.000-04:00

It's been two weeks.

I'm okay, I think. I cried a couple nights ago, but I went a few days before that without crying at all. It doesn't hurt constantly anymore. But it still makes me so sad when I think about it.

I was looking for my can opener earlier and found the picture of us from Gondoliers last year--the one I framed and kept in my dorm room all year. My stomach lurched. It's pretty apparent I still love him. And who's surprised? I honestly thought we were going to get married. I had a vague list floating around in my mind of possible honeymoon locations, the flowers for the wedding, the beverages for the reception (you always have to be careful; we both have alcoholics in the family). I wasn't naive to think it was possible. I know that.

Anyway. Now that the intensity of missing him is starting to fade, I'm realizing that I fell in love at a really inopportune time. I have grown and changed so much since the fall of 2008, and almost all of that change had to do with him or was caused by my relationship. So instead of my transition from high school to college being about me, it was about my relationship. And now, I'm not really sure who I am. I can't be the girl I was when I was with him--that's over. And I refuse to go back to who I was before him, because that girl is not a happy person. Who am I? Do I have the capacity to flirt anymore, or have I gotten so used to being predictable and stable that I don't know how to have fun? Could I even convince myself to have a fling, like everyone else my age does? I can't continue to act like I have a boyfriend. I am single.

I want to go out and flirt and have fun and make stupid mistakes, because that's what you do when you're single in college. I just don't know if I can. I've been safe inside this little bubble for a year and a half, inside a bubble where nothing is dangerous or challenging, and I've become a person that would rather just not flirt than risk a relationship that isn't perfect. I've been ruined by a guy who TOLD me he wanted to marry me, and now I can't imagine having sex without love, or flirting without genuine interest, or even casual dating. These are things I'm expected to do! Things I want to have in my life as I am becoming an adult! Things that are fun and fulfilling for the moment, and not necessarily forever. I've been taught to expect forever.

I love(d) him, and I'm glad in a lot of ways that I had this experience, but right now I just feel like a ruined woman. Like a future cat lady. Like someone who is going to end up jaded and pissed off, someone who solves problems with alcohol and denial. I know I'm better than that, but right now I can't seem to find that strong, intelligent, independent woman I thought I was. Maybe because she was just an illusion. Maybe I have to start all over.

2010-05-18T08:39:00.000-04:00

I still can't quite believe this is real, despite the fact that I've been crying for the past 21 hours.

It doesn't feel like he left me. I'm not angry. I couldn't possibly be angry. I'm just sad. It feels like he's dead. He's dead and I'll never see him again, except for every time I close my eyes.

All I can think about are the nevers: I will never fall asleep next to him again with his hand resting on my waist. I will never ride with him in his car again, holding his hand and singing together loudly some obnoxious pop song. He will never teach me how to drive stick in his dad's truck. I'll never visit with his parents or his sweet cats again. I will never go to Texas and meet his best friend. I will never go to a Savoyards party with him and stand proudly and quietly at his side again. I will never kiss him again, or play with the scruff on his face, or fix his shirt collar, or get to tell him how much I love him.

Because I still love him--so much I can't even contemplate ever meeting someone new. I can't imagine some other guy making me laugh like he did, or hugging me quite like he did, or kissing me tenderly like he did. I don't want to.

I'm trying to be rational, to remember every reason he gave and know that I had worried about those exact same things for months. But it isn't working. So many things were obstacles to our relationship, but I wanted to work through them. I wanted to try to keep going. We may have almost nothing in common, but if we fell so deeply in love with one another, doesn't that count for anything?

It was one year, six months, two weeks, and one day. I'm watching our relationship flicker through my mind like a movie on fast-forward. Certain things keep standing out: the first time I met his family, Thanksgiving 2008, and his brother making fun of my age; that time I made him so angry at me last summer when I went to see the Harry Potter movie without him; the Greensboro Grasshoppers game a couple weeks ago when I thought everything was wonderful; the first and last times we ever had sex; our first Christmas together, which was magical and romantic; him meeting my extended family last August, I meeting his last June; sitting in his car in the Brightleaf Square parking lot on one of our very first dates, November 10 2008, and telling each other everything we could think of about our lives; the first time we said we loved each other and he drew the smiley face in the fogged-up glass of my car's rear window; the big fight we had earlier this semester when he said he believed I would go to hell; dinner dates when I felt so special and he smiled at me like I was perfect; him playing video games with my brothers; snuggling on the couch at Amelie's; going to his a capella group's concerts even though I hate being in that kind of church; everything, running back and forth and blending together.

I don't ever want to forget this. But it has to fade eventually if I ever want the pain to stop. How can I tell people about him? He can't be reduced to one sentence: "My ex was super Christian, brown hair, brown eyes, 5'7" or so, we were together a year and a half." I can't do that. They'll never know what I know--that he loved animals more than people most of the time, that he bought these really goofy Heelys and I teased him about it, that he has ichthyosis, which is a skin disorder, that he cries in sad movies but not in real life (usually).

I almost wish he had died, because then I would be allowed to still love him. I would be the grieving widow of sorts, but now I'm just the girl that got dumped and can't get over him. I feel like the heroine in a movie about ill-fated lovers, but a movie that no one would watch because the ending isn't happy.

He said he still loves me. We hugged for a long time and cried into each other's shirts, and I said I didn't want this to be the last time I hugged him. He said it wouldn't be. I don't believe that. I don't think we can be friends. Being friends with someone I love so fiercely would be like constantly ripping open the scars of losing him and rubbing acid into them. I want him to be happy, but I don't want to meet his new girlfriends and see him get married to someone else. It would tear me apart to see her standing where I should be standing at the altar.

So.

I guess it's really over. I wanted to spend my whole life with him, but now I can't even spend another day in his company.

I loved you then, I love you now, and I will love you always, Ben.

I should probably go drink some water now. This took me an hour to write and I sobbed the whole way through it.

girls

2010-05-12T00:54:00.002-04:00

who think they are models just because "photographers" take pictures of them

are so gross.

ke$ha

2010-05-04T23:05:00.001-04:00

is retarded. I'm pretty sure I mean that literally. She definitely had Fetal Alcohol Syndrome or something.

gosh darn it,

2010-04-18T20:42:00.000-04:00

why can't I have two birthdays a year? Can we please celebrate my half birthday?!

I really NEED iTunes gift cards so that I can buy all of Regina Spektor's albums and listen to them constantly. Also, money for ModCloth so that I can buy big clunky stylish wedges and gorgeous dresses from independent designers.

I swear, this isn't a phase of materialism and snobbishness. I think I'm trying to reinvent myself. And a large part of that is fashion and music.

By the way...my half birthday is May 9.

pretty German poem.

2010-04-14T22:51:00.003-04:00

Zögernd leise
in des Dunkels nächtger Stille
sind wir hier
und den Finger sanft gekrümmt,
leise, leise,
pochen wir andes Liebchens Kammerthür,
doch nun steigend,
schwellend, schwellend, hebend,
mit vereinter Stimme,
laut, rufen aus wir hoch-vertraut
Schlaf du nicht,
wenn der Neigung Stimme spricht

Sucht' ein Weiser nah und ferne
Menschen einst mit der Laterne
Wie viel seltner dann als Gold
Menschen uns geneigt und hold.
Drum wenn Freundschaft spricht,
Liebe spricht
Freundin Liebchen, schlaf du nicht.

Aber was in allen reichen,
wär dem Schlummer zu vergleichen?
Drum statt Worten und statt Gaben,
sollst du nun auch Ruhe haben,
noch ein Grüsschen,
noch ein Wort,
es verstummt die frohe Weise,
leise, leise,
schleichen wir, schleichen wir uns wieder fort.

--Franz Grillparzer

desires.

2010-04-12T15:37:00.000-04:00

A list of ten things I would spend money on right now, if only I weren't in the throes of oncoming financial distress caused by a probable lack of student aid for the fall semester and/or not having a job:

Big, pretty wedges and sandals with lots of straps.
Regina Spektor albums on iTunes.
Dresses, stylish shorts, and skirts for summer.
Long strand necklaces.
My e.e. cummings tattoo.
A book of e.e. cummings poetry.
A new tote bag since the one I use now is stained.
Haircut to even up ends and layer properly.
"Everything is Illuminated" by Jonathan Safran Foer.
New cellphone since my screen is cracked and I can't see my text messages as I am typing them, which makes it really difficult for me to make sure all the words are spelled and spaced correctly, and then I die on the inside if it turns out I spelled something wrong.

UNC needs to tell me that they want me to go to their school. And then immediately say that they're giving me plenty of money so that I can stop stressing about how the hell I'm going to LIVE next year. And then Duke Global Health needs to call me and be like, "hey, come be a secretary person and get paid lots of money to dress up cute and answer phones." Then I will have a reason to buy dress up clothes and get a haircut. And my list will be shorter.

I'm getting a tattoo.

2010-04-09T12:31:00.000-04:00

Yes. I am.

I've always wanted to--just 'cause!--but I hate all those tattoos that mean nothing. Like the tribal ones. Ugh.

A tattoo should either be beautiful art or have deep personal meaning, in my opinion. It is not a decision to be made lightly or on a whim or, god forbid, when one is drunk.

I need to decide where it will be, but I've decided WHAT it is:

"for life's not a paragraph
and death i think is no parenthesis"

These are the last two lines from an e.e. cummings poem that has rooted itself in my heart. I posted it on this blog a long time ago. This is how I want to live my life. I want to remember that the effects of my life can be endless; they are not limited to only me and this time; death cannot stop my living.

Thinking about that makes me really happy. I can change others' lives with mine. I CAN. And when I die, it is not the end for me. I will go on in some way. I don't know if I believe in an afterlife, but as long as those who love me live, I will live also.

I think that seems like a good reason to get it permanently inked on my body.

naming my nonexistent children.

2010-04-05T16:35:00.000-04:00

Girl:

Liese/Liesel/Liesa. Very German and adaptable.
Marie. My mom's middle name.
Elana/Elena. Appealing.
Margaret. Elegant. Only a middle name.

Combinations I like:
Liesel Marie, Annaliese Margaret, Marie Elena

Boys:

Ryan. I actually kind of like this more for a girl, but we'll see.
Julian. Sexy.

Boys don't have a lot of nice names. Hm.

2010-03-30T22:37:00.000-04:00

THIS

is something everyone should read.

Realizing how much your mother loves you, if yours is still around or not, is extremely touching and often something we forgot when we're annoyed.

musings.

2010-03-28T18:01:00.001-04:00

When I was at Governor's School, one starlit evening, I was discussing the concept of reincarnation with my friend Elijah. He said he believed in it, and he said that sometimes you can just talk to someone and know if they are a new soul or an old soul.

"I'm definitely a new soul," he said, laughing. He described that he felt that way because he was so spastic and constantly energetic and all over the place. Then he looked at me, pondering quietly, and said, "You've been here before."

I felt this unbelievable frisson go through me, and I knew it was true.

I think about that a lot when I'm considering religion and the afterlife. Everyone in my life has a different opinion about what happens when you die. My boyfriend fervently believes in Heaven, Hell and a Day of Judgment. My mom believes in some kind of afterlife but not Hell. My dad is a former Catholic, so who even knows what he believes, if he believes anything at all. I recently have been telling people that I believe you just die and that's it, you become part of the ground--but I don't really believe it. My reason gets in the way of what my heart tells me a lot. My brain thinks believing in anything that can't be proved empirically is stupid, but my heart KNOWS that when Elijah said I was an old soul, he was speaking truth.

My mom and I were talking about this a month or so ago, and she described why she believes in something beyond death: conservation of energy. She believes strongly that the beauty of the natural processes of life could not have occurred within a divine helping hand. So, it follows that since in nature, energy can neither be created nor destroyed, a soul does not simply disappear when the body dies. Our self, our energy, becomes part of something else--whether that means reincarnation or an unconscious energy flow or "Heaven."

I like that. And it makes sense, so my brain is happy too.

Another idea that helps my brain believe is something my religious studies professor said at the beginning of this semester. No culture in human history has NOT developed some kind of religious cosmology as part of their culture. Primitive tribes thousands of years ago all fashioned a system of belief around a supernatural being/force or multiple beings/forces. These tribes didn't talk to each other; they didn't have Twitter. But somehow, they all developed beliefs that were essentially the same: there is more than this basic existence.

Also, the wondrous commentaries of children lead me to believe there is something more. They come to conclusions, often without adult guidance, about the marvelous place their grandparents go when they die. I just read a story in a comment on http://herbadmother.com about a mother who had two children, a boy and a girl, and who was not planning to have more. Her very young daughter came to her and asked where her other sibling was. The mother was obviously confused. The daughter explained that before she was born, there was her, her brother, and another child. "Where is the other one?" she asked, perplexed. And sure enough, two years later, the mother became pregnant unexpectedly with a second daughter. Her two daughters have been inseparable since the youngest one was born. If that doesn't make you believe in the permanence of souls, nothing will.

I think my struggle with religion is not because the concept is flawed, but rather because all religions existing now on this planet make my heart hurt. They violate what my soul knows to be the greatest purpose of existence, which is to love and be loved, by condemning others to the fiery pits of Hell, by making excuses for hypocrisy, by creating loopholes, by claiming that sometimes war is acceptable and God WANTS us to kill sinners, by hating others.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer came to the conclusion during his ministry and study that Jesus really intended for us to live according to the standards set in his Sermon on the Mount, that he loved us so much that he KNEW we could love our enemies, care for the poor, etc. This is why so many Christians upset me so much. The common modern theology teaches that, though God put his commandments down on tablets of stone, though Jesus preached on the Mount about how one should live one's life, that you don't really have to follow those rules because no one CAN. It's a cop out. It's lazy. They say that all one must do to go to Heaven is accept Christ as the savior of your soul because he died for your sins, and everyone else goes to Hell. Regardless of how one lived one's life.

I want to scream. "Don't you realize that means Gandhi is in Hell? Buddha? Malcolm X? Confucius? Millions of people that never even knew who Jesus was?" But they don't care, because they are comforted in their knowledge that they are safe, so they don't need to care about the eternal fate of others.

I absolutely cannot believe in a human, jealous, judgmental God who subjects beings HE CREATED to eternal punishment and torture simply because they were raised Muslim, Jewish, Shinto, Hindu, Buddhist, or even atheist. I do believe that God IS love, and any attempts to make him complicated, with human emotions like anger and petty jealousy, are simply insecure human efforts to make him something they can grasp, a being who fulfills their selfish desires to punish people they don't like. And since God is love, there cannot be a Hell. There is no Hell. No freaking way.

I have come to the conclusion that I believe in a somewhat Hindu/Buddhist concept of reincarnation. When we die, we are directed by God into our next life. Sometimes, when a life has not been well lived, we are reincarnated as "lower" forms, animals and insects. This is not punishment, but rather God trying to give us an easier existence to practice on and become better souls before moving up into a complicated human existence again. This is why murderers and rapists happen; they are new souls who cannot cope with the difficulties of human existence. They are not bad souls...they just need more practice. Eventually, a soul gets to the point where they have lived a very good life and are at peace with themselves and the universe. Then we move on to that place Hindus call nirvana, which is really just like Heaven, but perhaps not as conscious. Nirvana is the energy flow. Nirvana is eternal semi-conscious existence where one constantly experiences the love and presence of everyone they have ever loved. I imagine it is like how I feel when I am lying with my boyfriend: silently enveloped in love and quiet bliss. No one is punished. Everyone is loved. Every soul gets to float forever with every soul they ever touched.

Beauty is truth. This is how I know that I will see my grandpa again. Our hearts know when something is right, because the beauty appeals to us. That was God's plan. And I know that now.

TMI.

2010-03-26T14:57:00.000-04:00

I think it's funny when men write erotica from the female perspective and say things like, "She had never felt so much like a woman," etc., when some girl is getting railed with her hands tied behind her. As a progressive feminist, that doesn't really bother me in and of itself; the goal of gender equality (to me) is not that all women experience their femininity the same way, but rather that they have the choice to be whatever kind of women they want. So yes, I am sure that some women feel fulfilled and "womanly," whatever that means, during sex acts in which they are bound, gagged, tied up, taken from behind, whatever. What bugs me is the male expectation, revealed by some erotic writers, that THAT is how a woman should be sexy. She should submit fully to whatever fantasy her lover has in mind and she WILL enjoy it, even though it isn't necessarily her fantasy.

Being expected to perform in a particular way, even if it is "promiscuous" or "deviant" or "dirty" or "naughty," is not sexual liberation. You are only liberated when you make the conscious choice to act as best fulfills you and let everyone know that is why you do what you do. There is nothing wrong with being submissive, dominant, sado-masochistic, or traditional in your sexual expression. There is something wrong with equating sexual freedom to having lots of sex--that is a product of male imagination, and a dangerous product at that. Freedom comes with honest self-expression.

I hate me right now.

2010-03-20T11:34:00.000-04:00

I was so proud of myself for applying to Carolina--for getting all the materials together, for writing the essay, for paying the $70 application fee.

But somehow, I completely forgot about applying for financial aid.
I am an idiot. There's no way around it.

So I sent in the application this morning...a month after I was supposed to do so. I emailed the admissions office asking if there was any chance I would be offered aid even though I am incredibly stupid and don't deserve it. I'm almost sure there's no way it'll happen. I am royally screwed.

I made a list of my options (assuming I get accepted to UNC):

I miraculously get financial aid and everything is groovy. (Yeah, right.)
I work my ass off all summer and throughout the school year to pay for UNC out of pocket.
I come back to UNCG and hate myself forever.
I take a year off to work.

This is awful. I'm ruining my own life. And I don't even HAVE a summer job lined up yet.

I am not PC.

2010-03-12T10:35:00.000-05:00

There ARE, indeed, stupid questions.
Some opinions are just wrong. Misinformed, ignorant, nonsensical, whatever. Don't say something idiotic and then tell me you have the right to do so. No.
Forced sterilizations are a good thing. I believe in individual liberties only to the point that society is not harmed. And some people (e.g., the poor, the stupid, those with insane religious beliefs) need to NOT have children because they cannot raise them properly. Period.
It's not racist if it is based on repetitive observation. It's just true.

oh no.

2010-03-01T14:13:00.000-05:00

I feel like I'm losing control of my life. I never put on makeup anymore. I used to be so pretty. My hair looks like shit all the time. I have no style. Most days I wear sneakers and a hoodie. I don't do things I want to do because I've just accepted the fact that I am, apparently, a really boring person.

But I don't have to be. I need to find a way to get my life back. Just because I'm in a relationship doesn't mean that I have to give up everything else. I'm thinking about getting my nose pierced, just for the hell of it. And I'm going to cut my hair in a couple hours...let's see if it turns out okay. At least it will be different. Oh, and I'm going to start running so that I have more energy when I wake up in the morning--energy that can be used to actually look like I give a shit about my personal appearance.

I'm going to go to parties and local music events and actually get out of my room sometimes. I'm going to do whatever the hell I want, even if that includes things that are illegal. I'm tired of acting like I'm middle-aged. I'm 19 years old! It's time to enjoy life!

ok, so.

2010-02-25T12:14:00.002-05:00

IF YOU ARE CHRISTIAN, THEN YOU ARE RELIGIOUS.
You people are so idiotic.

Some examples of the bullshit:

"It's not a religion; it's a relationship."
Alright, uhm...IT'S A RELIGION. Go ahead and have a relationship with your Messiah or whatever shit, but it's still a religion.
"I'm not religious; I'm just Christian."
...I can't even respond to that level of stupid.
"It's actually not a religion--it's a lifestyle."
Piss off. Part of how religion is commonly defined involves a prescribed way to live one's life. To be devout, one must live as one's religion instructs in everyday life. EVERY religion teaches about an ideal lifestyle. You ain't special.
"I've been saved."
Oh, how nice for you. I have been too! A lifeguard pulled me out of the pool once when--what? It's different? Well, then maybe you should use a term that MAKES SOME EFFING SENSE. Like, I dunno, "I believe that Jesus of Nazareth is the son of the one true God and that he died on the cross for my sins." You weren't in any danger; you haven't been "saved."

Go away and don't talk to me if you're going to be annoying. Christianity is a religion just like Islam, Judaism, Shinto, Buddhism, Hinduism, Rastafarianism, Wicca, Neo-Druidism, and Daoism. You're not superior, and you're not inherently different. You don't get to call it something else just because you're closed-minded.

NERVOUS.

2010-02-21T16:32:00.002-05:00

I'm about to submit my application to UNC. Oh my god oh my god oh my god.

me heart women's studies.

2010-02-17T21:34:00.000-05:00

I talked to Phoebe about chivalry today, and why she doesn't think it's dead, and why I wish it would be. It bugs me that so many girls get annoyed if the guy doesn't run around the car to open the door for them. I feel so much more comfortable with my relationship because we open doors for EACH OTHER. And I pay for dinner sometimes. I don't want to be treated like I can't get out of a car by myself. I believe in mutual courtesy. Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean you get to act like I'm a helpless flower.

Also, I explained to her why I don't use the word "hysterical." The Greek root hystera means "of or pertaining to the womb/uterus," as in the English word hysterectomy. Therefore, hysterical, whether used to indicate something being quite funny or a state of emotional panic, is really just a way of saying that one is acting like a woman by losing control and being over-emotional. Oh, language.

I just read this essay like five minutes ago called, "The Politics of Housework." It's wonderful. It was written in 1970 by a woman named Pat Mainardi. She discusses why men absolutely refuse to do housework and their rationalizations:

"So ensued a dialogue that's been going on for several years. Here are some of the high points:

'I don't mind sharing the housework but I don't do it very well. We should each do the things we're best at.'
Meaning: Unfortunately I'm no good at things like washing dishes or cooking. What I do best is a little light carpentry, changing light bulbs, moving furniture. (How often do you move furniture?)
Also meaning: Historically the lower classes (Blacks and women) have had hundreds of years doing menial jobs. It would be a waste of manpower to train someone else to do them now.
Also meaning: I don't like the dull stupid boring jobs, so you should do them.
... 'I hate it more than you. You don't mind it so much.'
Meaning: Housework is shit work. It's the worst crap I've ever done. It's degrading and humiliating for someone of my intelligence to do it. But for someone of your intelligence...'
... 'Women's Liberation isn't really a political movement.'
Meaning: The Revolution is coming too close to home.
Also meaning: I am only interested in how I am oppressed, not how I oppress others. Therefore the war, the draft, and the university are political. Women's Liberation is not.'"

Hilarious. And absolutely brilliant. And true.

making excuses.

2010-02-03T15:49:00.000-05:00

This one will be short and sweet. Sort of.

There is a Facebook group named, "EVERY GIRL IS NATURALLY BEAUTIFUL ♥" that claims hundreds of fans and preaches exactly what the name says. There is also a popular movement within American women to topple the existing standard of beauty, specifically the part about being thin. However, they are doing this by demeaning naturally thin women, making fun of women who like to exercise and stay fit, and saying that being bigger is caused by a genetic trait that makes them "plus-sized."

While I agree that the standard of beauty in this country and around the world is extreme and unrealistic, these chicks are pissing me off. Yes, most girls have some attractive physical characteristics. Yes, it is possible that you are a size 14 because you are genetically disposed to be tall and carry more flesh. BUT SOME GIRLS ARE JUST UGLY, AND SOME GIRLS ARE JUST FAT. It's true. It may not be terribly PC, but it's TRUE.

As sad as it is, there are people in the world who are just unattractive. They may be wonderful, giving, generous people on the inside, but that doesn't change the exterior. Deal with it. Also, if you are unhealthy, eating too much, and not exercising, YOU ARE NOT BEAUTIFUL AND YOU ARE NOT "A REAL WOMAN." A real woman would take care of herself. It's just a pathetic excuse for girls who don't want to work hard, so they pretend to be happy and sexy at 280 pounds. It's not sexy. It's gross.

I hate that American culture encourages this kind of crap. It's not healthy to make excuses for everything about yourself and get yourself off the hook from ever trying to improve as a person. Let's be realistic. Jeez.

ah, what to do.

2010-02-02T16:41:00.000-05:00

I've decided to write my UNC application essay on Neville Longbottom. The application is due March 1. I am in trouble.

I don't think I can write this essay. Neville certainly is an interesting character, but I don't think I can make a strong enough point with him. I am notorious for this kind of second-guessing, though. I just don't know what to do. I am also notorious for being a terrible, terrible writer when it actually matters. I can bullshit about politics and religion and once or twice a year write a poem, but when there's a format and a due date, I lose my mind.

None of the three prompts inspires me. I have a couple weak, insipid ideas, and I refuse to use them. I'm far too picky.

Let me share with you how STUPID these prompts are:

People find many ways to express their inner world. Some write novels; others paint, perform, or debate; still others design elegant solutions to complex mathematical problems. How do you express your inner world, and how does the world around you respond?
It's easy to identify with the hero--the literary or historical figure who saves the day. Have you ever identified with a figure who wasn't a hero--a villain or a scapegoat, a bench-warmer or a bit player? If so, tell us why this figure appealed to you--and if your opinion changed over time, tell us about that, too.
After your long and happy life, your family must choose no more than a dozen words to adorn your headstone. What do you hope they choose, and why?

Those are my options? Really?!

My inner world is a lot of political and religious opinion. How I express my inner world is ranting on this blog and posting status updates on Facebook. Occasionally, I vent to my boyfriend about some topic and then embarrass myself and never want to talk about it ever again. Not exactly essay material. No one wants a student who does nothing productive with her ideas.
Neville Longbottom is the only non-hero I can think of. I don't read nearly as much as I used to. I could think of branching out to non-literary figures, but I'm afraid. Also, anything I say is going to be cliched and corny.
My favorite poem is by e.e. cummings, and ends like this: "for life's not a paragraph/and death I think is no parenthesis." It's exactly twelve words, and it describes how I want to live my life. I want the effects of my life to reach beyond my death. BUT IT'S SO CLICHE. I can just see it..."I wanna change the world, omg! Starting with world peace. And like, kids reading. Yeah."

I'm just not good enough for this essay. I'm too literal and not creative. I feel like I may as well save my money and stay at UNCG and be miserable for three more years. Whatever, it's just the rest of my life.

pretty thing.

2010-01-28T12:47:00.002-05:00

I haven't changed this blog since I set it up 3 years ago (wow! by the way), so I figured it deserved a new layout for its hard work.

a new way to look at things.

2010-01-26T16:08:00.003-05:00

Today, in my Intro to Religious Studies class, we discussed different sociological schools of thought regarding religion. This is kind of my thing, so I was pretty excited. There are two major philosophers that my teacher brought up: Auguste Comte and Émile Durkheim. Both French, both positivist (which is an empirical worldview; i.e. nothing is real that cannot be perceived with the senses), both major founding figures in modern sociology.

Comte, who was raised Catholic, basically believed that all religion was false, but that it was necessary in society. He theorized that there were three stages of any society: theological, metaphysical, and scientific, in that specific order. The progression of the stages has to do with how society explains the way in which the world works (cosmology). The theological stage is best exemplified by Greco-Roman mythology; stories involving gods were created to explain why it thundered, why rain fell, what an echo was, etc. The metaphysical phase involves more complex theories still having to do with divine power; this stage is halfway between pure superstition and empiricism. The scientific stage is obviously the empirical ideal: all knowledge has basis in observation.

He believed that all religions were mired in the second stage, the metaphysical worldview, so Comte invented a new religion, which he named the Religion of the Great Being. It was like a typical religion in the sense that it included rites and prayers and worship, but the object of worship was society itself.

This I find extremely interesting. Society does take on a life of its own; the behavior of groups cannot be boiled down to the behavior of the individuals within them. I like the idea that we are all interconnected, that a religion of sorts could exist that recognized the powerful force that ties together all human experience.

Anyway. It didn't take on, obviously, and a few decades later, Émile Durkheim took Comte's theories a little further. He agreed that religion was a necessary sociological phenomenon, but did not believe that it was totally false. Don't get me wrong--Durkheim was NOT a religious believer. He came from a family of Jewish rabbis, and refused at a young age to continue in that line. However, he never severed the ties between himself and the Jewish community.

Durkheim's philosophy was that religion sets up a system of symbolic values that embody the highest aspirations and expectations of that society/community. Through what a religion holds sacred, one can see what the ultimate and most important values of that religion are. My teacher gave a wonderful example: he talked about the basis of all Christian tradition and belief, which is the story of Jesus' life, crucifixion, and resurrection from the dead. Durkheim believed that this story may not be factual, but it contains important truth. The Christian religion, in his eyes, is not about Jesus ascending to sit at the right hand of the Father, but rather values of sacrifice, forgiveness, etc.

I love this. I don't believe most of what the Bible says; it's just a book written by fallible MEN with their own opinions and agendas. A lot of it is not factual. But there is great truth in religion. I can believe that.

a peek into my life.

2010-01-24T16:54:00.005-05:00

Today, I am beginning to brainstorm and write my essay to accompany my transfer application to Carolina. The prompt reads as follows:

"It's easy to identify with the hero--the literary or historical figure who saves the day. Have you ever identified with a figure who wasn't a hero--a villain or a scapegoat, a bench-warmer or a bit player? If so, tell us why this figure appealed to you--and if your opinion changed over time, tell us about that, too."

I have decided to write about Neville Longbottom. I think he exemplifies personality characteristics that are often snubbed by Western culture in favor of a more macho, reckless attitude, better exemplified by Harry Potter. Plus he's just adorable.

This is a text conversation between Ben and I:

me: so guess what i'm writing my essay about
him: How you relate to a literary character who isn't the hero.
me: how do you know this??
him: It was just a guess. You told me to guess.
me: lies! you checked facebook on your phone didntcha
him: Yupperz
me: hehe. more importantly, i'm writing about neville longbottom. that's the interesting part.
him: Yup. Agreed
me: i wuv him and his awkward. this is gonna be great if i can actually write it. all i have now is brainstorming notes
him: It'll be great :)
me: i sure do hope so. it could be the clincher. this is my fate!! neville longbottom will determine the rest of my life.
him: Hehe... So for now he IS the chosen one.

I love my boyfriend.

still alive

2010-01-11T23:28:00.000-05:00

I swear, I'll post something new soon.

new favorite person award goes to...

2009-11-16T21:56:00.003-05:00

Tim Minchin, UK-born Australian comedian whose incredibly intelligent, politically incorrect songs accompanied by raucous piano make me laugh so hard my jaw is sore for hours.

Youtube is your friend. I can't figure out why it won't let me embed video, so I'm going to make you do the hard work.

thoughts on God

2009-11-02T20:04:00.005-05:00

I miss feeling like someone could hear me when I prayed. Occasionally, when I'm crying from worry or sadness, I look up at my ceiling and "pray" in a choking, slurred fashion. I usually preface my words by saying, "I don't really think you're there, but..."

Religion was so easy when I was a child. The Episcopal Church has a set liturgy with different orders for service, prescribed readings and psalms, communion every Sunday after the same rhythmic pattern of prayers and oblations. Service is still very soothing for me as it was when I was a child, but no longer does it pull me into spiritual joy.

I am far too logical for religion. Thinking of religion as an opiate, as a way to hold oneself together when confronted with the death of loved ones, as a safety net for the truly unloved and alone, makes me much more comfortable. I view it as a social construction (which it IS, unarguably), but nothing more. However, I rear back like a horse when I get near the word "atheism." I don't want to label myself as an atheist, because then I feel incredibly depressed. I feel as if I've lost something precious, so then I try to force myself to simply believe that God is there.

But I can't. I just can't. I look up at the endless stars in the sky, at the indescribable beauty of the autumn leaves falling in the light of the early evening, at pictures on Facebook of newborn children, but I can't feel anything. I try to convince myself that my wonderful boyfriend (who is madly, deeply in love with me, which is a miracle) was sent to me by God, but even that provokes no connection within me. It was coincidence and luck that let us meet, not God.

I'm so scared of caving to atheism because it would mean that we are truly alone: insignificant carbon life forms on a spinning rock, whose only fate is to rot after 80 years of life in a box in the ground. I want there to be a purpose, a cosmic and universal connectedness, not just systems and death.

But logic screams: there isn't.

happy anniversary to us

2009-11-02T17:42:00.003-05:00

Ben and I have been together for one year today.
I am so ecstatic to be with him and continuously amazed by how wonderfully he treats me.
Just thought I should let the world know. :]

I ♥ politics

2009-10-22T14:25:00.003-04:00

...but, quite frankly, the political atmosphere is pissing me off.

This country was BUILT on dissent. Some of the first Europeans to settle in North America came here seeking freedom from a religiously oppressive government in England, and our most famous document, the Declaration of Independence, is a rant, albeit very well-worded, on how much King George was irritating the New Worlders.

I wish I could remind the nation of this fact. I am so disgusted with the popular conservative notion that anyone who criticizes the way this country runs is unpatriotic and probably communist. WTF? If I didn't care about this country, I would move elsewhere or not say anything at all. Dissent means that we know things can be better, that things are not perfect but we are excited to work towards making them more so.

The biggest disservice we can do to the United States is keep shoveling in the propaganda, like so much trans-fat loaded McDonalds, that tells us America is the best country in the world. It's not true.

We are #37 on the World Health Organization's last ranking of the best health care systems in the world, behind Costa Rica and just above Slovenia, part of the former Yugoslavia, and Cuba.

We still have enormous issues with discrimination based on race, class, gender, and sexual preference.

We continue to deny civil and human rights to the LGBT community.

Misinformed, "shock factor" political pundits like Rush Limbaugh have more influence than politicians.

Our news sources (FOX being the worst, and MSNBC contributing on the leftist side) are often just as biased and untruthful and hatemongering as the worst media outlets of all those places we hate: North Korea, Russia, China, and the Middle East.

Women still make 26% less than equally qualified men, and only 20% of senior management positions are filled by women. In the Phillipines, women hold 47% of senior management positions; they are the top of that list.

Our Senate is comprised of 14% women; the HoR is 15%. These statistics place the US at 83rd in the world as far as female presence in politics go. Rwanda is #1 with 49% women in their lower house and 35% in the upper house.

The average annual income for black households in the US is $30,436. Whites, on average, earn $44,232 a year.

There are approximately 2.5 million American citizens in prison right now.

Our educational system is not the best--not by a long shot. All of Western Europe, Australia, South Korea, Iceland, and many other nations compete for that honor.

We are not the best country in the world. Stop lying. It's even more reprehensible when you think about our historical enemies. We act so haughty and disgusted by North Korea's practices, but when it comes down to it, our actions are a mild version of theirs. We tell our students that we are the most powerful country in the world, we have a grossly distorted view of the world's perception of us, we are arrogant enough to assume that everything successful came from the US and that everyone else should learn to speak English (god FORBID we learn anything). In the same vein: we still spread nasty propaganda about Russia and Cuba, but why I should we believe any of it? The only reason we continue to paint those countries as "evil" is because we feel threatened by their power.

The United States is one of the youngest countries in the world, and it acts appropriately. We are collectively an enormous toddler--whining and crying, throwing tantrums when things don't go our way, acting as if no one else matters, playing with our toys and destroying whatever we want whenever we want. And we will not share. Oh no. Health care needs to be changed; the HMOs are destroying our citizens' lives. There is nothing wrong with a socialist health care system. It's what Jesus would do, seriously. The only reason people are protesting is because they are greedy. They don't want to pay extra taxes to help anyone! I earned those piles of money! Help yourselves, people of America!

How dare you call yourselves Christians when it is clear that money is your god.

Whew.

Let's be frank for a moment. I would love to see this country fulfill its founding principles, wouldn't you? To do this, both parties have to stop acting like spoiled children (yeah, you heard me). The infighting accomplishes nothing. No matter who the president is, we should respect their authority and serve them as our president for their allotted term. The Republicans refuse to work with President Obama on anything because they are so offended that he was elected, and this is wrong. I am glad they have their convictions, but refusing to participate in your country is immature and stupid. (The Democrats are not innocent, I know; I remember the last 8 years.)

We need to return to positive political involvement. Write letters to your representatives about what you think should happen, comment in your local newspaper, join a community organization that supports your favorite candidates.

We need to stop the hateful sniping, the ad campaigns based on slander, the "news" programs that spend a full hour talking about the supposed racism present in the White House.

We need to find a way to remind our politicians what the purpose of government is. We need to remind them that they should not be in this for the money or the fame. We need to encourage a system full of representatives and elected officials who govern the country because they LOVE the country. And if they truly love the United States, then they will work alongside their opponents and make compromises and have intelligent, respectful discussions about what is truly good for the country. And they will dissent. And it will be good.

I'm tired. I'm tired of grown men and women lying to the people of the country. I'm tired of elected officials pretending that it's okay to torture. I'm tired of the national arrogance that passes for patriotism. I'm tired of soldiers and foreign civilians dying for reasons that are speculated and unclear. I'm tired of "homosexuality is evil" and "communism is evil" and "socialism is evil." I'm tired of a country whose citizens are, as a whole, ignorant of other countries, their cultures and history, and are intolerant of language and cultural differences. I'm tired of a country whose citizens declare strong political opinions, but have never studied other governments and economic systems and barely know their own country's history.

I'm so freaking tired, USA. Can we calm down and start over?

I've got it!!!

2009-10-18T18:59:00.002-04:00

MY NEW MAJOR WILL BE INTERNATIONAL STUDIES

I feel so good about this. I think sociology is definitely really interesting, but in reflection I felt a little strange about choosing it as my future path. I realized that what I found so fascinating was the issues about race and ethnicity. Also, I realized that I really miss keeping up with the news. I have Reuters bookmarked, but I'm always so miserable and tired. With international studies, I can be a better-educated political junkie, learn about all the cultures and governmental systems that I find so amazing, get back into Spanish (YAYAYYYYY), take another language, and my study abroad will perfectly enhance my major. I can do language immersion and maybe (gasp!) become fluent in Spanish, which would be...like a dream.

Estoy tan emocionada...no puedo expresar asi alegria.

update for the three of you that see this!

2009-10-13T19:00:00.002-04:00

I'm definitely transferring next year, and I'm definitely changing my major.
I have all A's in my classes!! How amazing is that? I couldn't do it in high school for some reason, but I guess college is my time to be good at school.
Fall break is over, which I guess means that it's the second half of the semester. Exciting. I'm looking forward to Christmas break like you wouldn't believe. :]

disappearing act.

2009-09-27T23:16:00.002-04:00

it makes me sad
that the only people who
seek me out,
take an interest,
seem to care are

not

my (friends)

carolina?

2009-09-24T17:36:00.002-04:00

So I've been thinking...

I'm not sure I want to be a music major anymore. I calmed down after my last post and, after thinking about it a lot, realized that:
- I do not aspire to have a performance career,
- I don't enjoy singing when I'm forced to do it, and
- working this hard makes me hate music.
So why do this? Singing can still be a part of my life, and I will have a basis of knowledge in theory and piano at the end of this semester that will help me if I choose later in life to return to this field.
I really really REALLY enjoy my sociology class. It reminds me of Area II at GSE; it's epistemology with regards to societal behavior. I love it. I think I'm going to change my major to sociology next semester, or maybe political science, or international studies. I miss keeping up with the news for my international relations class; I'm going to get back in the swing of things soon.
Assuming that I do change my major, there is no reason for me to stay at UNC-G. It sounds bad, but I'm too intelligent for this school. It clicked in my brain today during sociology when I looked around and no one was paying attention. I don't expect college students to always be completely engaged in their classes, that's ridiculous. But I feel like my brain could atrophy here. So I'm thinking of transferring to Carolina next fall. The thought excites me...I think that's a good sign. :]

crying.

2009-09-15T14:24:00.002-04:00

I don't love singing anymore. What am I going to do? Every time I sing, I get upset and frustrated. I don't even like choir anymore. Everything about this major makes me want to cry all the time. I am not going to work this hard for something I hate.

I'll probably be a sociology major by next semester.

better.

2009-09-10T15:34:00.002-04:00

I got to play with puppies today. I LOVE PUPPIES.
AXA (I think) had them in a big pen outside the dining hall, encouraging adoptions and taking donations. I gave them ten dollars that will go straight to the shelter to buy food and blankets. :]

I have a peach on my desk that I took from the dining hall on Tuesday. It still isn't ripe enough to eat. I find that hilarious.

I've been writing my birthday wish list.
This is what I have so far:

iTunes gift cards
boxes of organic herbal teabags
money so I can pay my accompanist

...That's everything I want. And it's all practical.

sorry.

2009-09-04T21:55:00.001-04:00

That last post was completely uncalled for.
Why can't I keep perspective when I get angry? I say a lot of things I don't mean. That makes me sad.

angry reflections.

2009-09-03T14:09:00.002-04:00

I HATE class piano and I HATE my women's choir and I HATE that I am so far behind everyone else in theory.

And I think there's something wrong with me. I don't care about other people. I could live on a planet that was completely empty except for Ben and my mom. I don't miss anyone else--sorry, get over it. And I just don't fucking feel like hanging out with Tara.

Here's the thing: if I continue to hang out with her, I'm going to get stuck with our friendship for the rest of my life. I don't want to be friends with ANYONE for that long!! I don't care enough to maintain friendships that aren't convenient. I really like the people on my hall, but the only reason we eat all our meals together, etc., is because it's CONVENIENT. I don't NEED anyone else. I don't give a shit about "valuing what I have" in my "friendships." Fuck that. I have always been almost disgustingly independent.

I don't know what the hell my problem is. Often I feel like I should force myself to be bound to other people like all the other weaklings on the planet. Right now I'm just trying to control the violent urges I'm feeling.

This is probably why people become murderers.

twitching and salivating

2009-07-15T10:52:00.003-04:00

I need to get back to listening to Radiohead.

J and C want me to blog again. I didn't realize it had been over two months. What should I say?
You know how picky I am, and unfortunately, my life has no poetry in it right now.

I like Sparkles' blog much better. He has some really amazing observations. Plus he writes open letters to people who annoy him. Very entertaining.

I really want to watch Grizzly Man.

I've started packing up for college. I own so much shit; I'm honestly surprised every day by the volume of it all. The big cleaning part came a couple weeks ago, and I filled FIVE trash bags with bottles and bottles of nail polish, school work from junior year, trinkets and memorabilia and Christmas gifts from my extended family. And yet my room is still full. The harder part is deciding which books to bring with me. I also worry that I don't have enough bags and suitcases for all of my clothes (tangent concern: if I actually got rid of everything that's worn out or doesn't fit, would I even have enough clothes?).

I went to Governor's School Alumni Day on Saturday. I don't know how I feel about it. Usually my emotions are right on the surface, but not in this case. I had this weird lump in my throat for a good part of the day, but I never cried. My jaw muscles hurt for three days from laughing and smiling and talking so much.

The last day of the session last summer, I sobbed for a good two hours.

I think I was relieved to find that some of the emotion had gone out of it for me. I know that I'll see those people again and that college will be a similar experience; I'm not so sad about leaving Governor's School anymore. But I also think that's the reason for the lump in my throat. I'm getting farther away from it. Most of the friendships will fade, almost all of the memories will with time. I don't want that to happen, but I don't need to miss it so fiercely for the rest of my life.

It's very complicated.

Today is July 15.
B leaves for college August 15. I leave August 19.
I hope we're ready.

update.

2009-05-07T15:07:00.006-04:00

I cut all my hair off. :)
Having short hair is one of the most incredible things I have ever experienced. I had never realized how much shampoo I used until this morning, when I literally had to dump an entire handful back into the bottle.

This is me before. TERRIBLE.

This is how I looked yesterday. Lovely! What an improvement.

a list of things*

2009-04-29T14:51:00.008-04:00

That Coldplay song "Viva la Vida." That f*cking awful song. One of many, as far as Coldplay's discography goes. I didn't hear it until it had been out for a couple of months and had heard so much positive hype -- "It's the best song I've ever heard IN MY LIFE!!" No, it's not. It's really really not. Chris Martin continuing to whine out pretentious lyrics with a synthesized orchestra having an uncoordinated orgy in the background...why?
Flavored condoms. I'm gonna laugh when you break out in hives because you're allergic to whatever it is that you felt necessary to put on your junk so it would taste like strawberry.
Funeral processions. Can we please all just admit that it's awfully annoying to have to stop on the side of the road when you're in a hurry for 40 cars to pass with their hazards on just because someone YOU DON'T KNOW died? No one cares. I'm sorry, but it's just a fact of life. People die. Sometimes, those people are your loved ones. Don't punish everyone else with your misplaced anguish. (Also, have you ever noticed that the people involved in funeral processions are always black? Just saying. And it's not racist if it's true.)
Brita water filters. If you want cleaner water, fight for government regulations. Don't let the consumer industry feed off of the fact that the government sucks. (There are many more products that exemplify this idea.)
http://www.definitely.com/ is one of the best websites I've seen thus far. But THERE SHOULDN'T BE A NEED FOR THIS.

/endrant

*that prove how truly unintelligent the average human is

rhubarb rose.

2009-04-20T17:08:00.006-04:00

i finally get my hair to grow out

and all of a sudden i have this

UNBEARABLE URGE

to cut it all off and dye it

i think it's because

i will never feel as original as the girls at governor's school

with their dreads and curls and green streaks.

what made me cry recently:

2009-03-09T16:28:00.003-04:00

"I Wish I Could Go Back to College" and "There's a Fine, Fine Line" from Avenue Q
this week's secrets on Postsecret
the movie "Life is Beautiful" with Robert Benigni
Governor's School pictures
worry that ended up being needless
this perfect weather that, arriving too soon, just made me think of who I knew the last time it felt like this.

and.

2009-01-30T17:43:00.002-05:00

you know, there's a lot of mean girls in the city
and a lot of Chloes, a lot of eyeliner smudges and fake IDs

no x no y no z
anyone would look pretty behind your walls
trade beats for books!

enter glass shards, cigarette butts
there's a Smirnoff spill on your dress, didn't you notice?
guess not guess too too much

who's buying your drinks while I'm scratching the ceiling?

forgive my ranting.

2009-01-15T18:11:00.003-05:00

I never thought of myself as a jealous person until today.
I guess I was wrong.

It shouldn't bother me
it REALLY shouldn't bother me
but I don't trust her

and who the hell sends
winking emoticons to guys and then
calls herself a lesbian?

SURE.
just stop. just stop.
you should have learned your lesson
last year
cause I heard the story, and uhm

you can't. you won't. you never will. it's done.

I'm probably just being paranoid.
maybe you miss his friendship, and not what I think you miss.

...but I doubt it.

...

2009-01-07T15:01:00.002-05:00

why worry, my dear
if ellipses and parentheses are
merely jealous of our grammar

but nonetheless you stammer as
we reset the margins, remove
the superfluous,
breathing like commas
then dashes...

forget
the ashes of your language
stare into the pupils that dot my eyes
leave no spaces.

I wish I could write like this.

2009-01-06T16:56:00.004-05:00

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry

- the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says
we are for each other; then

laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life's not a paragraph

And death i think is no parenthesis

-e. e. cummings

guilt and pity and anger.

2008-11-28T11:45:00.003-05:00

WHY WHY WHY

did he just tell me that he loves me?

we're done. we're through.

you ended it over a year ago.
you said you were in love with another girl.

what in the hell happened to her?

to "hopelessly?"

to telling me that, apparently, my feelings were stronger?

I don't know what he expects me to do.

erase those months of getting over him?

leave my incredible boyfriend?

use that word back?

I'm tired of feeling like other people's broken hearts are my fault.
I'm tired of apologizing for moving on, for being independent and strong.
and I'm tired of your feelings.
I'm done. I'm through.

life is wonderful.

2008-11-09T21:11:00.001-05:00

I'm 18 today.
I had an amazing weekend.

I have a new camera and Broadway tickets.

All is right with the world.

I find this funny:

2008-11-06T17:04:00.002-05:00

when gay people and foreigners support conservative candidates who in no way want to represent gay people or foreigners.

...Really?

I also find it funny that people I know actually believe Sarah Palin could run this country. Why is there a Palin 2012 Facebook group? Especially so soon after the election. Please, at least wait until 2011. Give Barack a chance to prove himself, and then you may properly unveil your ignorance. Let me have the illusion of your intelligence for a couple of years.

Thank GOD Obama won.

(Lookie there, a liberal that believes in God. You thought it was a Bigfoot thing, didn't you?)

ode to aaron.

2008-10-29T22:50:00.003-04:00

This is something I wrote at Governor's School.

Background: Aaron S. was a TA/C (teacher's assistant/counselor). I was ridiculously curious about him; he seemed really unfriendly and unapproachable, but occasionally would do funny or sweet things. Also, he had a black afro. Like, a real afro. But on a white guy. Anyway, he was supervising study hall one night, and he was reading this essay to us about the roles of women, and I misbehave so I was doing this instead.

Study Hall Reflections

you just like saying "sex."
don't trip over your words, we'll lose respect for you.

is the fluffy hedge of oddly dark hair
an expression of self?--how cute.
a Jew thing?--I know your last name. and yes, that's a stereotype.
an interesting counterpoint to the strong jaw and straight nose?
a complement to the large eyebrows?
...I wonder how you would look without it. which other features would take its place?
would you be nondescript?
perhaps that is the reason.

though I might think that one who holds so much value for every single human life would try to avoid that kind of self-aggrandizing tendency toward being a subject of attention greater than others.

you fidget. a lot.
bare feet twitch and cordorouy-clad knees bounce.
you tread the room and inspect light switches.
all that energy--
--and yet NO FACIAL EXPRESSION.

oh--another possibility for the 'fro.
you like to play with it.
large and surprisingly slender hands
pull and pluck and preen and pick
odd shapes in the springing curls
--Dr. Katz, Elvis, a few variations on the same, terribly disturbing Bozo the Clown.

I am fascinated by how you fascinate me.

intellectually...
you are thoughtful. philosophical. a self-defined Kantian.
introspective. politically minded.
and you would flip a coin when deciding whether to rescue 30 people on on side of a volcanic island or 3 people on the other.
"30 people are a lot more useful than 3; you have to think rationally."
"God, a lot of you are utilitarians."

physically...
you scare the hell out of me.
the rare smile seems to fight the rigid muscle of your jaw and looks awfully out of place
--a grim reminder that, no matter how interesting you are,
I can't look you in the eyes.

but your T-shirt says you like the Decemberists. maybe it's not a lost cause.

25 day countdown.

2008-10-15T14:16:00.002-04:00

Here's my birthday wish list:

Avett Brothers CDs (any, preferably all.)

cheesecake

a professional massage

some super cute boots

a good mp3 player (like, 20 gb.)

the complete score of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Gondoliers

my new driver's license that will say "Under 21"

a cool, sunny day

none of the stress attached to senior year

someone to finish my college applications

no more Bishop's Ball planning

a creative outlet

a life like a raucous folk song with three part harmonies

and you.

all is healed; all is health.

2008-10-06T22:08:00.002-04:00

we're singing "Sure on this Shining Night" (the Lauridsen) in chorus at school
and I just miss you so much because
I want a faith like yours that could move mountains
I want a shameless penchant for weird behavior
I want to change my hair three times in six weeks
I want to see everything through a Kodak
I want to sweat heavily to techno and not care
I want to smile and smile and smile for no reason
I want to discuss zombies that look like puppets
I want to read poetry out loud late into the night
I want to have an iPod loaded with classical music
I want to joke about the boundaries of sexuality
I want to redefine the word "home"

I want to lay with you in the grass and stare at the Raleigh sky and hear you say we'll all stay friends and feel the hot tears make slug trails down my cheeks.

miss ivy league.

2008-10-04T20:38:00.002-04:00

So I want to go to Princeton.

Tonight I have to write a cast bio for the show I'm in.
What should I say? That I'm 17 and have no idea what I want to do with my life? That my car's name is Henrietta and my cat's name is Staccato? That I like the smell of cigarettes and gasoline and wet city streets? That I steal cookies from work and think about sex during church?

this is too hard.

2008-09-16T19:31:00.002-04:00

I can't figure out where I want to go to school.

All I'm asking for is a challenging, medium-sized university that's not a conservatory in a culturally-centered city with a good music school, a B.A. in Vocal Performance, and a minor in Spanish.

Is that so hard?

I've basically come to a revalation that St. John's probably isn't going to work for me. So what will?

NYU would be incredible. NYU would be amazing.

me likey.

2008-09-04T20:40:00.002-04:00

Here's some stuff I wrote yesterday and today. Each is an independent entity.
I like them. They just came to me...god, that's so cliche.

(Disclaimer: this in no way reflects my life, chillax.)

but why should I write
of castles and kings when I
could write about you?

I could write of what I hear
of four in the morning
of hotel sheets and collapsed veins
of bruised arms
of glass ashtrays in pieces.

you left my sheets twisted and crumpled
and smoked salvia in my bathroom.
we both thought you God
but you fell so heavy
while I rose in drifting curls.

The last one's my favorite. It's actually structured. I don't have a damn clue how it happened.

soy perezosa. lo siento, mundo.

2008-08-12T23:10:00.004-04:00

It's been a while. My good friend just read my entire blog today and showered me with praise, so I figured I'd update. :]

Here's what is going on in my life:

I went to Governor's School and it was completely incredible.

I am going to St. John's College in Annapolis, MD next fall come hell or high water.

I got dumped for the first time ever on July 19. I promptly wrote this poem:

why should I have anything to say to you?

let's be friends and

that wouldn't be fair to you and

you were so wonderful, don't think it's your fault.

you've said enough.

stop.

words are hollow and

mass-producing blank newsprint doesn't convey any information

multiply a null set and you still get zero.

the elevator smells sterilized

like clinical precision, like death in a hospital hallway and now I realize

that distance makes the heart wither, crumple,

tear itself into bleeding fragments of hope and trust and memory.

I can't even sing with any kind of feeling

because as my heart rends itself into shards

my breath stops

I feel my bones pushing through my skin

and the saline sting of hot tears as they

stain the music in my hands, as they

wet my cheeks that burn with embarrassment

while everyone stares at me like a caged animal, as they

fall like the rain outside this window

--which, by the way,

as it hits the fabric of an umbrella,

sounds just like fireworks popping, like

hot summer nights and

laughter and barbecues and

memories that continue to flood my eyes as the

puddles flood my shoes.

it's pitiful what reminds me of you--

the rain and

these jeans and

the bathroom mirror and

my tendency toward self-deprecation.

but it doesn't matter, NONE of it MATTERS

because analyzing past actions

doesn't change the consequences and

destroying the physical evidence

doesn't erase the scars and
ignoring the dreams

doesn't mean they won't turn into nightmares and

saying "I love you"

doesn't make it true.

grito con ganas

2008-06-02T21:46:00.003-04:00

words fail they are

incomprehensible

as they rush and tumble

crashing on the rocks

insurmountable obstacles of language

the flood is frantic

and desperate

and wonderful

I shake and twitch and fidget with

emotion and anticipation that

well it doesn't make sense really

but

warm air like silk or

horchata, rice milk, sweetly and smoothly

flows and coats the throat and

embraces every pore and

I want to hug the air that touches gently

but never stifles as summer often can

I only need walls when

it is cold and empty behind them

there is too much music in this air

I dance and twirl and I

just can't help it I shout just to

relieve the pressure of being human

when this world is made for divinity

it's been a while.

2008-05-06T21:23:00.003-04:00

This is what I believe today:

I believe that a woman has the right to do with her own body what she may, including aborting a fetus before the point of viability.

I believe that it doesn't matter whether or not I go to a great college; if I care enough, I will try hard enough to survive.

I believe that sex is completely normal and that, considering the health benefits, we might want to listen to our hormones.

I believe that we all have a dark side that will be physically manifested unless we watch horror movies and porn, or exercise vigorously.

I believe that marriage, though historically a religious institution, is merely a legal and contractual ball-and-chain and has no sanctity in modern culture that could possibly be destroyed by the private affairs or relationships between consenting adults of the same gender.

I believe that the ONLY thing of value that humans have created is music.

I believe that laws are only created by those who realize that they are too weak as humans to be morally acceptable without a mandate.

I believe it's a good thing I haven't posted in so long. It means I'm too busy being fairly pleased with my life. :]

2008-02-26T16:37:00.000-05:00

I screw everything up.

shallow bitch
go on!

make decisions!

hurt people!

ch-ch-ch-changes.

2008-02-19T19:11:00.003-05:00

I feel like my life is catching up finally with modern stereotypes of the average American teenager.

Pretty different things happening recently; some are good, some absolutely terrifying.

I am finally friends with I.S.; we talked some issues out a couple weeks ago and today had a wonderful conversation. His sister adopted a baby and now he's an uncle--I couldn't be more excited for him; I know how much he likes kids.

S might have HIV. He is six days older than me, and may have recently contracted a virus that leaves its victims with an average life expectancy of 33 years after contraction and that can turn into The Negative Connotation that is AIDS, thus shortening that 33 years. Why isn't there a cure? Duke University, the college/corporation that basically owns my hometown, is developing a shirt that refracts light around its wearer, thus acting as an Invisibility Cloak, but no one can find a drug to fight microscopic bodies that can't even survive in open air? This scares the hell out of me.

I am officially The Virgin in my group of friends. It has become a stretch of the mind to actually think of a close acquaintance who is not sexually active. This makes me feel pathetic. I know that losing that status at any time in my prior attempts at relationships would have been a disaster-- hindsight's nice like that--but I still feel like a child. I'm not NOT doing it for moral or religious or health or any other kind of reasons. I have no excuse. I don't want to rush it, but REALLY. I'm going to be 18 in a few months; this is pitiful.

J spent the night in jail for drug possession. Apparently people are pretty sketchy and the food sucks.

R is really good to me. Better than I could have predicted. Practically perfect in every...anyway. I'm worried. It is becoming more and more obvious that I am going to HAVE to tell my mother. I don't want her to freak out or feel like I've betrayed her trust. There are two directions in which that conversation could turn: one with the outcome I pray for, and the other as a screaming fight involving awkward questions about sexual motives and why he would want to date someone so far out of his age range. And yes, 5 years is not so much in most circumstances, but it's different! She's in high school!

It's not different. He cares about me. This is the first time someone has really cared about me like this, and if she destroys it...I will never forgive her.

On a lighter note, Hail to the Thief and Kid A are fantastic. This brings my Radiohead album rankings to:

Hail to the Thief
In Rainbows
Kid A
The Bends
OK Computer
Amnesiac
Pablo Honey

God knows that'll change by next Thursday. I wonder what else will.

as a pool of water.

2008-02-06T15:26:00.000-05:00

I wish I could get all of my thoughts out of my head and format them like music files into something beautiful. I feel like every idea I have sits idle and heavy in my mind like an m4a that will not play on Windows Media Player or Samsung Media Studio or anything, really, and I don't have the skill to convert it.

I'm toying with the idea of attempting to write again. I haven't written since my passion died in "Creative Writing" last year, at least not seriously. I feel like I could; I keep getting little flashes of images that make me feel like not such a failure as a writer.

I get like this sometimes. It's a mental block, and it really annoys me. My workload in my classes is a little too much to handle at the moment, and with upcoming performances and Spring Youth looming over me, drooling like the monsters under the bed in Calvin and Hobbes, it's like trying to sprint through caramel carrying a cow on my back.

Frustration is an understatement.

But he sends me cute text messages, so most days I figure I'll be okay. :]

in my head.

2008-01-14T20:31:00.000-05:00

today I sat and smoked myself to cancer

thinking about the dancer at the bar

well, how was I to know that a crush could just implode

til it became a grudge eclipsing every star

and yes, I know my addictions run the gamut

the drugs, the smokes, the booze, the 24

but you can't make the turkey colder or skew me less bipolar

let me list the things about you I abhor

horrible, you're so easy, talk sleazy

you led me off the plank and left me queasy

and that is why you can't rock my world

you swore that you were taken when I met you

but yes, you did undress me from afar
a gentle concubine, you skip amongst the mines
just a product of the endless, empty grind

you lack the curves that prove a proper lady
a slender slave with sluttish, sleepy eyes
though once I was emoting and Bono-lyric quoting
I have found another, be my guest and die

starry eyes, she's warm-glancing, entrancing
and now I'm through with all your sick, sad ranting
and that is why you can't rock my world

I've lost you and now I glide through the silky sky

it's so blue and you're just old news that is why

so screwed, cadaver gone blue, this has died

your machine has grown gangrene

and now I see right through your lies

with ripe wonder, I plunder the village

now that I know I've become her

and that is why you can't rock my

that is why, that is why you'll never ever

in a goddamn millennium

be my girl

I watch frozen stars on the way home

I watch frozen stars on the way back home

I watch frozen stars on the way home

I watch frozen stars burn out on the way back home.

--"that is why" by say anything

no one reads this but me.

2008-01-03T17:21:00.001-05:00

I think that's alright though. This particular blog is really just a way to sort out what exactly I'm feeling right now.

Right now, I'm listening to a few of the songs off of Line in the Sand, Zox's new album and reminiscing. I'm a little sad, a little embarassed, a little contemplative.

I don't think I was an idiot to care about him. I knew it wouldn't and couldn't work; I'm not that naive girl chasing the impossible. I spent months wanting him so badly--but I never became a burden on him. I didn't call him. Ever. I gave him space and respect and understanding.

And see? I gave him space whenever he seemed like he needed it, but he came back to me again and again. There was a period of time during the summer when I talked to him online for at least a couple hours every night.

Then there was all that drama. Love, and my age, and professionalism. That was a bad time. I felt angry and sad and childish and stupid...but he came back again eventually, though not in the same way.

Friends with benefits is not a good thing to be in the long term. And by the way, he did a terribly good job being a typical guy. Not that I was making the best decisions, but he pretended at least a little to care about me--and hadn't we had that discussion about leading people on just a few months before?

Turns out he doesn't care. She called him that night when I was staying over with her and told him that she thought he was falling for me. He apparently said that anonymous parties were attempting to convince him to start a relationship with me. A real relationship.

Don't think I was excited about that. I was apprehensive and unsure of my feelings on that topic, but I still wanted to talk to him about it.

But then he stopped talking. Seems odd for a person who once told me that I understood him better than most people.

I mulled over possible reasons for the silence, then decided that it wasn't up to me to interpret. I gave him space...as usual. He continues to take this space. A month and a half of space and silence.

I guess he doesn't want to come back this time, though I desperately wish he would, if only to explain why. He never did talk about his feelings much.

You introduced me to this song and it was so beautiful, but it tore me apart. You apologized for the lyrics once, but they didn't hurt any less then, and they don't hurt any less now.

"and if we started all over today

I think we know that we'd end up in the same place

maybe you're right and we've got nothing to say

I wanna hear it anyway."

2007-12-18T20:03:00.000-05:00

please.

don't judge me for how I feel.

every breath stings

in the cold near-winter air.

congestion, too fun.

anachronistic tendencies.

99cent art in unusable formats.

a blanket, a warm drink.

clench tense shoulders, then relax.

transcend the stress.

rise in curls like the smoke from your incense.

listing is easier than writing.

2007-12-11T21:54:00.000-05:00

What I love:
The Future Kings of Nowhere
88.1 WKNC (NC State)
sleep
venti iced mocha with whipped cream
classic Christmas music
Gateway computer
black leggings
comforter
hugs and kisses

What I hate:
Huck Finn
homework
the chorus guys
AP Environmental Science
girls who try to sing Mariah Carey
clunky heels
eggs
T-Pain
that 93.9 is going to stop playing Christmas music on Dec. 26

notations.

2007-11-27T16:26:00.000-05:00

Christmas season started last week. I can't believe I said that. I don't get crazy over much, but this is one thing worth it. We might as well just go ahead and scratch that whole Jesus thing and focus completely on the shopping; no 12 days of Christmas, make it 30. Oh, and I mean 30 BEFORE, not after like it used to be. How ridiculous.

I want to get into Governor's School so bad it seems like it's almost real; yet, I keep pushing it out of my head because subconsciously I think/know that it won't happen. These are truly the trials and tribulations of the terrible teenage years (also, I'm fantastic at alliteration).

Those of the male persuasion suck. I've decided to stop caring. Why would I want to be in a relationship with a guy anyway? Since when do I need justification from one who is inferior to me?

Creationism is not science. Discuss.

hahahaha I win.

2007-11-10T17:42:00.000-05:00

There's a whole post on my favorite teacher's blog based on a comment I left.
PWND N00BZ ^-^

untitled.

2007-11-07T15:15:00.000-05:00

I will be 17 years old in two days.

I'm excited, don't get me wrong; I love my birthday, but this year it really got me thinking about the significance of years.

We spend the first 20 years of our lives wishing we were older, then the rest of our lives wishing we were younger. So far, for me, the only importance a birthday has is that it indicates more possibilities, more responsibilities, more that I can do. At 12, I got to paint my nails. At 14, I was allowed to wear makeup.

This birthday means that I can legally buy tickets to an R-rated movie. Woo. I can't enjoy it, because I know what next year means, and 17 just does not measure up. At 18 I can vote. I can buy cigarettes. I can legally separate myself as an independent entity from my family. I can enter television contests. I can go to clubs. I am, in the sense of the law, an adult.

And then what? Then I spend 3 years waiting for 21, when I can legally buy and consume alcohol.

And then what? I spend years longing for 17, when my only worries were homework and stupid boys and which R-rated movie to waste my money on.

Why don't we love our birthdays for what they are? Why not celebrate with the mindset that we have learned and grown and become wiser for a whole year more? and thank God for that?

today.

2007-11-01T01:29:00.000-04:00

Today was better.

Today I: a) almost burned my hand off with Aluminum Something Iodide Thing and b) completely froze all my other extremities while doing water quality testing down at the Eno River for AP Environmental.

Today I learned that you can put too much pressure on the contents of a titrator and make the needle end shoot off into your bottle of extremely acidic waste water.

Today I cried from laughter. And hysteria. And possibly exposure.

Today I discovered by BSing an essay for Governor's School that I have a very modernistic outlook on life.

Today I realized that my birthday is in a little over a week.

Today I dressed in all black, put black goo gel in my hair, and hid my face behind a thick layer of black paste makeup which nicely contrasted my green eyes.

Today I made a small child dressed as Spiderman sob, run to his mother's open arms, and scream that he saw a monster.

Today I sang "O Thou That Tellest Good Tidings To Zion" from Messiah approximately 93274239487 times.

Today I didn't think about immature, insane, and intolerable people in my life.

Today I didn't think about yesterday.

Today was better.

things I hate about ***

2007-10-30T15:06:00.000-04:00

He's a goddamn liar.

Looking For: A Relationship
We should definitely hang out more.
I'm grounded.

He's arrogant as hell.

I love being able to play the guitar.
Forever fixing his hair.
Struts like a rooster ("I'm so hot" mentality).

He uses people.

"I miss the way you kissed me."
Let's hang out so that I can lie to you to get something I want.
I just told her that so she would leave me alone.

He is stupid.

Do you really not realize you're messing with two girls who have been friends since elementary school? who talk EVERY DAY?
Do you honestly think you can get away with this forever? with all these girls?
Do you truly not comprehend that we could destroy you?

He got me to give him a second chance.

I think that's what I hate most.

bad, bad road.

2007-10-25T20:34:00.000-04:00

You know what the third-worst thing is?

The third-worst thing is when a close friend whom you love dearly and talk to all the time suddenly, for one reason or another, perhaps a fallout of sorts over romantic issues, stops talking to you, so you stop talking to them. The lines of communication are readily available, but neither person reaches out and soon, the entire friendship is in question as it deteriorates before you.

You know what the second-worst thing is?

The second-worst thing is having two friends like that.

You know what the worst thing is?

Realizing how much you miss them, but being unable to take that step.

things you learn by working in a cafe.

2007-10-20T23:38:00.000-04:00

"Organic" does not necessarily stipulate that it's fresh.

Always always always brew the espresso into the water when making an Americano, not the other way around, because the one time you get lazy and do it the backwards way, Americano Guy will come up, bitch about how the crema's not right, get you to remake it, reject it again, then storm out (but not before hollering about how Starbucks can do it better).

Customers beg to be lied to. "Is the Mozzarella and Tomato sandwich good?" "Yes, of course." A better question is which is a more accurate reason why I said that:

a. I really don't care about your lunch.
b. I get paid when you buy things. Just buy the sandwich.
c. I actually really like the Mozz & Tom.

Who knows, it could be any or all of those answers. It's probably one of the first two, though.

A customer would have to be a freaking superhuman demigod(dess) to tell the difference when I give them whole milk instead of 2% (we don't have actual 2% milk; we have to mix whole and skim. I'm not just a bad person). They deserve those extra few calories, picky bastards.

Fat people always ask for skim milk.

Pregnant women are the most awful and obnoxious people ever. I honestly don't know or care if the asiago cheese is pasteurized. No, I can't find out. Because no one knows. Well, I'm sorry you can't eat any cheese that isn't pasteurized. You know, actually, I'm pretty sure it is pasteurized. Go ahead and eat it. Your child's probably going to be defective anyway, having your genes, so what's this little bit of spoiled curd gonna do?

Children are demons. They scream. They cry. They take the frosting off of their beautifully decorated cupcakes and draw mediocre sketches on the beige wall.

Apparently, only Hispanic people know how to cook or wash dishes. Hence, Spanish is the most useful language ever. "La basura" means "the trash." "Que es eso?" means "what is this?" "Seguro que si, mi amor" means "of course, my love." Other conversation between members of the BOH (back of house) staff is usually about your ass.

Don't trust iced coffee.

love's a weird thing.

2007-10-16T15:14:00.000-04:00

"I love you" means a lot of things. It can be a casual remark to another person when they have done something pleasing or said something entertaining. It can be an assertion of friendship. It can also be romantic, which is, as all those pop songs shout through poorly worded lyrics, the ultimate kind of love.
So that should be easier to say. "I love you," in the purest and most perfect sense of the phrase.

It's not.

There's this nasty gap between friendship and romance that "I love you" just doesn't bridge. I told you that I loved you when we were "just friends," but now I can't say that anymore. It's not that I love you any less...but I know it would make you uncomfortable to talk about love when so recently we talked about Love.

Why is it such a big deal anyway? You can't define love. It's not the heart-pounding, butterflies in the stomach, symptomatic love that's stereotyped into meaninglessness. It's something indescribable. So why is it such a big deal to say to someone, "I love you"?
I love a lot of people in very different ways. Some I wish I didn't love. Some I'm not sure how I love. Overall, it's terribly confusing and if I didn't love love, then I would HATE it.

hi mom!

2007-10-12T17:48:00.000-04:00

what's up.

I didn't know it was possible.

2007-10-10T21:23:00.000-04:00

I have found something I hate more than the male gender.

Let me preface by saying that this is A BIG DEAL. I mean...c'mon.

This newly-realized hatred can be named with a very succinct acronym: DAMN.
Or otherwise Dickhead! AHH! Merge NOW!

So you're driving down an entrance ramp to the Durham Freeway. There is one car in front of you. Say an SUV, which any sane person would assume has good pickup and decent tires for driving over all that mountain terrain you see in the commercials. The freeway speed limit is 55 (which means that you drive, eh, about 70. Ish.) This genius in front of you is driving at FORTY MILES PER HOUR.
[Insert me making a very serious face.]
Now you tell me. How, exactly, does this person expect to merge onto this very busy highway?
Apparently he doesn't. The two of you poke along, closer and closer to the traffic zooming by, and you begin to worry for your life.
It's a miracle that you manage to find a small hole between cars to squeeze into, though while doing so you cause 20 people to slam on brakes to avoid your bumper. Oops.

People like that should be banned from driving. Or maybe from even looking at a car. Or from thinking about looking at a car.

what is a "bad" person?

2007-10-08T21:37:00.000-04:00

I feel like I fit the definition, whatever it may be.
I'm not a great friend. Most of the time I don't answer when people call me. About half the time I'm not too busy to answer.
I say hateful things sometimes.
I'm kinda bitchy to people I care about for no reason.
I may have led someone on who is very dear to me and I don't want to hurt him, but I'm probably going to.

Am I a bad person? Or am I just flawed?

Helsinki Complaints Choir

2007-10-05T15:28:00.001-04:00

criminal insufficiency.

2007-09-30T20:42:00.000-04:00

Last night was one of the more interesting experiences I have had.
I went with some cool kids (T, C, and A) to a show our friend E was playing. She was up first and we left after she got off stage, even though she had urged us to stay for the other two acts...oh well. The guy after her, though talented, was older and visually unappealing. But I digress.
There's not much to do at 10 PM when you're 16 and no one you know is having a party. We got some Mexican food at Cosmic, then drove around in C's car for a while, blasting Say Anything and Regina Spektor out of the windows. I suggested we go play on the swings at my church's playground.
We drove to my church and screwed around for a while on the swings. (It was actually really fun. I haven't acted like a little kid in a long time.) After about 10 minutes, T and C mentioned they needed to use the bathroom, so I volunteered to let them into the church...after all, I know the keypad code.
What I forgot was that security systems go off even if you know the code.
Basically, I did a B&E on my own church.
The alarm system started freaking out. ("Oh, shit!") I tried to disarm it but a) didn't have any idea how and b) accidentally pressed the FIRE button, at which point I turned around and said, "Oookay, let's get out of here." We sprinted to C's car, piled in, and sped away.
The whole experience made me think of Dane Cook. Also about criminal psychology, and whether or not an accidental break-and-enter could be a trigger for deviant behavior. Maybe I'm paranoid. Maybe I'm an idiot. Either way, I'd be a terrible criminal.

a love song for the insufficiently educated.

2007-09-25T16:58:00.001-04:00

one more week? seriously?

2007-09-20T19:09:00.000-04:00

Seven days has never seemed like a longer period of time.

Grey's Anatomy Season 4 premieres next Thursday, as you should know. I will continue to be a rabid fan on these conditions:

Cristina doesn't pull an Izzy and curl up in silence for three episodes.
George makes up his mind. Izzy? Callie? The suspense is killing me.
Callie does not have a baby. God, what a waste of time.
Derek stops being McDouchebag to Meredith.
Oh, and he can't hook up with girl-at-the-bar half-sister Lexie.

things that don't make sense: part one.

2007-09-18T17:50:00.000-04:00

1) Public Education
I had a mini-revelation yesterday and came to the realization that my classes are NOT educating me. The entire point of my classes, especially now that I have AP's to deal with, is to teach me how to pass the test.
This is so convoluted and twisted and wrong! Testing should be a measure of how successfully a student is learning, not an end goal! I'm not going to remember when the hell the Stamp Act Congress was brought together (1774? maybe.) for any reason other than it might be brought up in the DBQ (Documents-Based Question) on the AP US History test in May.

2) Legalese
Apparently, the phrase "to hold harmless" is actually acceptable and widely used in legally binding documents. It's supposed to mean something along the lines of "to consider blameless" or "to not hold accountable for." How can people spend so much time in institutions of higher learning and yet manage to utterly butcher the English language?

3) Handel's Messiah
Have you seen some of those runs?! Three 6/8 measures of 16th notes oscillating between B below middle C and A, all on the word "glory." It's awesome, but seriously? Seriously?

Cat

I open with a question:

2007-09-17T18:00:00.000-04:00

Why?
Why a blog, when I know it won't be read, and I have the Notes application on Facebook at my disposal?
I'm not exactly sure. It may be the excitement, the rush that comes with every online account opened. I got the same rush with xanga, with myspace, with Facebook, with hotmail, with gmail...and now with you, oh blogspot.
I suppose I could just write these things in a journal or keep them in my head (HAH!), but this is more enticing. I mean, I have a URL now! All of my thoughts are available to anyone with an Internet connection! Faaaaantastic. :]
That's a tad conceited. Meh.
More later.
Cat