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They grow up so fast... [23 Feb 2010|05:52am]
[ mood | contemplative ]

  It's bizarre to think that in just a couple hours, I will be twenty years old--the big 2-0. I know it probably shouldn't have this much significance considering that, on a moderately superficial level, it's just a reminder of the fact that I'm one year shy of being able to legally drink. Still, there's something about rounded numbers that really make things seem...official. The "End of an Era," more or less. I guess it's the true beginning of adulthood in a way, in that there's no possible way now that anyone could mistake you for a kid, teen, or any other title that might excuse you from certain obligations or responsibilities. And in a way, that sounds terrifying--to think that, numerically speaking, this is the moment when my childhood ends and my adulthood begins. And it's almost obnoxious to think back to a time when adults would say, "You grow up so fast and you spend a lot of your adult life wishing you could be a kid again." All the while shrugging and saying in return, "Pssh, yeah right--I can't wait to grow up!" when, though I hate myself for admitting it--I'm startling to think that they might've been right. Even though I remember going through childhood feeling as though I was going to be a kid forever and that I couldn't wait to grow up, I now feel that it all went by way too quickly. So as my final hours of being nineteen slowly blow away from me, I thought it might be appropriate to say a few words about my seemingly fleeting adolescence. 

Honestly, a lot has happened in my second decade of living. I feel like I grew up a lot, which I suppose is to be expected, but still leaves me slightly amazed nonetheless. I know a few people who believe that you're pretty much this immovable and unchangeable person for a good portion of your life, but I like to believe that just isn't true. That people are malleable creatures who can grow and evolve through the passing fancy of life. Granted, I've dealt with a great deal of animosity in my life. I have learned that people, especially between the ages of 13-19 (and sometimes until an unforeseeable age) can be incredibly cruel and emotionally scarring. I learned that my mother buying me thongs in the 6th grade because she thought they were "practical" was probably not the best idea and led to a lot of speculation of my character and pre-teen promiscuity on top of the typical social awkwardness and uncomfortableness that comes from being in middle school, which I have a feeling stayed with me far longer than it should have. I don't know how I was so forgiving back then, how I tried so hard to let it roll of my back because I thought that somehow the people who treated me so awfully would still be my friends if I stabbed them with kindness hard enough. I also should've seen the foolishness in such a fruitless pursuit. Those people weren't worth the effort, even if I had to deal with them up until I graduated high school. 

Some people are just not worth my time. I'm still working on that part. 

I learned what it meant to really have a crush, even if it was on Oscar-winning celebrities who may have given you a hug that one time, but probably would never run off with you and get married and have millions of offspring like you daydream about no matter how many hours you stare at his pictures. And I learned what it felt like to feel that way about a real boy, and how much it hurt when he didn't show up to the night dance. I learned that being conventional is overrated, but giving a shit whether or not you're being conventional all the time is just plain dumb. (Yeah, that's right--I'm talking to you hipster assholes. You can all kiss my ass.) I can listen to my pseudo-obscure indy folk rock music and still absolutely love the latest Brad Paisley song. Who gives a fuck?

I learned what it was like to kiss a friend for the first time and feel a connection, even if it was for that one moment. I also, reluctantly, learned what it's like to have a moderately overweight emo girl try and stick her tongue down your throat shortly after. I've learned that first's aren't usually what you expect them to be most of the time. And that sometimes, even though it might end poorly, if it feels right, that's all that matters. I learned that first loves are usually pretty great ones, especially when you're in the midst of high school and surrounded by great times with great friends. 

I learned that people die. And it sucks. A lot. That it feels like someone's away on a trip for a very long time--you wonder where they might be but all you can really do is miss them terribly. I learned that sometimes death affects people in different ways depending on the people who die. I learned that I wasn't that close to my grandmother even though I saw her all the time. And that my Uncle meant the world to me. I learned that there isn't a day where I don't think about him and wish that I could tell him all the things that I forgot to in the heat of the moment. And that, no matter how many books I write, poems I write, letters that I write, journal entries I write, no words will ever bring him back or explain in full just how much he means to me.

I've learned that I seem to attract very dominating friends. It's not something I do intentionally, and I'm pretty sure it's related to some weird deep psychological subtext of my personality, but the fact still remains. I've learned that I can be bossed around pretty easily and that I have to be more aware of being taken advantage of no matter how much I want to make friends. I've learned that a misunderstanding can lead to big presumptions which lead to big dramatic fights. And that eventually, even the most stubborn of us know how to forgive, given the right amount of time allotted. 

I learned that giving people a second chance can lead to truly breath-taking summers. Even if he did break up with me on my seventeenth birthday, it was still worth it. I learned that exes can make great acquaintances...eventually. 

I've learned that I can be a very anxious person sometimes. And that thinking about life and death on a grand scale freaks me out a little and I don't like talking about it. I learned that I have irrational fears about life and the expectations I have for myself and that my parents have trouble being empathic even though I know they try and that they love me. And that therapy and counseling and tutoring can really help in the midst of an existential crisis. 

I learned that just because everyone in your graduating class wants to go to Brown or Berkeley, doesn't mean that is the necessarily the right path for you. And that taking seven AP classes in one semester is just the academic equivalent of public masterbation and is just really fucking pointless and stupid. That I'd much rather take classes in things I love rather than killing myself over a perfect GPA. And that it's okay to want to go to art's school that isn't necessarily in California near Mom and Dad like everyone else. And that leaving home is a really eye-opening experience. 

I learned that college isn't that scary. But that I'm passionate about just about everything I lay my eyes on which doesn't always bode well with my organizational skills (or lack thereof) and love of procrastination. And that picking a major is hard, but that I've found that I work best when I'm working on many different projects at once. This is when I'm happiest. I've learned that I can be a difficult roommate, but that I'm not nearly as bad as some people I have met. I've learned that living with people (especially girls) is harder than it looks and that living in a dorm is not as much fun as I thought it would be. I learned that leaving such a surreal place like LA to go to school in the midwest is a lot weirder of a cultural shift that I had realized. I've learned that, although Chicago is a big city, most of the people that go to Columbia are sheltered suburban kids who's mothers believe that all aborted babies go to hell. I've learned that I go to school with a ridiculous amount of dumb people and that art school isn't nearly as eclectic and colorful as I had imagined it would be, but that's it's getting increasingly more so over time. I've learned that meeting people and making friends is not as hard as I thought, but it's still hard to keep it up after the initial "cute meet". I've also found that if you look in the right places, you can find some truly remarkable friends where you least expected. 

I've learned what fallen snow feels like, though I have yet to make a snow angel, man, or any other snow-related being. 

I learned how great coming home feels like when you've been away for months on end. And how good it feels to see your Dad's great, big, open arms greet you at the Long Beach Airport baggage claim. That my two dogs are the warmest, most remarkable creatures I've ever had the pleasure to know and they seem to be the first things about home that I miss when I leave. I learned that, though I still believe that LA is way overhyped, growing up there allowed for a fantastic childhood. 

I've learned that I love performance poetry and that some people seem to think that I might have a knack for it, though I still think that remains to be seen. But I still maintain that it brings together some of the most fascinating people that I've ever met in my life. 

I've learned that musical theater is pretty fucking amazing when done right, but that I'd much rather direct than star. I've learned that the theater department at Columbia is full of some pretty eccentric and awesome people and that networking is a lot easier than I'd thought. That in a way, under all the egos and outlandish personalities that I've come across, it is like a big weird hilarious family. 

I've learned that most men between the ages of 18-24 have absolutely no idea what they want, but chances are it's probably not something that I can provide right now. That the concept of "followthrough" simply does not exist in their vocabulary. And that sometimes it's still gross waking up in a typical 20-something guy's apartment full of dimmed black lights still on from the night before and faded posters of overrated icons from the late 60s like Jim Morrison hanging over his bed, even if I am and should be age appropriate for that kind of thing. And though I still fall every time a captivating guy gives me the slightest inclination of interest, which has left me a bit cynical about of subject of late, I still remain hopeful. I've learned that my mother was right--I really shouldn't take everything so darn seriously. 

I've learned that the use of weed and alcohol are enjoyable for me, but only really in small doses and with the right people. And that I don't feel immediately compelled to always chose to partake in these vices when the opportunity arises because sometimes, I just don't feel like it. But other times, it's really fucking fun. 

I've learned that my parents can be wrong a lot of the time. I've also learned that they're usually right about the more important stuff that really saves my ass in the long run. I've learned that my mother is crazy a good 80% of the time and that it's sometimes hard to gage whether or not she's actually listening to me when I'm talking to her, or just waiting for me to hurry up so that she can move on with the conversation.  And that my father is one of the most stubborn men I have ever met and sometimes doesn't recognize certain social cues. I've also learned that my pride for them and their achievements knows no bounds. 

I've learned that I have a rather limited relationship with my brother, but that I'll take what I can get. I've learned that he can be incredibly critical of everyone, but that of everyone in the family, he's probably the hardest on me.  I've learned that in his own weird fucking way, he loves me and sees the potential that I have underneath all the criticism he throws at me. Even though it's hard to see it sometimes. 

I learned that I left behind some incredible friends that I hope will stay with me on my many adventures for the rest of my life (if not, at least, for as long as humanly possible). And that I'm continuing to make new ones along the way. 

I've learned that "Shut up, David" is a really funny phrase. 

That I just lost the game. 

That I've bin sittin' ahn this mahn-seat fah fowahteen yeehs end I'm startin' tah eat the upholstery!

That I love minimalist dancing. 

That it ain't nothing but a hair flip! 

That I make ridiculous sound affects that resemble girlish squeals when I'm around people that I truly love. 

That film majors who hate everything can be pretty unbearable. 

That sometimes I have moments of being totally sweet. 

That I tell really long stories that seem to go no where but have an incredible amount of imagery and detail that some find charming. 

That passive agressive notes left by roommates will always be obnoxious and annoying. 

That I killed Paul Allen with an axe in the face. And that his body is dissolving in a bathtub in hell's kitchen. 

That Stephen Sondheim, George Gershwin, and Al Hirshfeld complete me. 

That after all this time, I still can't wait to someday live in New York. Doing...God knows what. 

And that there's really nothing better than a cake overloaded with sugar that was bought from the local grocery store to have on the midnight of your birthday. 

When I was about ten years old, I remember lying awake in bed thinking about all the stuff that I had done during my decade of life. It had seemed like so much had happened; all the kids I've played with, the stories we made up, and the mistakes that I had learned from seemed to fill up a lifetime. Now looking back at my second decade it seems obvious that I've experienced a lot more since then, and yet I feel like I'm barely getting started. It does feel scary not to have that crutch of childhood keeping me upright. And yet, I'm excited for the future and all the things I will learn in the upcoming years of pseudo adulthood. 

The time is 5:52am. I am now officially 20 years old. Here's to the beginning of a whole new decade. 



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Confessions of a One-Night Stand [05 Nov 2009|02:44am]
[ mood | frustrated ]

Fuck me, lick me suck me--

Harder! YES--



Oh yeah, I want you

To have something to say

Rub your digressions all over my face

Yes, that’s right—

Treat me like a prized possession

An artifact of artistic expression

Then throw me down on all fours

And call me your bitch.


I want you

To brush against my arm

And make me feel worth knowing

Unleash that animal from within me

Then tend to my battle scars

Of lovers passed

Like that of a nurturing friend


Oh baby, I want you

Inside me

And outside my apartment

Begging for that one last kiss


Then, while laying on the allusive cool

After you’ve calmed down your

Throbbing erection and your

Trembling heart,

To finally cut to the chase

And softly say, “I’ll call you”


But what you can’t grasp

Is that what I want

More than the X-rated lingo

And the double standards of

Cute and sexy

Smart and slutty

Nice and naughty


Is to feel the ebb and flow

In someone who sees more

Than the gentleman’s conquest

Of an easy lay


Because I would pour

My ever-loving soul

Into your heart

If I ever got the chance

Wrap my body around your insecurities

And make you whole again


I would,

If I ever thought you’d let me

Which in turn would turn me on

Brighter than the laptop screen

By which I write these words


So as I watch you walk away

And feel the swagger in your step

I can’t help but fantasize

About the endless possibilities

Of promises fulfilled

And the undeniable desires

Met in a passionate frenzy

Which makes me

Want to







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All the wild possibilities... [11 May 2009|11:19pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]

I. Inspiration 


With eyes half open.

Can you see the movements

I make with my fingertips

Along the wall?

A sudden bloom of thought

And it begins.


I stare at the white sky—

A blank space.

It embraces me

And I feel unrestrained;

A desire to fill its canvas

With vibrant colors

Of freshly coated paint.


A chord is struck.

It echoes, resonates throughout;

An orgasmic rush

Of sight and sound

Wraps around me,

And I feel alive.

II. Frustration


Sit.             Think.                            Start.

How shall I speak?

When the weight

Of what’s already been said

                        Hovers over me.


Uproarious static

Bubbles to the brim.

It pollutes

The cold, unsatisfied thought:

Lingering, helpless;

Unable to reach the surface.


Pull your hair out

Trying to find

The elusive metaphor.

What may seem

An act of whimsy,

Feels arbitrary,




Time: a constant evil

Makes you second-guess

But acquiesce

With heavy heart

The inevitable agonizing release


Let go

The comfort of the cliché, the mundane

And finally,

I can see again.

III. Realization

With little effort,

I flow through life’s fancy;

A mere fraction of eternity—

The wonderful, ominous nature.

Not one of us, insignificant:

I am lead of my own story

And the artist of my own experience.





Never spilling a drop,

I try

To make sense of my words

That you might comprehend:

Careful to express,

I still maintain

My peace of mind.

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"...because I want to do absolutely all I can..." [29 Dec 2008|01:03am]
[ mood | contemplative ]

So I decided, having fully experienced my first semester of college, that I desperately need a change -- a transformation if you will. I have discovered aspects of myself in the full swing of various social situations and I can clearly see that there are things about myself that need changing. I feel that of late I've just been drifting in and out of life, almost floating above myself if that makes any sense at all. I've lost touch with myself.

I miss listening to an album and having it remind me of a time and place in my life. I miss feeling like my life is currently happing, like a chapter in a story, rather than an empty existence as if time has stopped. I miss enjoying myself and my persona and not constantly searching for someone's ego to latch on to. I need to take pride in myself for once.

I had this kind of transformation from middle school to high school and I found that it was a wonderful revelation for me, something that I've lost touch with. I just hope that it's something I can do again for myself.

In any event, I think it's time for me to start writing on this thing again. Be more self-reflective. I figure not very many people read this anymore, and I'm so eager to talk to people about my seemingly trivial but current going's on in life when in person that I don't need to recap what's been going on in my life recently on a silly little online journal. And event if any of you actually do read this, y'all know that I'm in college, having minor social troubles in Chicago, but overall enjoying the school and blah de blah blah blah. You know the deal, and if you don't then just ask.

I'm really glad I got a digital camera for Christmas, 'cause I want to start taking more pictures of what goes on in my life, too. I guess it's part of the whole, "self-reflection thing". I really wanna get in touch with myself in a very soul-satisfying way. I hope that didn't sound too obnoxiously pretentious.

This song I'm listening to really captures what I'm feeling/what I want to do with my life at the moment. It's from Inara George's album with Van Dyke Parks, the song's called, "Right as Wrong" and it goes like this:

Right As Wrong by Inara George
Want to find the bottom of my heart,
Want to be alone until I'm lonely,
Want to lie down, want to be still,
Modify my will,
Want to be a kite
And fly above your house
And then drop down into your room.

Want to crotch down,
Want to dig in,
Maybe speak another language,
Want to drink in bars
And sell my car,
Want to pray for you in my own way
And try to keep in mind
Every single person in the room.

Want to be right,
Want to be right,
I want to be right.

Want to make a list,
And on the list,
I want to call you back,
I want to grow my hair,
But it'll never get there,
I want to have regrets,
Because I want to do absolutely all I can.

Want to leave the house,
Want to stand up now,
Open the door and find a destination,
A revelation
I'll see a ghost,
He'll steal my voice and I'll begin again.

Want to be right,
Want to be right,
I want to be right.

I like the idea of rolling my eyes and beginning life anew, in my own way.



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Writer's Block (a post from ages ago that I never got around to posting) [28 Oct 2008|09:09pm]
[ mood | blegh ]

I have a headache. My laptop screen is giving off an uncomfortable white glow and I can't help but put all my concentration on my eyes still fixated on the empty page. Thus the headache.

There is nothing more excruciating than a blank space. I can't help but stare at it, watching the thin black line on my word processor blink with anticipation, as if to say, "Well, what the hell are you waiting for? I can't wait all day y'know." Even if I have a general idea of what I want to say, I often wonder what I could possibly convey that either hasn't already been said or could be said infinitely better if I had the proper insight or vocabulary. I sometimes find myself reaching for the right word, feeling that I knew it once but that all I can recall of it is a vague and blurry image of what it resembled, like the way one remembers an old friend they haven't seen since they were kids. This happens to me quite frequently and it leaves me feeling inadequate and poorly educated. Especially when I settle for a simpler, less concise word to express my point, which makes me feel unable to fully communicate. Even more so when the word is used inappropriately.

Whenever I start to write I can't help but hear my mother's critical voice in my head saying, "You've got to be kidding me."

It's even worse with art.



2 comments|post comment

Happy Birthday Scott [11 Apr 2008|11:41pm]
[ mood | my tongue hurts! ]

I love you.


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I miss you. [10 Mar 2008|12:37am]
[ mood | sad ]

"Let's be scared together,
Let's pretend that nothing is awful..."



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Someday... [09 Mar 2008|12:04am]
[ mood | hopeless romantic ]

I want someone to sing this to me...

"I... love you dear,
I think you're swell,
You're never near me close enough to tell,
If I'm delightful or not.

I need your wrist
I praise your thigh
There's not a guy
There's not a piece of paper
There's not a man in pants
Who could love you the same as I.

Often times lovers are crazy people,
Sometimes they kill each other,
Just like a biblical brother
Did to his biblical brother
Back in biblical times..."

"Biblical times?"

"Uhh...biblical times...heh"

"Oh those, Biblical Times!

I love your eyes
I love your face
I want you by my side to take my place
If I get sick or detained

Don't brush your hair, you're perfect
Don't start to cry
There's not a guy
There's not a horse or zebra
There's not a giant man
Who could love you the same as I
Forget that giant man
He won't love you the same as I
I'm not a giant man
But I'll love you until
Love you until... I die!"

Someday... :)


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My "Almost" Family [02 Mar 2008|11:10pm]
[ mood | emotional ]

The other day my father and I were going through old VHS tapes that had been piling up in our living room. Most of what we found was old episodes of Roseanne and Becker back when my dad actually cared about watching every single episode of just about anything that came on television. But among the re-runs and award shows from the early 90's, we'd occasionally find some old home videos from my childhood.

One video my dad showed me was from before I was born--when my mom and dad were still married and my mom was pregnant with my brother, Max. My grandmother had recently sent them an 80's equivalent of a camcorder that you had to strap onto your body in order to use, so that they could send her videos of the baby and the house and whatnot. So they sent my grandmother some videos and they creatively called them the "Bob and Kathy" shows, which were essentially my dad and very-pregnant mom being a silly married couple.

The Musings of a Kid with Divorced ParentsCollapse )


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I'm Ready [24 Nov 2007|01:01am]
[ mood | anxious ]

Finding the right college is like finding the right husband. When you know you have the right fit--you'll just know.

Have faith in yourself, sweetheart. You'll know which place is right for you. In your own time..

They exit.

The stage is bear. The GIRL stands alone. She runs out to meet up with the MOTHER and FATHER but they've already left the stage. She stops and stares out at the audience.

GIRL: (to herself) I've been so afraid for so long. So damn scared of making that first step out into the world and forever regretting the choices I made.

A beat

I want them to accept me. I want them--I want to find my perfect match. That one place where I can feel truly at home. Where I don't have to deal with this nonsense anymore. I want that so badly I can taste it. I'm just...afraid.

She sings.

Marry me a little,
Love me just enough.
Cry, but not too often,
Play, but not too rough.
Keep a tender distance
so we'll both be free.
That's the way it ought to be.

She runs down stage and shouts.

Marry Me A LittleCollapse )


P.S. By the way, this is how I feel about college and high school BS and being ready and all that. I just thought I'd point out how this song really captures that feeling. And that I love musicals. Ciao <3 (Oh yeah, photos from Columbia (the school I'm ready for) will be up soon..when I get around to it :P)

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Dear Columbia, [14 Nov 2007|11:49pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]

I am a visual thinker. When I was little, my mother used to keep me entertained on long car trips by telling me to see the world as if my eyes were a camera and I was shooting a movie. Over the years, I have learned to see my world as a visual backdrop for an endless variety of ideas and possibilities.

I am, and have always been, a city person. When I was nine and my Uncle took me to New York for the first time, I was in visual heaven. I discovered that beauty can be found in the most unexpected places. I'm not one for vast countrysides and radiant summer skies. True, these images are quite stunning, but to me, they fail in comparison to the way a rusty fire escape clings to a worn brick building, or the way a homeless man emerges from a pile of garbage, or how the lines of wisdom crease an elderly man's face as he waits at a subway station. To me, in all that noise and chaos, the city’s glorious mass of eclectic culture moves me to tears.

This is who I am, Columbia. This is what I love about life, and these are just some of the themes that I hope to convey in my artwork, regardless of what medium I use. I don't have a glossy portfolio or a mass of work to lay at your feet. That isn't to say that I have not begun to convey these themes in my art. I have written poems, short stories, essays; I have illustrated and painted pieces; I have created a traditionally drawn animation—but the work I have done barely scratches the surface of ideas and possibilities that I am aching to express. What I do have in great abundance is passion, enthusiasm, and drive. If given the opportunity and the technical tools to improve my artistic abilities, I can assure you that I will put more into my work than any student you have ever encountered.

I want to continue to be a camera that celebrates the human experience and encourages others to use their eyes as I use mine. Perhaps in that way, I can communicate my fascination with the intense beauty of ordinary life and the oddities of human interaction. I want the ability to broaden my horizons and discover things that I haven't even imagined yet.

My goal is to become a multi-faceted artist. I want to expand and explore my enthusiasm for all arts and soak it up for all it’s worth. I long to be immersed in an artistic community where inspiration and productivity lurk around every corner. I want the opportunity to focus and direct my talents so that I may understand and better control my abilities.

I hope to achieve all this and more at Columbia College Chicago.

And now we play the waiting game...


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At Long Last--A Ray of Light [29 Oct 2007|12:35am]
[ mood | stoked ]

So finally--after all the anxiety and frustration and agony and tears and therapy and arguments and pain over fighting my inner demons--I think I've fallen in love.

At first it was just a tiny crush.

But now I think I'm head over heels.

Its name is Columbia College in Chicago.

It has 26 animation courses.

It has musical theatre history courses.

It's performing West Side Story in February.

It puts on about 15 shows a year

It has a course on Psychology of Creativity.

It's in the middle of an amazing city.

And most importantly--it encourages broadening horizons and discovering yourself without the pressure of picking a major too soon. (THEY know that most kids like me don't know what they want to do yet and that IT'S OKAY!)

It speaks to my voice.


I know that I'm in those first stages of love where everything about it seems perfect no matter what. Where you can't see any flaws and you wonder how it can be so wonderful, insisting that there must be a catch.

I know I'm so in love that I cannot see things clearly. And I'm afraid that when we meet face to face, it will disappoint and I will be heart-broken and shattered beyond belief.

But I have faith that my love will not let me down.

Our love is too strong for that...<3


3 comments|post comment

A Little Victory [14 Oct 2007|12:18am]
[ mood | warm ]

I haven't posted in awhile. I haven't been doing well--for a variety of reasons. Mostly involving bad medication and anxiety and all kinds of depression. I actually felt that if I had the courage, I would've killed myself. I know that's incredibly emo, but it's how I felt so fucking deal with it.

Anyway, I came across something that made me smile. No--it made me, literally, sqeal with joy. It's something that doesn't happen very often, and when it does, it's admired and perhaps glorified just a little. It was a victory, one of immense relevance to my life. It was by no means large to anyone else but me, and it makes me very happy.

It regards my idea for my senior project. I've been thinking about this project ever since I was in the 8th grade pre-Hamilton, and almost 4 years later, I hadn't gotten passed the initial contemplation process. I guess I couldn't get a grasp of it because I was waiting for the idea to come to me--or perhaps waiting for an experience to effect me so as to inspire me to write about it. I decided one day on the bus quite arbitrarly that I was going to do my Senior Project as an unreliable narrative (like Catcher in the Rye or Huck Finn writing style) on what happened last summer. It's essentially gonna be about everything that happened with Scott and my family (see my Scott post if confused) and all the quirky, dark, and incredibly emotional shit that happened to all of us.

I tried pitching this idea to several of my teachers. I didn't want to because this stuff is kinda personal and didn't exactly feel 100% comfortable with sharing this story with teachers who I sometimes feel don't give a shit about me and underestimate my capabilites. I talked to Kaplan, the one teacher who I feel I can really relate to, but he kinda shoved me aside saying that he was already swamped. I was a little disappointed but I thought I could perhaps persuade him with an e-mail essentially pitching my idea. Just in case, I talked to Smolin a little bit about my idea. After all, he introduced the concept of the unreliable narrative when he was teaching Catcher in class. He seemed slightly interested, but I felt like his enthusiasm was a bit insincere. I like Smolin, I really do, but I feel slightly disillusioned by his character. Sure, he appears to be this free loving understanding guy, but he's pretty selective and kinda fake. I enjoy him when he's lecturing some of my favorite literature, and in some ways, he reminds me very much of my dad, but it's hard to really get excited about talking to him. Kaplan's different. He appears to be a hard ass, but deep down he's a real softy. Or maybe that's just how I percieve it. I've always had a soft spot for hard-ass teachers. But even Kaplan sometimes seems like he doesn't really give a shit.

This also adds to my feeling of not being accepted at the Humanities Magnet. I've fallen through the cracks because I'm not the Jana La Brascas or the Noa O.'s of the world, but I'm not a failing student. And I have all these ideas and things that I wanna show them, but I go unnoticed and that makes me feel incredibly left out.

Well, tonight I got this e-mail from Kaplan.

Just read your draft and I'm left speechless and in tears. I'd be honored
to be a part of this project. So very sorry about the summons the day Scott
Mr K"

I know it's not much, but it made me very happy. Finally, I am noticed for my ideas and abilities. And for a brief moment, it feels amazing.


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Across the Universe... [29 Sep 2007|12:32am]
[ mood | escaping from reality ]

...might possibly be the greatest movie of all time.

One word to describe it: Orgasmic.

It had Beatles music.

It had amazing graphic effects/art stuff.

It was set in the 60's.

It was basically a musical.

Are we really surprised that I absolutely adored this movie? I mean, C'MON!

Seriously though, quite possibly the greatest film ever.

And I couldn't have seen it with better people. They were perfect to see it with, they were as excited as me and as open about singing the beatles songs as I was. That hasn't happened in awhile, and it was nice. <3

I must admit, it's quite wonderful to see a movie that truly allows you to escape to another world. When even after you've left the theatre, that giddy feeling you get still rings throughout the rest of the day, no matter what else happens. This movie has inspired me to no end.

And I fucking love it.

"Nothing's gonna change my world..."


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Reality Sucks [22 Sep 2007|12:11pm]
[ mood | disappointed ]

I had a dream about a boy
I often stare at during class
And although I can never talk to him in person
The dream told otherwise

I dreamt that we were living together
A union of two similarly different worlds
Forced upon by a familiar agreement
Of a love that wasn't ours

Months had passed under this household
And we had grown awkwardly close
Yet still distant whenever I'd think
Of ever becoming passionate with him

He had feelings for another
A cute petite with short brown hair
And I thought how perfect they looked
And how I wasn't meant to be in that picture

Other stories commenced in this dream:
A trio seeking fortune in the land of good times
A couple rekindling their flame long since put out
A man in a jewlery store who yearned for the stage

Yet all of these stories
Seemed to collide
At one very crucial moment
Out in the city, where the skyscrapers shine bright

He walked over to the girl
Sitting obediently on the side walk
And whispered something in her ear
And kissed her on the lips

I looked away in jealousy
And as he went towards me
The girl was suddenly jumping from a building
With breath visible from her pretty lips

She jumped
Just as he leaned over to kiss me
She flew across the city like a bird
And said, almost in a whisper, "Take care of him."

As we pulled from our embrace
I looked up at the shining city
And thought to myself that I would be the type
To make a movie out of this

And then I awoke
And decided to call the man I destest
Rather than try for the guy
I could see myself falling for

There is something seriously wrong with this world...


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E.E. Cummings and Sydney White Inspired [22 Sep 2007|12:19am]
[ mood | (temporarily)at ease with life ]

Who knows if college
Is a magical world where anything
Is possible(and
if I could be a part of that
Then maybe you and I could
fly there
--to the place
-----where geeks become dreamy
And popularity is a (minor) setback

Where the parties are
And everyone is happy

Where there's someone
For every(one)
Even in
Places where you
Might least expect them

Where impossible dreams are fulfilled
In record time
By one ugly beauty
Who is very,
----much like us)?

If so
(Or perhaps something like it)
Then maybe
I might grow to like that kind of world...


P.S. Hi-ho <3

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(No So)Breaking News! [15 Sep 2007|06:16am]
[ mood | annoyed ]

I have come to the conclusion that men are STUPID.

...that is all. We now return you to your regularly scheduled broadcast.


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The Letter of a Lifetime [14 Sep 2007|06:14pm]
[ mood | glee! ]

This is the greatest thing I have ever read in my entire life. All bow before such great-ness:

I can now die a happy woman...

Take THAT hamilton music academy! I am awesome.


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aaaaaand we're BACK! [14 Sep 2007|03:02am]
[ mood | calm in anticipation ]

Actually, we came back a few days ago, but whatever. Same diff.

So we went.

A funeral ensued.

More on that later...

And...we're back, essentially. The three of us at least.

What's left of the "Claster Family" at least...

And although everything seems like it's back to normal, I know it will never be.

And that's...okay.

In other news, school has started and senior year so far appears...pretty fabulous. True, I don't have all the wonderful people who've helped me survive 9th, 10th, and 11th grade ('cause they're all in college), but I feel as though I finally have control of the classes I want to take and the school experience that I want to have.

If only this could last into college *crosses fingers*.

As for social life, I'm also feeling pleasantly surprised. I'm finding some really cool "Class of 08'" people in the woodwork that I never realized were truly awesome. Are they "more than school-mate friend potential"? Only time will tell.

But for now, I almost feel like I'm in 9th grade again, and it feels fucking fantastic.

The only thing bothering me is that Devyn hasn't returned my calls in over a month.

And the thing about it that bothers me the most is...why does it bother me?

Meh, I guess it's about time I stop eating take out food and start going out and finding a place to eat.

(If you don't understand that metaphor, then...nevermind)

Speaking of "potential romantic interests (or lack thereof)" what is it with the increasingly attractive Underclassmen!? WHAT GIVES!? Some of these kids (one in particular) used to be so dweeby and didn't even register on my radar. Now, they're really cute!

This just adds to the feeling of being back in 9th grade because I remember when I was a Freshmen and all the Seniors and Juniors thought I was cool/attractive. Maybe it's 9th grade reverse?

I don't even know, but I'm loving the ironic kooky-ness of it all.

I feel like a great weight has been lifted, like now's my time to get out there and have some serious fun.

Lord knows it's about time.

Senior year's gonna be interesting, I can just feel it.

Till next time--signing off...


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Ring in the New Year [05 Sep 2007|11:14pm]
[ mood | devastated ]

My Uncle finally passed away today at 2:30 PM. I can't say that I am pleased by this news, but I can say that I am relieved that his suffering has been put to an end. I am going to miss him more than anyone can comprehend. This isn't fair. And I am truly at a loss...

Today sucked. Class schedules went wrong, people we stereotypically anti-social (although surprising I did make some new friends which I thought was next to impossible), and things I thought would be the greatest ended up being moderately...anti-climactic. Perhaps senior year won't be as great as I had hyped it up to be? Or perhaps recent tragic events have made me a bit cynical. I'd settle for it being the latter. But regardless, all I can think about is that my Uncle is gone and I will never see him again.

I will always love him. Always.

This is going to be a very difficult few days.

What a way to ring in the new year. Maybe it's a sign that things'll get better from here? Well, here's hoping...


P.S. As I'm dealing with this tragedy, I've been listening to "No One is Alone" from Into the Woods. I find it very comforting and extremely depressingly beautiful all at once. Strange no? Anyway, I made a script where I imagine all my friends and mostly family singing the various parts and...well..maybe they would never actually sing this (especially since one of them is not with us) I find it extremely comforting that it symbolizes how strongly I feel about these people, especially my uncle.

No One Is AloneCollapse )

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