"If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth."
That's right. I bought my own copy of Catcher in the Rye today! $3.50 at my favorite used bookstore. I could have bought a new copy for seven dollars, but I didn't like the illustrations on the front cover. Something about the picture was too happy; I'm very peculiar about the illustrations on book covers. If I don't feel that they match with my perception of the book, I'll buy a different edition. So I went for the used copy, which, coincidentally, was the same version I rented from the library the first time I read it. I felt a connection with it, so I had to buy that one. Buying a cheaper version also left more room to indulge in something that caught my eye as soon as I walked in the crowded shop. *ahem* "The Golden Age of Russian Literature"; for $9.50. That's right! I got a beautiful, hard-back overview of all the most prominent Russian writers and their works for ten bucks (with pictures, too!!!!). I'm very excited about this treasure...I read the inside flap, and as soon as I read the words, "this book is an indispensable reference for any library", I had to buy it. I love the word indispensable..... Have I mentioned my obsession with words and the affect they have on my buying habits? Hmm, I suppose that's another story entirely.
Anyways, all this to say that I've bought more books that won't fit on my bookshelf and I'm too deliriously happy to care.
*on another note, I got another phone call from the library. Great Expectations is waiting for me!.... I had to renew five of my books. I'm making a mental note to never check out more than three books from the library at a time. ;)
___________________________________________________________________
The last day of school was very bittersweet for me. I've been going to the same school ever since sixth grade, and I've met a lot of wonderful friends there. There was a lot of emotional stuff going on for me that day. I was saying goodbye not only to fellow graduates, but to underclassmen that I had come to know and cherish, and realizing that I won't see them everyday anymore was really hard. Not only was I saying goodbye to those that will be there if I ever return to visit, but a lot of friends that should be there next year aren't coming back. So when I do visit, I won't see everyone. And I was also saying goodbye to people that even though I wasn't close with, I've seen their faces almost everyday for the past six years. It was the end of an era for the school- an entire class of kids wasn't going to be there anymore. Knowing that upon return, most familiarity won't accompany me, was really sad. I still get a little bit sad when I think about it. I spent the night at a friend's house after school was over, and we watched The Breakfast Club. I'm not sure if that helped heal the sorrow or antagonize the wound. It certainly was entertaining, though. :) It is definitely one of the most quotable movies ever (I.e, "does Barry Manilow know you raid his closet?" and my personal favorite, "What if your dope was on fire?- "Impossible sir, it's in Johnson's underwear").
I didn't have much time to dwell on the end of an era, however, as a dear out-of-town friend was at my house for the weekend. We went to the graduation of several childhood friends, partied hard at the dance afterwards, and spent lots of time laughing, talking and taking the time to watch Footloose because she had never seen it. It was a good weekend, and even though I miss everyone, it has been really nice not having to go to classes at all this week. :)
Oh! before I forget! I must inform you that I DID get the callback and I got the job at the pizzeria. I'm really excited! Graduating and getting a job. Wow. Go me.
I also have found my favorite lyric for the week...it's actually more of a verse, but here goes.
"Everytime we get up are we destined to fall? and I'm asking myself is it worth this at all? Every corner we turn we just run into walls, because loving you feels like a kick in the balls." (Only the Strong Survive-McFly)
can't tell you why, but I love this line. Maybe because it's pretty ballsy. No pun intended. ;)
I'm getting back on the wagon, starting this week as well.
The Wagon consists of grilled chicken, broccoli, brown rice, salad, protein shakes, eggs, only high fiber and multigrain bread, soy products, protein bars and fresh fruit. And it omits caffeine, sodas, most juices, most carbohydrates, most fatty meats and all sweets.
It also entails running three times a week, yoga every night, pilates every other day and bikerides as often as possible, mixed in with various ab workouts and long walks.
The Wagon is usually a very happy place for me. I'm excited to get back on it, and I hate getting off of it, but usually after the holidays every single Winter I get bogged down with school and seasonal blues and by the time spring rolls around I never look quite the same as I did the summer before.
So here I come. I'm working at the zoo again this summer, and trying to slim down for a friend's wedding, and I'd love a new swimsuit.
My life's really looking pretty great right now.
Nine days left til graduation. Nine days until I become a college freshman!
Ta ta for now.
Xx
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Yesterday, Rantings on Twilight, and Realizing It's Time To Say Goodbye
Yesterday was a mission.
It was one of those horrible days when no matter how many times you fix your hair, or force a smile, you still feel like the ugliest person on the face of the planet. It was also incredibly blustery and ugly weather-wise and the fact that I had my first day of "last class of the year!" blues, I wasn't in a great mood by three'o'clock yesterday afternoon.
Feeling especially fat and unattractive after seeing myself in the mirror wearing sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, my mom asks me to go shopping with her. I went. Mistake. The past week or so, we've been trying to find a dress for my graduation, and yesterday she wanted to try some more. Honestly, if you're having a day where you feel unsightly and like you shouldn't be allowed in public, don't go shopping for a graduation dress. It's awful.
Bemoaning the fact that I still had to wake up the next morning and the next morning after that, we left the store and mom took off to work. I was alone. This was wonderful. I've been having one of those weeks where I just am better off being alone, and not just "at- home-in -my- room- alone". I need to be "alone- without -a -single -familiar -face -in -a -five-mile -radius" kind of alone. It's almost unbearable to be around people during some parts of these weeks- I really have to hold it in to be civil and polite to others. So anyways, being alone calms me down a lot. I become very domestic when I'm alone. I started my laundry, and made plans to clean the bathroom when I was done with my other tasks. *it didn't exactly get done. Tomorrow, I say.* I got some homework done, and then I made dinner. Roast beef with mashed potatoes and homemade gravy. This could just be the food-lover inside of me talking, but there's something about being in a kitchen that just puts everything else into perspective. I think its because everything has a purpose and a place to go, and I'm in charge of making those purposes fulfilled and placing those things where they need to go. Dinner was delicious, and it was at this time that I sat down with my dad to watch a VH1 Behind the Music on Meat Loaf. An hour passed. I cleaned the kitchen and began to bake my grandmother's sour cream chocolate cake recipe for my Lit. teacher, as today was my last class. I've taken her classes for three years.
Once again in the kitchen, things just made sense. Left and right. In goes the flour and the sugar and the melted chocolate, the butter the sour cream and the baking powder. While it was baking, I decided to combat my feelings of sluggishness by doing an hour of yoga. High to low push-up, upward-dog cobra, downward facing dog flow. repeat. Namaste. Then, as the cake was cooling, the inner domestic goddess came out and demanded to be worshipped. So, I rotated the laundry again, spruced up the kitchen, and the upstairs bathroom. Then, I stole a few extra candles out of the downstairs cupboard and lit four or five of them in my bathroom, put on a playlist of my favorite sexy songs, and took a nice, long hot shower. I shaved my legs. I broke in a new bottle of body lotion. I was on top of the world by that point.
I traipsed downstairs, after re-sprucing the bathroom again, to check on the cake. It wouldn't come out of the pans. Drat. I've done this once, and I've done this a thousand times. I leave the cake in the cakepan too long and it becomes stuck. I try everything to get it out. I run a knife around the edges of the cake to seperate it from the sides of the pan. I turn it over and bang the butt end of a knife against the bottom trying to shake it out. I even turn the oven back on to warm it back up, in hopes that it would just slide out. No success. By this time, my inner goddess is no longer in control. My inner hellion is starting to surface. She is a force to be reckoned with, for sure.
I end up getting a tad bit frustrated, and my cake splits....breaks... and tumbles all over the counter in a large mess of crumbled chocolate. My spirits break. I start to hyperventilate.. It was nearing 9:30 P.M.
All I wanted to do was watch New Moon and go to bed at a decent time. Fate had other plans, it would seem. My dear mother calmed me down, and I had no choice but to shake out the other cake layer, wash out the pans, and start over. So. At 10:15 P.M. I am finally out of the kitchen, and ready to laugh at the cheesiness of another Twilight movie. Oh, how wrong I was. For another two and a half hours, I sat, stupefied in front of the screen. I was so mad by the end I could have strangled something. What a waste of my time. I'm not going to go into the details right now, I'm too horrified, but I do have one thing to say, and it is this: whoever was in charge of casting, you are an idiot. How hard is it to find a Jacob Black who actually LOOKS Native American? Honestly. Taylor Pretty-Boy-Whatsisface doesn't even look Indian. You are a horrible casting director, and you fail miserably at life. Oh, and your makeup crew? Did you hire them in the dark? Um... because they are tragically unfortunate and not talented at all.
Don't even get me started on the fake muscles, melodrama, and bad acting. I am prone to go on for hours.
In short, my evening did not go as well as I should have hoped, but it was definitely an experience. Amongst other things: tomorrow is my last day of high school.
I am rather emotional right now, and I'm not really sure how to manifest these feelings. I'm not sure where they belong in the "creative outlet" department. I was going to do some more yoga, but I'm a little sore from yesterday, plus I ran this morning and I think I'll just take the night off.
I just can't believe it's over. I mean, I'm so excited. Honestly, I didn't even think I was going to be sad at all. I haven't suffered a bit of "senior-itis" all year. I've been too thrilled to "escape the hell-hole" to even realize that I'm actually leaving... But now, on my last night of being a kid, I'm realizing how much of my life has been changed and shaped in the past four years. I guess it's all a part of growing up. Still, life is exciting, isn't it? There's always something coming around the corner that makes us want to keep on living. It's a beautiful thing. :)
Well, wish me luck.
Tomorrow I'm saying goodbye to a world of people, classes, memories, emotions, hurt, love, tragedy and drama.
Look at me, talking about how much I despise melodrama and here I am making a huge deal out of nothing. I am a horrible hypocrit.
That's all for now, kids.
Sweet dreams!
P.S. The cake turned out beautifully. It was delicious. :)
It was one of those horrible days when no matter how many times you fix your hair, or force a smile, you still feel like the ugliest person on the face of the planet. It was also incredibly blustery and ugly weather-wise and the fact that I had my first day of "last class of the year!" blues, I wasn't in a great mood by three'o'clock yesterday afternoon.
Feeling especially fat and unattractive after seeing myself in the mirror wearing sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, my mom asks me to go shopping with her. I went. Mistake. The past week or so, we've been trying to find a dress for my graduation, and yesterday she wanted to try some more. Honestly, if you're having a day where you feel unsightly and like you shouldn't be allowed in public, don't go shopping for a graduation dress. It's awful.
Bemoaning the fact that I still had to wake up the next morning and the next morning after that, we left the store and mom took off to work. I was alone. This was wonderful. I've been having one of those weeks where I just am better off being alone, and not just "at- home-in -my- room- alone". I need to be "alone- without -a -single -familiar -face -in -a -five-mile -radius" kind of alone. It's almost unbearable to be around people during some parts of these weeks- I really have to hold it in to be civil and polite to others. So anyways, being alone calms me down a lot. I become very domestic when I'm alone. I started my laundry, and made plans to clean the bathroom when I was done with my other tasks. *it didn't exactly get done. Tomorrow, I say.* I got some homework done, and then I made dinner. Roast beef with mashed potatoes and homemade gravy. This could just be the food-lover inside of me talking, but there's something about being in a kitchen that just puts everything else into perspective. I think its because everything has a purpose and a place to go, and I'm in charge of making those purposes fulfilled and placing those things where they need to go. Dinner was delicious, and it was at this time that I sat down with my dad to watch a VH1 Behind the Music on Meat Loaf. An hour passed. I cleaned the kitchen and began to bake my grandmother's sour cream chocolate cake recipe for my Lit. teacher, as today was my last class. I've taken her classes for three years.
Once again in the kitchen, things just made sense. Left and right. In goes the flour and the sugar and the melted chocolate, the butter the sour cream and the baking powder. While it was baking, I decided to combat my feelings of sluggishness by doing an hour of yoga. High to low push-up, upward-dog cobra, downward facing dog flow. repeat. Namaste. Then, as the cake was cooling, the inner domestic goddess came out and demanded to be worshipped. So, I rotated the laundry again, spruced up the kitchen, and the upstairs bathroom. Then, I stole a few extra candles out of the downstairs cupboard and lit four or five of them in my bathroom, put on a playlist of my favorite sexy songs, and took a nice, long hot shower. I shaved my legs. I broke in a new bottle of body lotion. I was on top of the world by that point.
I traipsed downstairs, after re-sprucing the bathroom again, to check on the cake. It wouldn't come out of the pans. Drat. I've done this once, and I've done this a thousand times. I leave the cake in the cakepan too long and it becomes stuck. I try everything to get it out. I run a knife around the edges of the cake to seperate it from the sides of the pan. I turn it over and bang the butt end of a knife against the bottom trying to shake it out. I even turn the oven back on to warm it back up, in hopes that it would just slide out. No success. By this time, my inner goddess is no longer in control. My inner hellion is starting to surface. She is a force to be reckoned with, for sure.
I end up getting a tad bit frustrated, and my cake splits....breaks... and tumbles all over the counter in a large mess of crumbled chocolate. My spirits break. I start to hyperventilate.. It was nearing 9:30 P.M.
All I wanted to do was watch New Moon and go to bed at a decent time. Fate had other plans, it would seem. My dear mother calmed me down, and I had no choice but to shake out the other cake layer, wash out the pans, and start over. So. At 10:15 P.M. I am finally out of the kitchen, and ready to laugh at the cheesiness of another Twilight movie. Oh, how wrong I was. For another two and a half hours, I sat, stupefied in front of the screen. I was so mad by the end I could have strangled something. What a waste of my time. I'm not going to go into the details right now, I'm too horrified, but I do have one thing to say, and it is this: whoever was in charge of casting, you are an idiot. How hard is it to find a Jacob Black who actually LOOKS Native American? Honestly. Taylor Pretty-Boy-Whatsisface doesn't even look Indian. You are a horrible casting director, and you fail miserably at life. Oh, and your makeup crew? Did you hire them in the dark? Um... because they are tragically unfortunate and not talented at all.
Don't even get me started on the fake muscles, melodrama, and bad acting. I am prone to go on for hours.
In short, my evening did not go as well as I should have hoped, but it was definitely an experience. Amongst other things: tomorrow is my last day of high school.
I am rather emotional right now, and I'm not really sure how to manifest these feelings. I'm not sure where they belong in the "creative outlet" department. I was going to do some more yoga, but I'm a little sore from yesterday, plus I ran this morning and I think I'll just take the night off.
I just can't believe it's over. I mean, I'm so excited. Honestly, I didn't even think I was going to be sad at all. I haven't suffered a bit of "senior-itis" all year. I've been too thrilled to "escape the hell-hole" to even realize that I'm actually leaving... But now, on my last night of being a kid, I'm realizing how much of my life has been changed and shaped in the past four years. I guess it's all a part of growing up. Still, life is exciting, isn't it? There's always something coming around the corner that makes us want to keep on living. It's a beautiful thing. :)
Well, wish me luck.
Tomorrow I'm saying goodbye to a world of people, classes, memories, emotions, hurt, love, tragedy and drama.
Look at me, talking about how much I despise melodrama and here I am making a huge deal out of nothing. I am a horrible hypocrit.
That's all for now, kids.
Sweet dreams!
P.S. The cake turned out beautifully. It was delicious. :)
Sunday, May 16, 2010
I'm messy and I'm loud and I love to spin
I have a couple things I want to share with you guys.
I wrote this about a month ago.
-----
I'm messy and I'm loud. My bedroom carpet is littered with guitar picks.
I spill things and I curse frequently.
I cook obsessively and I idolize Julia Child. It's not healthy.
Neither is her cooking.
I'm disorganized and dysfunctional. The light in my ceiling has been out for months.
I'm insane because I wish I was insane.
Really, I'm so sane that sometimes it drives me crazy.
I resent you because you don't read Russian Literature.
I resent myself because I don't read Russian Literature, either.
I'm stubborn and I'm proud. I can hold a grudge for way too long.
I have more prejudices than I'd like to admit....
And of course, I can never be wrong.
Even though I always am.
I'm unreasonable and I'm demanding. I have double standards.
I'm impatient and annoying. Its bad when you annoy yourself.
I believe in love.
But I also know that the best part of believe is the 'lie'.
There's things I've done that make me sick.
And there's things I've done that I'm too proud of.
I read dark poetry and I watch tragic movies.
I laugh at everything.
I'm not unstable, even though sometimes I wish I was.
Is that odd? Don't answer that.
I have faith in God- though I don't deserve His grace.
I walk a fine line between ungraceful and disgraceful.
Its one of my many talents.
I get upset easily and its not pleasant when I'm mad.
I like to throw things.
I say that I'm environmentally aware, but really I'm a huge waster.
I waste copious amounts of water and energy on taking baths and drying my hair before bed.
I'm passionate and I'm unrealistic.
I'm aware of my surroundings but I'm one of the most unobservant people you'll ever meet.
I'm unprofessional and I get myself into a lot of sticky situations.
I'm an obsessive worrier and sometimes I wish I was a compulsive liar.
I don't have the guts to lie.
I'm as stubborn as a German, hot-tempered as an Irishman, and as snooty as a Frenchman.
I'm terrified of large crowds, and I fear the inevitable mundane.
I'm rarely content and hard to please.
I will always choose my family over you.
I don't trust easy and I don't like new people.
I'm high-strung, and I love the color green.
I'm contemplative and I'm nostalgic.
I believe in laughing, loving, and living to the fullest.
And even though I'm crazy, I'm just me.
It's kind of fun being this dysfunctional.
----- and I wrote this a few weeks ago for my sister.
When I was little, my sister and I used to have spinning contests all the time; anytime at all, no matter where we were, we'd just spread our arms and start spinning-round and round and round until we were so dizzy we couldn't see straight. The trick is to never, ever look at the ground; closing your eyes helps too, but its sort of dangerous. :)
Anyways, when my sister went away to college, I missed her a lot and our spinning contests ceased to exist as she was no longer there to spin with me. One year, at Family Camp, I was down by the 'adult campfire' (which was only different from the 'kids campfire' in that there were no songs about smushing baby bumble bees and the smell of cigars replaced the smell of roasted marshmallows) and my sister, returning from college for the summer, came running over the sand-dunes. I hadn't seen her in several months, and the first thing she did was grab my hand and, breaking into a full run, pulled me down towards the water's edge. When she let go, she yelled, "Let's spin!" and we were off, like two colorful tops spinning around and around in the wet sand. It's one of my most favorite memories from growing up. I was thinking about it a few weeks ago, and then I wrote this song.
Words are falling like leaves from a tree
thoughts are spinning like you and me/
don't stop spinning-
don't look down-
keep on spinning round/
waves may tremble
winds may roar/
boats may sink
to the bottom of the ocean floor/
but don't stop spinning-
don't look down-
keep on spinning round/
I remember countless times
spinning in the sand
with you by my side/
so don't stop spinning
don't look down-
keep on spinning round/
and I'll be there
spinning beside you/
lost in the rush
and the smell of the air/
together we'll spin
by the oceanside/
with you by my side
with you by my side/
I wrote this about a month ago.
-----
I'm messy and I'm loud. My bedroom carpet is littered with guitar picks.
I spill things and I curse frequently.
I cook obsessively and I idolize Julia Child. It's not healthy.
Neither is her cooking.
I'm disorganized and dysfunctional. The light in my ceiling has been out for months.
I'm insane because I wish I was insane.
Really, I'm so sane that sometimes it drives me crazy.
I resent you because you don't read Russian Literature.
I resent myself because I don't read Russian Literature, either.
I'm stubborn and I'm proud. I can hold a grudge for way too long.
I have more prejudices than I'd like to admit....
And of course, I can never be wrong.
Even though I always am.
I'm unreasonable and I'm demanding. I have double standards.
I'm impatient and annoying. Its bad when you annoy yourself.
I believe in love.
But I also know that the best part of believe is the 'lie'.
There's things I've done that make me sick.
And there's things I've done that I'm too proud of.
I read dark poetry and I watch tragic movies.
I laugh at everything.
I'm not unstable, even though sometimes I wish I was.
Is that odd? Don't answer that.
I have faith in God- though I don't deserve His grace.
I walk a fine line between ungraceful and disgraceful.
Its one of my many talents.
I get upset easily and its not pleasant when I'm mad.
I like to throw things.
I say that I'm environmentally aware, but really I'm a huge waster.
I waste copious amounts of water and energy on taking baths and drying my hair before bed.
I'm passionate and I'm unrealistic.
I'm aware of my surroundings but I'm one of the most unobservant people you'll ever meet.
I'm unprofessional and I get myself into a lot of sticky situations.
I'm an obsessive worrier and sometimes I wish I was a compulsive liar.
I don't have the guts to lie.
I'm as stubborn as a German, hot-tempered as an Irishman, and as snooty as a Frenchman.
I'm terrified of large crowds, and I fear the inevitable mundane.
I'm rarely content and hard to please.
I will always choose my family over you.
I don't trust easy and I don't like new people.
I'm high-strung, and I love the color green.
I'm contemplative and I'm nostalgic.
I believe in laughing, loving, and living to the fullest.
And even though I'm crazy, I'm just me.
It's kind of fun being this dysfunctional.
----- and I wrote this a few weeks ago for my sister.
When I was little, my sister and I used to have spinning contests all the time; anytime at all, no matter where we were, we'd just spread our arms and start spinning-round and round and round until we were so dizzy we couldn't see straight. The trick is to never, ever look at the ground; closing your eyes helps too, but its sort of dangerous. :)
Anyways, when my sister went away to college, I missed her a lot and our spinning contests ceased to exist as she was no longer there to spin with me. One year, at Family Camp, I was down by the 'adult campfire' (which was only different from the 'kids campfire' in that there were no songs about smushing baby bumble bees and the smell of cigars replaced the smell of roasted marshmallows) and my sister, returning from college for the summer, came running over the sand-dunes. I hadn't seen her in several months, and the first thing she did was grab my hand and, breaking into a full run, pulled me down towards the water's edge. When she let go, she yelled, "Let's spin!" and we were off, like two colorful tops spinning around and around in the wet sand. It's one of my most favorite memories from growing up. I was thinking about it a few weeks ago, and then I wrote this song.
Words are falling like leaves from a tree
thoughts are spinning like you and me/
don't stop spinning-
don't look down-
keep on spinning round/
waves may tremble
winds may roar/
boats may sink
to the bottom of the ocean floor/
but don't stop spinning-
don't look down-
keep on spinning round/
I remember countless times
spinning in the sand
with you by my side/
so don't stop spinning
don't look down-
keep on spinning round/
and I'll be there
spinning beside you/
lost in the rush
and the smell of the air/
together we'll spin
by the oceanside/
with you by my side
with you by my side/
Friday, May 14, 2010
My Burning Casket
I wrapped my heart in packaging tape, but it still shattered when I sent it off to you.
I saw your heart sitting on a one-way road, I never should have stopped to ask your name, now the world has grown cold...
Chug down the remnants of that bottle, babe, one sip for ruining my life, one sip for ending yours, and one sip just for the memories.
My words are sober, why does life grow colder? Who are we to say, 'your eyes are the lights of my sinless city'?
I'd write your name in the sky, and dream of a world without lies.
These words are my burning casket, there's a question but you'll never ask it.
I'm lying here, it's half past the hour where shadows don't even walk the streets.
I know you're happy with her, but who's gonna repair my light fixtures now that you're gone?
I wish I could give you the moon, but I just can't reach it, I wish I could give you my world, but it's just too big to carry- I wish I could give you my heart, but I'm too selfish to give it away so I'll give you my time in hopes that you won't throw me away.
The stars whiz by and begin to fade like Peter watching Wendy grow up each day, until she's gone, gone, gone.
The silence penetrates my ears, here on this wonderwall of solid ground. The empty ravages of blissful hope twist and turn me round and round.
We had plans to grow up and to freefall among the stars, what happened to make us fall so far from who we are?
Teenage poetry couldn't cover all the things you meant to me.
Like a blood-red rose on a black coffin door, you signify to me life in its truest form.
I can see the brilliant hues.
In a sea of people screaming out to me, I only want to hear you whisper my name.
And the chip on my shoulder is only the tip of what's left of my lonely, broken heart.
I saw your heart sitting on a one-way road, I never should have stopped to ask your name, now the world has grown cold...
Chug down the remnants of that bottle, babe, one sip for ruining my life, one sip for ending yours, and one sip just for the memories.
My words are sober, why does life grow colder? Who are we to say, 'your eyes are the lights of my sinless city'?
I'd write your name in the sky, and dream of a world without lies.
These words are my burning casket, there's a question but you'll never ask it.
I'm lying here, it's half past the hour where shadows don't even walk the streets.
I know you're happy with her, but who's gonna repair my light fixtures now that you're gone?
I wish I could give you the moon, but I just can't reach it, I wish I could give you my world, but it's just too big to carry- I wish I could give you my heart, but I'm too selfish to give it away so I'll give you my time in hopes that you won't throw me away.
The stars whiz by and begin to fade like Peter watching Wendy grow up each day, until she's gone, gone, gone.
The silence penetrates my ears, here on this wonderwall of solid ground. The empty ravages of blissful hope twist and turn me round and round.
We had plans to grow up and to freefall among the stars, what happened to make us fall so far from who we are?
Teenage poetry couldn't cover all the things you meant to me.
Like a blood-red rose on a black coffin door, you signify to me life in its truest form.
I can see the brilliant hues.
In a sea of people screaming out to me, I only want to hear you whisper my name.
And the chip on my shoulder is only the tip of what's left of my lonely, broken heart.
Thursday, May 13, 2010
Here Comes the Sun.... Doo din doo doo
I changed the scenery around a little bit! What do you think?
I've decided to be more grammar-conscious from now on with my blogposts. Hopefully, they will be less like jumbled thought processes and more like concise prose. We'll see.
No phonecall yet from the pizzeria. I'm beginning to suspect that I didn't get the job. I'm not incredibly bummed though, it all seemed a little too good to be true in the first place. :)
It has been a gorgeous day today; the sunshine in Oregon rivals the sunshine anywhere else.
I'm a little shrimpy colored today. I sat out in the sun for about an hour and having incredibly pale Irish skin, I got rather burnt. My face feels somewhat leathery.
I haven't gotten any new phonecalls from the library either. I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I've finished To Kill a Mockingbird, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (in order to save time, I have decided not to read the other short stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald as I'm not incredibly interested in them and I have too many other large books to finish. If I have time, I will read them.) and am halfway through the abridged version of Les Miserables that I didn't realize I ordered. I thought it was a mite small upon picking it up from the library.... I found out last night the original is over 1200 pages. Mine's not even a full two hundred. To be incredibly honest, I'm not sure it's worth continuing if they've cut 1000 pages out. I would like to be at least somewhat familiar with the storyline, so I think I shall finish it.... and during the next batch of hopefully smaller books, I'll rent the real Les Mis. I also started Jane Eyre and am making good progress in Anna Karenina, which I'm loving more and more the farther I get.
Ah, literature. :)
In other news, I've discovered my new favorite lyric of the week! I was listening to old Bon Jovi songs from the 90s (another one of my odd musical obsessions) and came across this beauty, "If you don't love me, lie to me". I know, it sounds very simple, but for some reason that just wrenched my heart. I think its the fear and the desperation that I love about it. I also thought it was an interesting concept: I'd rather be lied to than told that I'm not loved. I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. Sounds like it would be a very interesting discussion to have amongst friends.
Well, I hate to cut this short, but I'm off to enjoy the weather some more by taking a walk. I love evening walks.. I like to say that I do my best thinking in the shower, and on walks. :)
Faithfully yours,
Xx
I've decided to be more grammar-conscious from now on with my blogposts. Hopefully, they will be less like jumbled thought processes and more like concise prose. We'll see.
No phonecall yet from the pizzeria. I'm beginning to suspect that I didn't get the job. I'm not incredibly bummed though, it all seemed a little too good to be true in the first place. :)
It has been a gorgeous day today; the sunshine in Oregon rivals the sunshine anywhere else.
I'm a little shrimpy colored today. I sat out in the sun for about an hour and having incredibly pale Irish skin, I got rather burnt. My face feels somewhat leathery.
I haven't gotten any new phonecalls from the library either. I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I've finished To Kill a Mockingbird, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (in order to save time, I have decided not to read the other short stories of F. Scott Fitzgerald as I'm not incredibly interested in them and I have too many other large books to finish. If I have time, I will read them.) and am halfway through the abridged version of Les Miserables that I didn't realize I ordered. I thought it was a mite small upon picking it up from the library.... I found out last night the original is over 1200 pages. Mine's not even a full two hundred. To be incredibly honest, I'm not sure it's worth continuing if they've cut 1000 pages out. I would like to be at least somewhat familiar with the storyline, so I think I shall finish it.... and during the next batch of hopefully smaller books, I'll rent the real Les Mis. I also started Jane Eyre and am making good progress in Anna Karenina, which I'm loving more and more the farther I get.
Ah, literature. :)
In other news, I've discovered my new favorite lyric of the week! I was listening to old Bon Jovi songs from the 90s (another one of my odd musical obsessions) and came across this beauty, "If you don't love me, lie to me". I know, it sounds very simple, but for some reason that just wrenched my heart. I think its the fear and the desperation that I love about it. I also thought it was an interesting concept: I'd rather be lied to than told that I'm not loved. I'm not quite sure how I feel about that. Sounds like it would be a very interesting discussion to have amongst friends.
Well, I hate to cut this short, but I'm off to enjoy the weather some more by taking a walk. I love evening walks.. I like to say that I do my best thinking in the shower, and on walks. :)
Faithfully yours,
Xx
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
"Welcome to another day of higher education..."
As I predicted yesterday, my day today has been much happier. :)
Yesterday got progressively better as the day wore on as well... and it ended in me getting offered a job! Yay! We'll wait and see whether or not it works out. I'm expecting a phone call in a few days or so.
Today, I stopped by the library to pick up a few books that I had placed on hold.
I discovered something of great beauty on BarnesandNoble.com a few days ago. It's a 199 volume collection of classic novels, short stories, poems and other prose by history's greatest writers for the discounted price of $980.00
Now, to a fanatic reader like myself, this is mouthwatering. However, I simply do not have the funds to spend one thousand dollars on 199 books. So what I decided to do, and very brilliantly I thought, I decided to go through the list of all 199 volumes and read the ones that I've never read before. Why not?
So, after logging on to my local library's website, I got to clicking. What I didn't keep track of, however, was how many books I was placing on hold at one time. I figured this out the hard way today as it has been my second trip into the library this week to pick up new books....
Anyways, the first trip in earlier this week I picked up two books. Well, one novel, and one tome. I mean really, how could someone write for 900 pages? Anna Karenina hasn't disappointed me yet, though. I hope the next 800 pages entertain me as much as the first 100 have, but I digress. So upon receiving another phonecall, I head to the library today to pick up what i'm expecting to be one or two more books in addition to the two I already have.
What do I see when I get there? Not two more books, no, but instead six pink paper slips with my name printed on them in typewriter font are staring at me, rubber-banded to six books sitting on the shelf, waiting to be picked up by someone, someone like me. Six.
Six new books from the library. Six plus two equals eight.
Eight books to read in three weeks. And, sadly, I have a very strong feeling that I'll be receiving another phonecall in a few days to alert me to the presence of several more books waiting for me on hold at my dear local library.... for I know that I've got a few more titles 'on hold'.
I've decided to take things a bit easier now..... and to keep better track of how many titles I'm adding to my queue. ;-)
On the other hand, I am very excited about the titles currently in my possession.
Here's my list so far:
Anna Karenina- Leo Tolstoy
To Kill a Mockingbird- Harper Lee
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Other Jazz Age Stories- F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Age of Innocence- Edith Wharton
Les Miserables- Victor Hugo
The Beatiful and Damned- F. Scott Fitzgerald
Jane Eyre- Charlotte Bronte
Dead Souls- Nikolai Gogol
in addition to my regular stack which includes Mere Christianity, Collected Short Stories and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe, My Life in France and Blame It On the Brain.
It would appear to some that I have bitten off more than I can chew. It would appear that way to me, too. Nevertheless, I shall persevere. I will win this battle! Onward!
I finished Catcher in the Rye last week. I plan to buy my own copy as soon as humanly possible. It was a fantastic book- one that I will definitely read again. I wrote down quote after quote in my notebook, as I could not bring myself to deface public property by underlining in the library copy, and have looked over the quotes several times and found myself laughing.
Holden Caulfield is such a timeless character. I loved his horrid cynicism and deprecating sarcasm as much as the next person does, but what I also love about him is the depth of his character... His fears and his desires all sort of melt into one giant mix of loneliness and irony that brings you, surprisingly, to identify with him. The book also gives the support to the statement, "Depressed people see the world in a clearer light", by causing you to realize that in Holden's depression, he does have a profound sense of clarity about him. J.D. Salinger did an amazing job with Holden. The entire book is just Holden telling you a story about how he left school early on Christmas Break and hid out in New York for a few days before going home. There wasn't even that much of a plot, really... It wasn't about the story, it was about letting us into Holden's mind and heart.He was such an oddball sort of character, I couldn't help but think that if a movie version had been made, it should have been made in the 80s, and Anthony Michael Hall should have played Holden. He really reminded me of AMH's character in Sixteen Candles, "The Geek".
Not to mention there were some amazing literary treasures in its pages, as well.
"I'm the most terrific liar you ever saw in your life. It's awful." Is possibly one of the greatest starts to a chapter ever. And another of my favorite phrases that just sends shivers up and down my spine, "All I need's an audience. I'm an exhibitionist."
I'm really hoping that all of these new books I'm reading will have a similar effect on me and earn themselves a special place in my heart. One of the greatest accomplishments I can think of is to be well-read, and its people who possess a vast knowledge of literary history that I admire the most. I hope to be one of those people someday, myself.
And then, once I know more about them, I will be willing to spend one thousand dollars on a 199 volume set of books.
.....Or if I get a bunch of money for graduation and save up the rest.
You know, that'd work too. :)
Yesterday got progressively better as the day wore on as well... and it ended in me getting offered a job! Yay! We'll wait and see whether or not it works out. I'm expecting a phone call in a few days or so.
Today, I stopped by the library to pick up a few books that I had placed on hold.
I discovered something of great beauty on BarnesandNoble.com a few days ago. It's a 199 volume collection of classic novels, short stories, poems and other prose by history's greatest writers for the discounted price of $980.00
Now, to a fanatic reader like myself, this is mouthwatering. However, I simply do not have the funds to spend one thousand dollars on 199 books. So what I decided to do, and very brilliantly I thought, I decided to go through the list of all 199 volumes and read the ones that I've never read before. Why not?
So, after logging on to my local library's website, I got to clicking. What I didn't keep track of, however, was how many books I was placing on hold at one time. I figured this out the hard way today as it has been my second trip into the library this week to pick up new books....
Anyways, the first trip in earlier this week I picked up two books. Well, one novel, and one tome. I mean really, how could someone write for 900 pages? Anna Karenina hasn't disappointed me yet, though. I hope the next 800 pages entertain me as much as the first 100 have, but I digress. So upon receiving another phonecall, I head to the library today to pick up what i'm expecting to be one or two more books in addition to the two I already have.
What do I see when I get there? Not two more books, no, but instead six pink paper slips with my name printed on them in typewriter font are staring at me, rubber-banded to six books sitting on the shelf, waiting to be picked up by someone, someone like me. Six.
Six new books from the library. Six plus two equals eight.
Eight books to read in three weeks. And, sadly, I have a very strong feeling that I'll be receiving another phonecall in a few days to alert me to the presence of several more books waiting for me on hold at my dear local library.... for I know that I've got a few more titles 'on hold'.
I've decided to take things a bit easier now..... and to keep better track of how many titles I'm adding to my queue. ;-)
On the other hand, I am very excited about the titles currently in my possession.
Here's my list so far:
Anna Karenina- Leo Tolstoy
To Kill a Mockingbird- Harper Lee
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and Other Jazz Age Stories- F. Scott Fitzgerald
The Age of Innocence- Edith Wharton
Les Miserables- Victor Hugo
The Beatiful and Damned- F. Scott Fitzgerald
Jane Eyre- Charlotte Bronte
Dead Souls- Nikolai Gogol
in addition to my regular stack which includes Mere Christianity, Collected Short Stories and Poems of Edgar Allen Poe, My Life in France and Blame It On the Brain.
It would appear to some that I have bitten off more than I can chew. It would appear that way to me, too. Nevertheless, I shall persevere. I will win this battle! Onward!
I finished Catcher in the Rye last week. I plan to buy my own copy as soon as humanly possible. It was a fantastic book- one that I will definitely read again. I wrote down quote after quote in my notebook, as I could not bring myself to deface public property by underlining in the library copy, and have looked over the quotes several times and found myself laughing.
Holden Caulfield is such a timeless character. I loved his horrid cynicism and deprecating sarcasm as much as the next person does, but what I also love about him is the depth of his character... His fears and his desires all sort of melt into one giant mix of loneliness and irony that brings you, surprisingly, to identify with him. The book also gives the support to the statement, "Depressed people see the world in a clearer light", by causing you to realize that in Holden's depression, he does have a profound sense of clarity about him. J.D. Salinger did an amazing job with Holden. The entire book is just Holden telling you a story about how he left school early on Christmas Break and hid out in New York for a few days before going home. There wasn't even that much of a plot, really... It wasn't about the story, it was about letting us into Holden's mind and heart.He was such an oddball sort of character, I couldn't help but think that if a movie version had been made, it should have been made in the 80s, and Anthony Michael Hall should have played Holden. He really reminded me of AMH's character in Sixteen Candles, "The Geek".
Not to mention there were some amazing literary treasures in its pages, as well.
"I'm the most terrific liar you ever saw in your life. It's awful." Is possibly one of the greatest starts to a chapter ever. And another of my favorite phrases that just sends shivers up and down my spine, "All I need's an audience. I'm an exhibitionist."
I'm really hoping that all of these new books I'm reading will have a similar effect on me and earn themselves a special place in my heart. One of the greatest accomplishments I can think of is to be well-read, and its people who possess a vast knowledge of literary history that I admire the most. I hope to be one of those people someday, myself.
And then, once I know more about them, I will be willing to spend one thousand dollars on a 199 volume set of books.
.....Or if I get a bunch of money for graduation and save up the rest.
You know, that'd work too. :)
Monday, May 10, 2010
Afraid Today
I'm afraid today, and I don't know what I'm afraid of.
... they make it sound so glamorous in the movies, but its not. It's really not.
I go through these fits every so often. Some days I just wake up and I'm terrified.
I'm stressed, I'm tired and I'm frustrated.
They say that those feelings stem from either pain or fear.
I'm not in any great pain right now, physical or emotional.
I'm just afraid, that's all.
I can identify what I'm feeling. I can be aware of my emotions.
I know how to handle these feelings because I have correctly identified them.
But I don't know why they're here.
And that shoots all that other stuff straight to hell.
They say that depressed people see the world in a clearer light.
People who are depressed see truth...I think I can safely agree with that.
I'm not seeing much of anything right now, though.
There's nothing but a whole lot of "What if's?" floating around in my brain, scaring me half to death. I guess that's because I'm not depressed.
I'm sad, and I'm scared, but I'm not depressed.
Like I said, these days come and go. I doubt I have them anymore than anyone else does.
I'm used to these fits. But they make it awfully hard to deal with reality when you've succumbed to their numbness. I know tomorrow will be completely different.
I might even be better by this afternoon, but for right now, it's hard to concentrate on anything else but this fear.
"I need something else/
would someone please just give me/
hit me, knock me out/
so I can go back to sleep/
I can laugh all I want/
inside I still am empty/
so deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me...I.../
I'll be just fine/
pretending I'm not/
I'm far from lonely/
and it's all that I've got."
All That I've Got- The Used
... they make it sound so glamorous in the movies, but its not. It's really not.
I go through these fits every so often. Some days I just wake up and I'm terrified.
I'm stressed, I'm tired and I'm frustrated.
They say that those feelings stem from either pain or fear.
I'm not in any great pain right now, physical or emotional.
I'm just afraid, that's all.
I can identify what I'm feeling. I can be aware of my emotions.
I know how to handle these feelings because I have correctly identified them.
But I don't know why they're here.
And that shoots all that other stuff straight to hell.
They say that depressed people see the world in a clearer light.
People who are depressed see truth...I think I can safely agree with that.
I'm not seeing much of anything right now, though.
There's nothing but a whole lot of "What if's?" floating around in my brain, scaring me half to death. I guess that's because I'm not depressed.
I'm sad, and I'm scared, but I'm not depressed.
Like I said, these days come and go. I doubt I have them anymore than anyone else does.
I'm used to these fits. But they make it awfully hard to deal with reality when you've succumbed to their numbness. I know tomorrow will be completely different.
I might even be better by this afternoon, but for right now, it's hard to concentrate on anything else but this fear.
"I need something else/
would someone please just give me/
hit me, knock me out/
so I can go back to sleep/
I can laugh all I want/
inside I still am empty/
so deep that it didn't even bleed and catch me...I.../
I'll be just fine/
pretending I'm not/
I'm far from lonely/
and it's all that I've got."
All That I've Got- The Used
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