your voice comes from the bees when life is hard, you have to change. 8:57 p.m. - Wednesday, Mar. 24, 2010 So what happened here? I got tired of diaryland, I guess. Either that or I sensed change in the air and put it off until now. So here yah go. After one year and almost 3 weeks, hoonlives95.diaryland.com is coming down. To make way for a brighter, better hoonlives95.com. Honestly, I couldn't be happier. I may even come back and write something here again. But for the time being, this is just gonna be for reference. The new domain name (hoonlives95.com) was powered by a friend of mine making me a very late birthday present. Therefore I'm very happy that I had to do almost no work. I don't have to delete anything! And I love every single one of you that's stuck with me since day one. Cos there's a whole new era on its way. And it's beautiful. "I don't feel the sun's comin' out today, And oh as I fade away, When you feel your life ain't worth living, And then they'll paint it. And oh as I fade away, Think about it,
i've got nothing to say 9:24 p.m. - Sunday, Mar. 21, 2010 I apologise again. I know one person who's not happy that I haven't been posting. But honestly, these past few days have been crazy and I haven't had time to get onto the computer. Crazy in a good way though. In a very good way. Just that I've been exhausted for most of it, so I can't really sit down at the computer and do stuff like Facebook or Gmail or Diaryland. And for that I'm sorry. So, another apology and an empty promise to not do it again. I'm not going to let this one die. Also, THE FUCKING DIARYLAND JUST DECIDED TO DELETE MY ENTIRE FUCKING POST AND I HATE THIS FUCKING WEBSITE. WHAT THA HELL. I'm not even... no. I'm not gonna finish this one. Ignominious fucking blog post. Think about it, it's a great big world & you don't believe in nothin' 10:49 p.m. - Wednesday, Mar. 17, 2010 Some people change, their life is rearranged, even when they're so far from home. One of the whitest Sugar Ray songs I've ever heard. On to the topic of discussion. Whassap my homies. I haven't written ANYTHING since last Thursday and for that I feel absolutely despicable. I don't want to fall back into that habit of not writing for months at a time. So I'm not going to! And honestly, I feel a lot better having filled out like half a paragraph already. So... welcome home. Our top story tonight: why I've been gone this long. That's a mix of things that I'm not at liberty to tell you dear readers. Let me say that it has been raining for quite a long time now, and even though it's stopped now, it was still raining before and I need to acknowledge that. Because for most of last week I had an umbrella, or to be more specific, a hoodie. Although the umbrella analogy works better. Then, sometime in the middle of this whole not-posting thing, it kind of shook in the wind, and I was afraid it'd turn inside out and fly out of my hands. But thankfully the wind died down a little bit. I caused the wind. It's my fault and I'm sorry for the wind. But it's not as harsh anymore, I don't think. It's a breeze. And it hasn't rained since. [[I love how that works as an analogy and how it also applies to the weather this week.]] MOVING ON! In other news; I'm gonna end up having to restring Annabelle. And I have no idea how to go about that. But my brother's gonna give me a hand, and then... it'll be alright. She just isn't holding a tuning very well. Like it'll be fine for a few chords, and then it'll fall out of tune somehow. I don't know what it is but changing the strings can't hurt. I'm thinking about taking a facebook break. I dunno why. It's just kind of a nice idea, not to have to log on every day and respond to feed questions and etc. I mean I definitely got myself into this all on my own, but... seriously. Hormones need to knock it off. Also I wanted to apologise for not posting something on the 11th. That's twice that I've done it now. I just haven't been writing at all, and that's not good. Because now I see what's really inside of me, and I can work to improve it, and to see what I did wrong before and to learn how NOT to make those mistakes again. Don't do drugs. Think about it, and the road's still long, but you come along 7:10 a.m. - Wednesday, Mar. 17, 2010 You're going to want to kill me. First off it's St Paddy's day and I'm decked out in all-green. So that's obnoxious. Secondly I haven't posted ANYTHING since last Thursday, which was like four or five sentences at best. So in reality I haven't posted something worthwhile reading since Wednesday. And I'm not going to until tonight! SUCK IT. Think about it, please don't be long, please don't you be very long 9:15 p.m. - Thursday, Mar. 11, 2010 That and "Flying" by The Beatles have been stuck in my head all day. And for good reason. That, and High Life by Counting Crows. Fantastic songs. All of 'em. I hate to say that my post tonight is going to be cut short by a combination of tiredness, distractions and two-year-olds. But it's the truth, and they're absolutely delightful. The cutest children you will ever see. Photos for facebook later. Think about it, if it was you & me and nobody else, would you want me to want to be ready to go? 9:37 p.m. - Tuesday, Mar. 09, 2010 Would you wanna take the lights down low? Good, good song. I don't think I'd give it as high of a rating as some of the others because of Max Collins' obnoxious but recognisably corny voice, or the cheap bass effects. Maybe Eve 6 should just not involve him at all. Then again they're broken up. I think? Alright. So in a normal situation I'd be profusely apologising for skipping posts like this. I think this is the longest I've gone since before my birthday. But right now I'm sitting here eating Arby's fries and soda- yes, both from Arby's, minus the delicious roast beef sammie- and it's 9:45 pm and I still have to practice cello when all I wanna do is curl up in bed and fall asleep and not wake up until tomorrow morning after 1st period and then go back to sleep until the end of the day, AND I'm positive that by the end of this week, my mother will kill me. So, you all win. Why would she do such a thing? Well, the grading policy is such that I- the self-proclaimed procrastinating extraordinaire- have an E in science, and a high D in Spanish. She gave me the ultimatum of ten days from last Thursday in which my grades must be up, or I'm grounded. THIS DOES NOT MEAN THAT I CANNOT, NOR WILL NOT, PULL MY GRADES UP. It's just stressful. And I know I put myself in the shit position of having this massive workload on my back, but still. I haven't caught up with sleep in like three weeks. In any event. She's giving me this ultimatum, which I doubt will be TOO hard. Oh well. I've lost my train of thought. My mind was elsewhere. That's redundant, I suppose. Moving on! Nah. That's a lie. I'm gonna go dry my hair and go to bed now. I finished my homework and makeup work so hop off. Think about it, maybe this year will better than the last 1:06 a.m. - Saturday, Mar. 06, 2010 Man, I hope so. I mean. Let me rephrase that. My wording of things is just kind of off at the moment. So I can't really talk. So pardon me for not making sense. Last year was interesting. But everything before recent events wasn't too much fun. So that's part of last year, in a way. I don't know. I'm just gonna stop talking now. My face hurts. I don't know why I had to say that. Or why I had to go all paranoid thirty-five-year-old woman in such a conversation. I don't... see why it's such a necessity for me to do that to everyone who brings that kind of stuff up. And then I go and shred down my standards later on. But this is gonna be different. I know that. I really do. I just really don't want to lose what I have now. So I'm not gonna worry about it, and I'm gonna turn the depressing Counting Crows song off. No. I'm gonna let it finish because that's what it deserves. I want to let it finish. It should be a proven scientific fact that the premiere C major chord in Space Oddity by David Bowie is therapeutically uplifting and heartwarming. Even if the song is depressing in itself, the music is just... god damn. You can't beat Bowie. Anyway. My face actually hurts. I'm not sure what the hell's wrong now. But I'm hoping it's just a temporary thing, or that I'm not getting some nasty skin disease. Which wouldn't be something to joke about, but still. Yeah. It's still 1 am on a Friday. I just need to go to bed and sleep all this unimportant stuff off. Cos so far I've gotten along without overthinking thinks. And it's going very well. So I'm gonna continue with it. Also. This is to the individual around here who wore a green long-sleeved T-shirt and tan shorts today, and has brown hair and drives a white Honda. You sir are an absolute, genuine ASSHOLE and I hope you, and everyone else who reads this blog, knows that. I don't hate. I strongly dislike. But this is just fucking repulsive and I don't like it when people do it. Think about it, i've come to wish aloud among the overdressed crowd, come to witness now the sinking of this ship 11:40 p.m. - Thursday, Mar. 04, 2010 An amazing, amazing song. I figure I deserve such a good song. Today was one of those test days. And I mean that in both respects; in that I was tested by the events that took place today, and that I actually had a test today. As in, a test in class. Which was part of why today was a test. I don't like the word "test" anymore. But it was one of those days when things just seem to go wrong for no good reason, especially when things were going so well. In the other world that I live in, where I don't have to worry about things like tests and people and friends and family, everything is- and will continue to be- exponentially great. And I'm happy for this. But the two worlds are starting to come together, and that's both enlightening and scary at the same time. There are definitely things I would never bring out of one world and into the other, but at the same time I'm seeing this happen with certain things that I never thought would leave. And I don't know why they are; it's a safe bet to say that I trust the occupants of wherever I'm living to not judge me for them. Metaphors. My dear, dear metaphors. But in one world everything decides to throw itself at me. The shitty feeling I have in the pit of my stomach, and my godawful headache, is probably emphasized by the comparison of just how amazing one world is to the overall disparity of the other one. And then when things start turning for the worse, I can only go back to the other world and hope that things will resolve themselves. Again. Metaphors. Everything's alright now, though. It's like a really weird orchestral piece that's in a saddening, depressing minor for the whole piece, and then has this beautiful resolve out of nowhere. Like the C# coming out in an A chord, when for the entire piece it's been C natural. It's like "what is this?" Not to say that I'm complaining. I'm happy for the C#, believe me. I just didn't expect it to come in the form that it did. But I'm happy that it did. Tomorrow will be a good day. Even though for the most part I'm going to be trudging through it half-asleep, and I'll get home and just collapse on my bed. And I won't resurface til Saturday morning, and I'll have the weirdest dreams when I'm in such a deep sleep, and it'll be delightful. Today's a challenge to overcome, but there are definitely good things waiting at the finish line. Think about it, some people fall in love and touch the stars 9:30 p.m. - Wednesday, Mar. 03, 2010 Some people fall in love and find Quicksand. I love that song. Kind of a lot. Not exactly fitting for tonight, but it sure is pretty. I don't like being torn between two sides of an argument. Let's get right out there and say that straight up with that one. Okay? I love you both. So don't make me pick sides, because it's probably gonna piss one of you off and I don't do that. I'm indecisive, as you can see. I don't know why, but these past two days have been really depressing for some reason. They're just really down and gross and sad for some reason, and I don't know what it is. I'm gonna go ahead and blame it on the nasty weather, and stop complaining about how fucking fantastically my life is going right now. Because comparatively, my life is just too cool for words. Honestly. I couldn't ask for anything more right now. (Except, y'know. The image of Roger Ebert to be erased from my mind.) I'm sorry. I know he's having a hard time, and that's not funny. But I just don't enjoy looking at chinless people. Mmkay? Mmkay. God damn it, it's 9:30 and I still haven't touched my math homework. How did this happen?? I really hate high school sometimes. But more than that I hate how things distract me so easily. Think about it, nothin's ever gonna come between my dumptruck and me 10:29 p.m. - Monday, Mar. 01, 2010 HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY!!!!!! Yes, all you diligent little Hoon-heads that have been following me since March of last year [of which there are like two], it's been a full year since my first post here. You probably can't go back and see it [I really hate the staff that seem to ignore my emails because I'm not a Supergold customer], but the first entry started out with an introverted Q & A section. Which is a decent way to start things off. OUR TOP STORY TONIGHT: new colours because it is, in fact, the first of March. I was going to revert to the original colours, which were navy blue and white [with the sidebar clicky buttons working and everything], but it looked atrocious and I'm a pussy. So, Indiana blue 'n white with Shannon Hoon yellow. For the bees. I'm a dork. Continuing on. In other news. I'm considering switching hosts again, and this is a serious thing for me to think about. I don't want to take a blogspot because they design everything for you, and I don't want a xanga because their emails are obnoxious, and I don't want a wordpress because they're just too Tumblr-y. However, Tumblr is a concept I'd like to look into; thing is I have no idea what I'd name it. Because I already have a hoonlives95. What else do you do with that? hoonlives96? I think not. In the world where I'm not completely lost in html boxes and the comforting keyboard noises my computer makes, things are going exponentially well. I'm actually really happy now, considering where I used to be [if any of you need a reference point, try Friday January 15th], and it can only get better from here. Oh wait. You CAN'T look at January 15th because they won't let you. Argh. Well. I think the only way for me to be able to write for another year is for me to get off the computer and go live life. Which, right now, means curling up in a certain white hoodie and falling asleep to Iron & Wine. Yeah. Happy Anniversary, everybody. Here's to hoonlives95.diaryland.com. Enjoi. Don't ever stop thinking about it, just one toss of that fateful cigarette 11:29 p.m. - Sunday, Feb. 28, 2010 What a fantastic song. It's not exactly fitting for the tone of this post. Which will probably end up being all tight-wound and crazy-like again. I apologise in advance. I'm being pulled away from the computer, because it is, in fact, Sunday night, and my parents are, in fact, reasonable human beings. On with it. I hate Bethesda. Have I ever told you that? I just despise being there. It's like the people can see through my wallet, and see that I'm not a typical skinny, Caucasian, Abercrombie-toting stick figure like the rest of em. I have thoughts and emotions and opinions, and I can express them easily and often times, without thinking. So walking into Barnes & Noble surrounded by the cream-white jackholes giving me funny looks cos I don't have a huge deer sewn across my shirt kind of makes me angry. A little bit. And I wish I weren't on facebook right now. I wish I had my music on and was completely unattached to everything else, and that when I got back from here, from my little hole of narcissism, that everything would somehow resolve itself. Cos that's the way it's always been, and that's the way I like it. That's how I want it to be. ...that was a Paul Simon quote... I need more sleep. I think I'm gonna go fix that. Right now. But I think everyone should find their little narcissism hole, and just get lost in it. Because often times, that's all you have. Think about it, i didn't know, i didn't know it was nothing new 11:00 p.m. - Saturday, Feb. 27, 2010 Diaryland is actually starting to remember my username and password for Safari. Or vicey versey. I don't know. You crazy kids and your technology. I really don't want my stuff getting rooted through, and you all know how that feels. Righto. Today happened to be a very good day. And tomorrow's gonna be a good day too. Monday's going to suck, at least comparatively. But then Tuesday and Wednesday are gonna make up for it all. No, I'm not going to go into detail. But it involves... big hands. Hahaha. I don't know why people are so surprised. It's like, I happen to have the capacity for this kind of stuff. But mean people get in my way sometimes, and it's hard to be a sweet gentile person when people are being like that. So some people don't always see what's really inside. And that shit actually matters, man. Like, legit. Anywhoop. What did I have to say? Oh right. I was in a Dunkin Donuts, and I got an awesome deal for 6 doughnuts, and then there was a cop in front of me buying doughnuts and it was really funny, and then Don't Stop Believin' was playing. And for some reason I really, really loved America. It was just one of those really cool moments. And then, y'know. Driving down the highway listening to The Raveonettes, eating doughnuts. Can't beat that with a stick. I've actually been thinking a lot about that phrase. "Can't beat that with a stick." I'm just wondering: why would you WANT to? Unless it's a double meaning, like "beating" as in succeeding over another being interpreted with "beating" as in with implements, aiming for destruction. Yes. This is legitimately what I think about on a day-to-day basis. I know. I'm a dork. But I'm a cool dork. Anywho. That's about all I have to say for one night. Just remember that anytime you know that you're not having a good time, or you weren't having a good time before, or you won't be having a good time in the near future, that there's gonna be something out there to make you happy, in one way or another. You've just got to find it, and recognise it for what it is. Think about it, P.S. New Tumblr post! look who's here, to save my soul, sweet night, she's on a roll 11:27 p.m. - Friday, Feb. 26, 2010 One of the better Fridays in a long time. I mean I usually have fine Fridays. There's nothing wrong with them. Sometimes, though, they can be disappointing. But today was nothing but euphoric, and fantastic, and optimistic. And another -ic word I don't even know. Oh boy. So. Sometime ago I told all my diligent readers, with your yellow lined note pads and your Ticonderoga pencils [I'm a weirdo] that you'd be able to tell when I found a "someone else." ...I think you could already tell, no? Oh how I love redundancy. The snow ended up coming today, which was fine. It didn't stick at all, it just kind of floated in. In little tiny flurries, and stuck to my hair. And the sky had patches of blue, and the sun shone through in some spots, as the snow just kept coming down. I saw Valentine's Day today. It wasn't a bad film, actually. I mean, it's a Garry Marshall movie, and he and his sister are two of my favourite directors. It's this decade's Love Actually. Not to say that Love Actually is obsolete or old in any way, but that the new generation [Good God, that's US] would be able to relate to, and understand more. You can't make Blackberry jokes in 2001. I mean you could, but people would think you were talking about the fruit. And I'm sorry, but that's still goddamn scary. In other news, Annabelle is doing very well. I've officially fallen in love, I have to say. She's just fantastic in every way that all the other guitars I've played haven't been. Only problem is the G string likes to come loose a little too often for my taste. But, it's all good. I just need to be gentle. And I'm realising now that I just filled out a whole paragraph about my relationship with the sexiest guitar to grace my living room. Ever. Alright, well I've said what I need to. Now I'm going to go get what I really need, and what I haven't gotten for a couple of weeks now- legitimate SLEEP. I told you February would be great. Think about it, hallelujah, hallelujah, joyfully we lark about 6:58 a.m. - Friday, Feb. 26, 2010 It's actually an Eddie Izzard song. But again. It's on my iPod, so it counts as music. I have t-minus two minutes to write a slightly decent blog post about the crazy dream I had last night. But the thing is, I can't remember all of it. Only specific parts. I remember that we were talking to one of our family friends, who looked a shit ton like James Earl Jones and was named Atticus. And then we were taking ANOTHER road trip, with my brother this time, after which I had to go to school. And school was a combination of my middle school, my high school, and a Comfort Inn. It was just plain weird. Oh, and then my friend kept sending me txt messages, and it kept filling up my inbox so I couldn't receive any more. And then I stayed up so late that my mom got mad [in the dream] and I thought that she would come in the bathroom & kill me for being awake so late. And then I WOKE UP at like five o'clock in the morning. What the fuck, subconscious. Think about it, call my name through the grain, and i hear you scream again 10:48 p.m. - Thursday, Feb. 25, 2010 Not the best of songs lyrically, but the tune has been stuck in my head all god damn day and I'm associating it with certain memories that I'm not about to disclose to my public, public Diaryland. But it's still a semi-decent song, and I like it. So you all can take a flying fuck at the moon. Today was a fabulous day. It was a Hoon revival day. I think it was because I actually decided to re-draw the little tattoo I have on my ankle for the first time in a week. So naturally, Shannon Hoon was up there doing good things. Although, and this is delusional but bear with me, I think my great-aunt was in on it with him, too. Because instead of believing that God or Jesus or someone that I haven't directly heard from, or witnessed their presence, is up there making all my fantastic days even better, I'd like to think it's the work of people that actually knew me and love me for who I am. Like my great-aunt. It was supposed to snow another five inches or more today. I was very happy when I woke up to find NO snow in the air, or new snow on the ground. Instead, I saw Hoon clouds. I got to sleep in a little bit, and got to eat breakfast (on a weekday) for once, because I had a "dentist appointment." This means that my mom's alarm clock didn't go off, and I was too lazy to get up when mine went off. So instead of rushing for a redundancy, which would've been stupid, in my opinion, my mom went "Take your time," and I got to do things in the morning. Like eat breakfast, and redo my ankle thing. And then I did virtually no work all day, because I came late to first block where we watched part of Romeo & Juliet, and second block was orchestra, and then in science all we did was scrape rocks. Then at lunch people were taking photos of me, and videos of the weird noises I can make. I'm like that guy in the Geico commercial, only female and skinny and slightly attractive. ANYwho. And here is where the day went from good to great: Instead of spending an hour in a cello lesson, I instead went with my mom to the music store my brother works at, and was given the best motherfucking birthday present in the whole god damn world, after which I got to eat Jerry's. Yeah. She's a 1970's Epiphone Les Paul. Plays like a god damn dream. She has a neck like an acoustic and is a little chunkier than what I'm used to. But she's still gorgeous. I named her Annabelle. It came from a Logo film about a Catholic schoolteacher who falls for her rebellious smoking lesbian of a new student, Annabelle. Oh how I love Logo films. So I came home at around four or five, and didn't stop playing until my dad got home at like eight thirty. It was really cool, to just be able to let yourself out through something like that. I busted my bass callous open fingerpicking. And then I lay back on the persian carpet in my living room and played Drops of Jupiter, singing it at the top of my lungs. I needed that, I think. That's my amazing day. So if you don't believe that he's up there after all this, then you should go through it again and read it. Don't LOOK at it. READ it. Think about it, you know it's time that we grow old & do some shit; i like it all that way 10:12 p.m. - Wednesday, Feb. 24, 2010 Oh what a fabulous song that is. Why is it so sad though? It's such a lyrically optimistic song. If you read it out loud without singing it, it's just a fantastically romantic poem. Kind of. I'm pretty sure it's about some sort of fellatio or another. But at the same time, that one line-- see short description-- is just epic and euphoric all in itself. "... now ..." Needless to say I'm listening to the radio version of it. Which is a good two minutes longer than the original 6. But it's still a fucking amazing song. Haha. Oh boy. That's about the longest that I've ever gone on about one song. Wow. Uhm, I hope you all benefited from my Broken Social Scene rant. They're among a select few artists that you can't listen to everyday; they're just so musically rich and deep. It would lose its meaning if it turned into a daily thing. Like how some songs seem to just fade out and seem old & boring after a certain period of time. These artists are just too good for that to happen; you have to draw it out over a long time in order to fully appreciate it. Hell, I only listen to Lemonade once every few months, if that. Because again, it's just too dense. You can't eat an entire dark chocolate cake in one minute (unless you're just wasteful), you have to have little slices every now and again. And then when the cake is gone, you don't feel all gross and overfed. You feel satisfied. And then you bake a new cake. ...and now I'm hungry again. I think this is one of the more interesting rants I've gone on in a long while. Has this replaced the entire post? I believe it has. I didn't have anything truly interesting to say, come to think of it. Other than the fact that I'm actually early tonight; it's not 11 PM yet. Haha. And now my iPod's playing Italian Leather Sofa. God I love this thing. This post doesn't really make sense. I think I was waiting to fall in love in the key of C, like that Wilco song. Then I discovered that all I really needed was two doors down in B flat. I don't know. But it really is time that we grow old & do some shit. Think about it, with you or without you, sweetheart, the hellhound's here 10:22 p.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 23, 2010 Today was the first time I can remember something happening six hours ago, and my smile not going away. I don't know what it was about today. All of it was fantastic- some parts exponentially more than others- in its own way. I mean, you can't beat surprise latkes for dinner. Fucking amazing. But today still had its downsides, as every day does, and every day will. We had to watch a Holocaust video in history today. And even my history teacher cracking jokes about her ethnicity- "Don't hate cos we procreate!!"- didn't really bring us back into normalcy. Not for me, anyway. The Holocaust was just such a sickening concept, and the fact that the people in charge of a NATION followed through with it is terrifying. And the fact that people still hate with that ferocity today is even scarier. And there's my downer of the post. I hope you enjoyed it for what it was worth. In other news; I've almost completely fallen in love with The Raveonettes. They're the only band I know- besides Blind Melon or Incubus- that can make me think of fields, the beach, AND home, all at the same time in their own aspects. The guitars sound like Rickenbackers, and for that I respect them greatly. For those of you who didn't know, one day I'm gonna own a Rickenbacker 12. Just so I can say that I own one. And I'm gonna play it every god damn day that my fingers function. Ahem. The Raveonettes, right. They're just a completely all-around decent band. The synth is over the top in a way that makes it swell and explode in your ears, but not poppy or cheap or glitter-soaked like some of the other stuff out there today. I see the sixties and seventies, and some of 2010 as well. They're Swedish, I think? Alright. Enough indie dogshit for one day. I hope everyone's had a fantastic Tuesday. Because now it's gone with the wind. [SKYNYRD!] But Wednesday is very soon, and after that Thursday. And, even if it doesn't seem possible sometimes, Friday still lingers in the future. God, I am so fucking cised. Think about it, we live in a wheel where everyone steals, and when we rise, it's like strawberry fields 10:45 p.m. - Sunday, Feb. 21, 2010 This song is fantastic. Hopefully that makes up for the fact that I didn't post for three straight days. All you little Hoon-heads [stealing a page from Mitchell Davis' book] seemed to have survived without them though. Not much happened, except of course I turned fifteen. Officially, it happened at around 4 p.m. on Friday. At that time I was listening to my iPod on the way down to Richmond, looking back at the cars behind us and flipping through this giant style magazine my mom got me. It's actually rather enjoyable. And then I got a cheese-filled soft pretzel and watched the sun set, listening to Queen and taking phone photos. Twitpic that bitch. And then for my birthday I got a bunch o' swag, including three CD's from my brother. "amorica. by The Black Crowes, Mobile Estates by Citizen King, and a Smashing Pumpkins album. And then my sister bought me a very eighties-chic Red Sox hat [oh yes, that's a possible adjective, and it applies] and we had a huge breakfast at Joe's Inn. I love it down there, I really do. And then today was a really nice day in some ways, and in others it blew. But I think that's the balance I'm looking for- days with moments where you nearly cry tears of joy, and moments where you nearly cry tears of sadness. Oh yes. It happens. So here's to being fifteen- so far, it's pretty fantastic. And the rest of it's gonna be just as great, I can tell. Oh, side-note. I might just update random shit to the Tumblr, regardless of the time of the month. Cos I have some slightly decent stuff I'm sitting on, and I don't really want to wait too long to post it, cos then it gets stale and I don't like it as much. And after awhile, I'm gonna wonder why I wanted to post it. Therefore, irregular Tumblr posts. Nothing in the immediate future, though, I need to finish up a LOT of stuff for school. Oh well. Enjoy. Think about it, how's it going to be when you don't know me anymore? 9:53 p.m. - Thursday, Feb. 18, 2010 I really do wonder this sometimes. It brings certain things to my attention. Particularly because the person that comes to mind right now probably won't be affected by it at all. But I will. I don't think I'll forget anytime soon. Enh, You Get What You Give. Tomorrow- well, no. In just about two hours, it's gonna be my birthday. I'll be fifteen in a matter of hours. Now it's at the intimidating stage. What's gonna happen next year? How am I gonna change? Who's gonna change around me? And is this change good or bad? Or are we all just gonna turn into kangaroos and hop off? Haha. I thought that was pretty good. I do, however, think that things are going to change for the better. I'm really excited to see what fifteen has in store for me. But at the same time, it's not gonna be the same year as last year. And last year was pretty cool. Even if half of it was spent worrying about stuff that didn't matter, and the other half was not worrying enough about things that do, I had a great time being fourteen. Another thing. Why do we prejudice people on their age? I mean, it's not like I can fix being fourteen. [Fifteen, soon. God, that's gonna be a pain in the ass.] So why are you gonna get on my case for it? I mean, I don't really like being stuck down here in the disregarded age bracket ["Eh, fourteen, fifteen, they're the same really"], but I'm not Marty McFly. I don't have a time-traveling DeLorean. Maybe someday, but not today. For now, I'm here, and that's that. I can't really change that yet. But in a few hours I'm not going to be quite as small and therefore disregarded in the way of opinions and things to say. ...maybe. So tomorrow I'm getting a piggyback ride through the main hallway of my school. Courtesy of my very good friend who shall still remain nameless. I'm going to be taking a video of it, and photos. I think it's an occasion to remember, even if this year turns out to be completely uneventful. I like taking pictures of things. Plus my camera is a beautiful machine. So it'll all be good. Oh. I mean to apologise for not posting last night. I really did mean to, I promise. It's not gonna happen again. Really. Haha. The empty promises to an empty, invisible wall in front of me. Sigh. Tomorrow should be interesting, to say the least. On, lusty gentleman. Think about it, icing on a cake, or a serene translucent lake 10:55 p.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 16, 2010 That part of the song always seemed so antsy and touchy and tightly drawn to me. And that's how I feel right now, so that's the lyric I'm gonna use. Cool? Cool. Alright. As you can probably tell, the walls seem to have eyes tonight. Today was a good day, for reasons I cannot divulge onto my Dear Diaryland. [HA! Play on words.] But soon enough, everything will clear up and become wide and open. Like where? Indiana. Also I FINALLY came into the possession of my first Indiana quarter today. Because the quarters made after the year 2000 all have state names & decorations on the back of them, and for the longest time I had been looking for one that had Indiana on it. So my friend found one today, and gave it to me. I love her. I went to the orthodontist today. Not too much fun. There was a girl in the chair next to me- a skinny white girl, not that different from yours truly, if you're wondering- and she kept going "Ow, ow, ow," audibly. And being rather obnoxious, if I do say so, to someone who was at the time getting THEIR teeth scraped as well. So she went on to say "You know I've had braces for a whole YEAR now..." And I realised just how conceited Americans are. Because we have enough money to not only put expensive, finely crafted metal shit on our kids' teeth, WE HAVE THE MONEY TO DO SO WHEN THEY'RE IN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. In other countries, if a kid gets their tooth knocked out, then the kid gets their tooth knocked out. That's about as far as it goes. And, that kind of surprised me. Then again this is coming from a 4 year survivor. So, you tell me. T-minus four days. Think about it, beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some trouble with herself 9:45 p.m. - Monday, Feb. 15, 2010 I fucking love this song. Excuse me, but it's just amazing. If you don't know what it is, I think you're living under a hole. That's just my personal opinion. Ahem. So last Friday I meant to give a personal shout out to someone. And seeing as I never really got around to it, I figure I'll take care of it tonight. I wanted to mention just how lucky I am to have such a fantastic cello teacher. Now this is kind of out of my element to say, but I'm actually beginning to understand a lot of what he's saying, and apply it to my playing. It already sounds a shit ton better than it did in September. Not to say that my orchestra teacher hasn't been helpful; he definitely has. But there's more of an individual focus in my private lessons, and I hadn't really gotten that before. So this is a giant thank you to my cello teacher. You've helped me come a long way already, and there's still so much more. See? I can be sincere. I just have to choose sincerity. My parents took me out to lunch today; after driving through the traffic nightmare that was our city's downtown, we got to my favourite restaurant. Parkway Deli. It's a fantastic restaurant. I had my first cheese blintz. Completely euphoric. For those of you who haven't happened upon this amazing dish, it's basically Ricotta or cream cheese inside in a crepe, or a really thin pancake, wrapped up like a little burrito of joy. I love these things. The first words out of my mouth (besides "oh my God") were "You need to teach me how to make these." Mmm, cheese blintzes. So there goes my food rant of the day. Maybe one day I'll just keel over after eating too much, and that'll be the end of me. Meh. Not a bad way to go out. The rest of February is looking better and better by the day. Think about it, everyone was wearing fingerless gloves 10:49 p.m. - Sunday, Feb. 14, 2010 The title song is actually a pretty decent song in itself. Seeing as I'm already obsessed with him, it can't really hurt to emphasize it on Valentine's Day. ...oh, Valentine's Day. I didn't think that it'd be as big of a deal for me. I honestly thought I could get through it without feeling any sense of remorse or regret. And then 7 pm rolled around, and I started feeling less like the boxer and more like the bag. Valentine's Day is just one of those occasions where you can only feel truly happy when you're in a situation that you're actually content with. Even if you don't have anyone to spend V'day with; the fact is that you're able to cope with all the other people being happy around you. And when you aren't happy in your situation, it's not fun. You just feel kind of debilitated and bummed out, because it seems like everyone else is happy but you. But then, if you can realise what it is you need to do, then you take that initiative to get off your ass and do it, instead of wallowing in self-pity and not making anything of it. You just learn to pick yourself back up again, over time, and brush the dirt off your pants, and go "Let's move on." Cos there's not enough time to waste being unhappy. There's a pretty well-written, if anything, song out there. I thought about it today; the music might not be much, but the words are really strong. Today, at least. If you want to take a listen, go buy her CD, because there isn't a decent version on YouTube. But I just figured I'd post the lyrics so you can get a better sense of what the song's about. It's actually a really pretty song. So... enjoy? "We switched to Jay Leno And Bruno said what Anders said some producers said to young Lennon, 'They can't all be ballads, Julian.' Open up your eyes & see the beauty over there, And Bruno said what Anders said some producers said to young Lennon, 'They can't all be ballads, Julian' 'Get out there and be seen, Doesn't matter what you look like, And Bruno said what Anders said some producers said to young Lennon, 'They can't all be ballads, Julian.'" Here's to V'day, 2010. Hopefully the rest of the month will be different. Think about it, they can't tell me who to be, cos i'm not what they see 10:39 p.m. - Saturday, Feb. 13, 2010 God damn it Safari. Why do you hate me? I just made a good half-a-page entry, and then you decided to find a bug in YouTube. And you're "sorry for the inconvenience." Eh. I forgive you. It's better than Firefox, anyway. ...such is my introverted conversation with an internet browser... Ahem. Today was alright. I managed to elude posting yesterday for some reason. The computer was taken away before I could actually sit down and write something, so my apologies. I wonder why I'm so keen on skipping Fridays? Today is technically a Friday though, because we have Monday off from school. Everyone's calling it our second winter break, because we got a whole week off due to the "weather." Haha. I mean I love snow, I really do. I love watching it snow. I just don't like it when you're wearing your favourite sneakers that happen to have holes in them, and you end up freezing your toes off because you have to trek through the ice and shit that's on the ground now. And I really don't like the one-lane streets going around now, only because there really ARE other lanes hidden beneath the snow. But when you're driving with someone who already has a slight impatience for other drivers, and there's four feet of snow on the ground, it's not exactly fun being in the passenger's seat. I digress. Maybe I should go back and rewrite everything that was erased when Safari quit. Or maybe I already know what I was saying, and I don't really need to tell anyone else. Hm. Yeah. Sounds good. Valentine's Day is impending, and here it goes: Happy, exciting, amazing, euphoric wishes to everyone who's happily connected to someone else- boyfriends, girlfriends, fiancees, wives, husbands, friends-with-benefits, pet rabbits, what have you's- on Valentine's Day. And please. If you're not happy where you are, take it as a warning signal to change that fact yourself instead of waiting for someone else to. Mmkay? Mmkay. T-minus 6 days until I turn fifteen, by the way. :) But what I do know is that February's gonna be a pretty good month, from what I can see. Think about it, stick THAT in your fusebox. 7:55 p.m. - Thursday, Feb. 11, 2010 I... I think I've fallen in love with ACDC. After only 4 tracks off of High Voltage. This may be the greatest band since Blind Melon. I don't use that lightly at all. I may cry. On the completely flip side, it is my personal opinion- coming from a regular appreciator of the band- that Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Freebird" is fourteen minutes too long. There's a great Facebook note floating around called "17 Reasons Why Gay Marriage is 'Wrong.'" It's hysterical. I love it to death. I'm considering posting it here sometime. Oh. Also. Recent events have brought certain things to my attention, events involving the readers of my blog. Or whatever you want to call this miniature piece of me. For whoever reads this, or doesn't read this, please know that I'm not putting anything up here but the honest truth, and the honest & true me. I'm not changing anytime soon; I'm also not leaving anytime soon. I already have limited space on this page, why would I fill it with dishonesty? Also this shouldn't be read all at once. It's a blog, not a novel. Having said that, you shouldn't judge off of just one post. If I'm having a particularly Poe day, I certainly don't want you to think that I'm like that all the time. If you just look at the contrast in moods between one post and the next, and the one before that, you can see that I'm not always going to be the same person behind the screen. So, beware. Try it in small doses. "Short Bursts." Anything's alright, in moderation. Think about it, [P.S. It's the eleventh. You can go straight to the Tumblr.] maybe we'll be friends; i guess we'll see 6:11 p.m. - Wednesday, Feb. 10, 2010 Now I'm the slightest bit pissed off, because the video that a friend of mine just finished making cut off the absolute best part of the song. EVER. That's my second favourite Third Eye Blind song; you can't fuck it up. "I remember the stupid things, the mood rings, the bracelets and the beads, There. More later. And now, it's much later. 12:35 the morning after. And the problem has kind of been solved? I don't know. I think everything will eventually work out how it's supposed to. In other news, night sledding proves to be a fantastic way to get an adrenaline rush. I always liked the idea of snowsports. We just never went to like, ski resorts, or snowboarding, or those fake-snow-mountain places with the fam. I suppose it's something for me to get out there and do on my own. Maybe? I don't know. But that's fun, and so is making midnight snow angels for Shannon Hoon. (For those of you wondering how to accomplish this: walk straight towards the centre of a field. Then, when you're about halfway there, turn around and start moonwalking in 3 feet of snow. When you fall back on your ass, that's where the snow angel's gonna be. And then you just lie back and look up at the stars, and just breathe. Then, when you think you're done, you stand up and walk back in the same steps you took before.) I'm just a loser, excuse me. But that's fun. And that girl really is like a sunburn I would like to save. Think about it, i... wanna publish zines, and rage against machines 11:31 p.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 09, 2010 There are just too many people in the world who don't know what that song is. "Flagpole Sitta" by Harvey Danger. There you go. It's one of those that you can't listen to more than once in a day without it getting redundant and the slightest bit obnoxious. But still a good song every now and again. That was possibly the most repulsive burp I've ever committed. I'm at my friend's house at the moment. Not Bean, a different friend. This is the second post I've done at her house. What to say. It's snowing again. Well, not at the moment, but it will definitely be snowing soon. We're supposed to get another 10-20 inches tonight and tomorrow. So, we're out of school until next Tuesday. I have to say, I'm pretty happy about all of this snow. But they picked the wrong week for the school closures. My birthday is NEXT Friday, Al Roker. Why he controls the weather now, I have no idea. I saw From Paris With Love yesterday. I've concluded that John Travolta is the new Mr. T. ALSO, they're making a movie about the A-Team. Or, they already have, and it will be in theatres soon. I'm excited. Anyway. We're off to listen to Ke$ha and then wake up like P. Diddy. Which, I'm sorry, but can only be accomplished with my amazing yellow Russian fur hat. Which I hope to get replaced soon. And after all this, everyone should remember: life ain't so shitty. Think about it, slept like a bucket of snow 12:52 a.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 09, 2010 It's been a long time since I've last heard that song. I should fix that. Why did I say snow? Oh. Because we're apparently trapped in the midst of the Snowpocalypse. Or, as I like to refer to it, Snowmageddon. There are about two feet on the ground at the moment here, and there's going to be ANOTHER massive storm tomorrow. We're supposed to get anywhere from 10-20 inches. AGAIN. Now if we end up getting snowed in until my birthday, which is next Friday, ahem ahem ahem, homies everywhere, I like meat and potatoes and money, I'm not going to complain at all. Because nothing is better than waking up in the morning feeling like P. Diddy on your birthday, and you can't really do that when your alarm is going off at 6:30 so you can drag yourself to another day of freshman year. Why I'm thinking "it's good to be a square" would be a good transitional phrase to use after such a paragraph eludes me. It's good to be a square. I'm in my basement now, it's 1 in the morning. Everything is so quiet and dark. I can't see anything past the computer screen, because the snow knocked out our power Friday night. We called Pepco, who said that they should be restoring power at 4 am. On Saturday. Well it's 1 am on Tuesday, and we still don't have power. Cockblockers. And I know, I shouldn't say that. There are like 16,000 Pepco customers in MoCo alone without power. So, one house isn't that big of a difference. But seriously. When I have to use a sleeping bag in my own house, and there are people sitting mere miles away in Washington DC in their brownstones with heat and hot cocoa and anti-gay agendas, I get a little pissed off. Not that... no. That just didn't make sense. Pardon me. Well at least now my basement looks like a spy movie. Think about it, people look at you funny; when you're in a small town 11:04 a.m. - Monday, Feb. 08, 2010 Lou Reed seems fitting for this morning, I have to say. I don't know why, but Bean's house constantly makes me think that it's Sunday morning. Even though my iPod alarm clock went off at 6:30 anyway. I don't know if it's the sun shining through her windows, or the sound of the WTOP news, or the thought of tasty breakfast soon to come. But it feels like a "morning after" type house. Maybe it's just me. An interesting comment was made on my blog last night by the host of said house. "So... your blog is just basically a rant, right?" I couldn't take offense because I was sleeping on her floor that night. But at the same time I don't know if I'd have the ability to. I mean looking through it, it really IS a rant. But it's interesting, sometimes at least. I don't know. I just like opening up into this little time-hole of a blog. And you all apparently like to read it, or you wouldn't have read this far already. HA! I'm noticing that Tak Pak is a very morning-after town. And by the standards of a good friend of mine, I'm an over-texter. Oh well. Also, elephant hats are fucking adorable. I don't really know why I'm commenting on Bean's actions now. You see I'm still at her house. On her computer. Hanging out. Also I wanted to apologise- wow this is late- for doing that thing where I don't post for a long time. Or, a long time in my mind. What happened was, I wasn't in a good mood on Thursday, and I nearly deleted all my old blog posts. This was because the jackass who's supposed to be doing webmail support has either ignored or not received my two emails- one which was sent on Thursday, another which was sent the same day that I did those three letters- concerning the post-cutting-off-thing. Which still pisses me off, which was why I was going to delete my old posts. I was two seconds away from getting a Xanga- there was actually an entry describing me going through all these free blog hosting sites- when I just decided to go through all my old entries, delete ones I didn't think were too near 'n dear, and archive EVERYTHING in this massive word document on my computer. (It's gonna be a bitch to email.) I also dicked around on the older.html page- you can see this by adding that onto the backslash after my regular link- hoonlives95.diaryland.com/- but that didn't do anything, either. So I'm seriously contemplating cutting off at the 100th entry, or on March 1st- the 1 year anniversary of hoonlives95- and getting a different blog. Because this is just getting ludicrous and not fun. Anyway. I gotta run now. But I promise, with a bunch of aeons and things floating around in me, that I'll definitely post something worthwhile tonight. This was worthwhile though. Or was it? Think about it, lights, camera, transaction 10:56 p.m. - Sunday, Feb. 07, 2010 The. Motherfucking. Saints. Won. The. Motherfucking. Superbowl. I'm. About. To. Blow. A. Motherfucking. Capillary. Except that's not funny, so I wouldn't say that. But I'm still kind of pissed off. Can you tell? I mean Indiana never wins at anything. I bet Letterman is pissed off. Oh, and has anyone noticed how much the commercials this yer BLEW?! I mean I kind of lost faith in the Budweiser ads after they made the Bud' pony into Rocky. And that was like three years ago. But seriously. Couldn't they have a couple decent commercials if the Colts were going to be slaughtered mercilessly? My friend is leaning on my shoulder. We're in the process of listening to Kimya Dawson, drawing platypi and planets, and calling our friends hilariously offensive names. These include but are not limited to: "analface," "scrotum-boy," "rectal-man," "crackle-dick," and the all-time classic "clitterdick." We don't quite know what any of those are- except for the blatantly obvious ones- except for crackle-dick, which we made up in a hysterically frantic fit. It's only teenage wasteland. I'll post something moderately worthwhile tomorrow. Not that this isn't moderately worthwhile. Partial credit goes to Bean, for discovering "crackle-dick," and whose thought pattern should be studied, if not bronzed & exhibited for the world to see. I love you Bean. Think about it, could i have been the one to pull you from the point of no returning? 8:57 p.m. - Tuesday, Feb. 02, 2010 It's not exactly normalcy for me to include a hard-hitting slice of my life in my blog, but there's a first time for everything. And maybe this time I won't stray off topic into a complete pit of narcissism. So here we go. On the night of Monday, February 1st, 2010, a senior at our high school committed suicide. Neither announcements they made at school nor the articles released about him displayed any reasons for it. Every one of my friends who knew him was at least affected, if not upset, over this. What I find sad is that I never got the chance to know him, and I'm not going to get to. This has happened before- in place of losing people that are close to me, I've lost people that I don't know, who I wish I could've- and it hurts every time. It's at times like this when people either turn to places that they find comfortable- their friends, family, loved ones, or forms of expressing themselves. Some people shut themselves out, or pretend that they don't hurt from it. A lot of them are thinking that if they hurt alone, they'll get over it faster. But they don't always understand that other people are hurting too, and the most effective way to overcome something like that is love and togetherness. That can be in someone's arms, that can be looking at a chat window where someone types "I love you," or in a voicemail message, or a text, or a flying banner over the Atlantic ocean. It's clinically proven to save lives. So can everyone just do me a solid and- taking a page from my teacher's book- keep the love flowin'? Because there's so much that can be avoided, solved, and said with those three little words. I Love You. am not just doing publicity for a friend: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CfrW4h3zyVE I love you. Think about it, pull me out alive. 9:55 p.m. - Monday, Feb. 01, 2010 OH MY GOD IT'S ALREADY FEBRUARY. New colours are up. Why are they these colours you might ask? I'm coming back in black for the background, and if the short description weren't already "pull me out alive," it'd be "back in black." The pink is for my mom, because February's my birthday month and I wouldn't be here without her. So, thanks. She picked it out herself. The weird blue-purple is because I was scrolling through the december codes (html colour codes, i.e. #FF0000) and I was in the purple section. And there was a shade called "nikko blue." As some of you know, Shannon Hoon's daughter is named Nico Blue Hoon. So it's the Blind Melon tribute of the month. (I know that Nico and Nikko aren't the same but bear with me.) We have a few new readers this week. Or this month, whichever is more appropriate. And for all you followers out there, new and old alike, let me just say: That groundhog better see the snow in the ground and go "Oh, winter's not over." Else it's not gonna be pretty. I mean I love groundhog day, because then I get to start counting down to my birthday (also know as my yearly spiral into dark, narcissistic paradise). But I don't know, I'm actually kind of put off about turning 15 for some reason. I mean I like being 14. But it's really not all that different from 15. The years between 13 and 16 are always kind of indifferent; if you don't do anything important in those years then you kind of forget about them. Then again, if you do too many things in those years, you don't remember them at all, I suppose. So maybe I've- for once!- found a happy medium. I like happy mediums. They're happy in the middle. If anyone reads this tonight, preferably right after I finish posting this, then please go see the moon. It's impeccable and fantastic and wonderful. All at once. Can you believe it? Here's to a different February. Think about it, ((P.S. The Tumblr layout is probably gonna stay the same for awhile.)) take off your coat, put a song in your throat, let the dead beats pound all around 11:30 p.m. - Saturday, Jan. 30, 2010 Another good song. Very quiet though. Except the very end, which I hate with a fiery passion. Because the first part of the song is nice and slow and quiet, and I usually try and fall asleep when I hear it. And then there's a period of silence for like two or three minutes. And THEN, Beck had to go and put his mind-screwing electronic shit in it for another 3 minutes, and if you're right on the verge of sleep when that hits your eardrums, you have a miniature heart attack and wake up again. I guess it's karma for the sign of sloth in the heart? ...I got that from a Harvest Moon game... I meant to post this morning, because it snowed a great deal again today. And I always post in the morning when it snows. But, another tradition is broken it seems. Not that I broke a different one today. Or recently for that matter. But still. I don't know why it feels so important to keep personal traditions going. Like watching Empire Records on Christmas, or saying "cheesewhack" whenever a yellow car goes by. Maybe it's the fact that we all need something to depend on in this world, and when it breaks, we have to find something else. Is this whole thing a constant search for dependence; a journey for home? Or are we designed to convince ourselves that outgrowing dependencies is healthy, that our independence is an easier, faster route? What is the route leading to? The snow is hopefully going to be here tomorrow. Questions remain. Colours will be changed soon. If anyone reads this, give me some input on colour changes. And whatever the hell else you want to see on hoonlives95. (The site. Not the author. Mind out of the gutter please.) As for the philosophy, or lack thereof, you all shouldn't worry. It's good to just sit here and wonder about what you're doing, remember what you did, and fantasize about the future. Or dread. Or what have you! It's your future. Me, I'm just looking for that wide open field. Think about it, and i'd give up forever to touch you, cause i know that you feel me somehow 12:02 a.m. - Saturday, Jan. 30, 2010 The Diaryland advertisements continue to amaze, day after day. I don't know why, but there's a... oh now I get it. A banner ad called "Bananner." Banana. Banner. Bananner. It's been a long day. Actually, it has. I was up at high school hour, which is apparently before the sun rises. But that means I get to see the sunrise, which is possibly my favourite part of the day. But I usually like to go back to sleep after watching the sun rise. You can't always get what you want, it seems. I think I'm the only one that remembers the Coca-Cola commercial with that song. It's inspirational. Did you know there was a Pepsi commercial in (I think) 2002 with Blind Melon's "No Rain" in the background? Then again that was kind of the megahit of 1992 and all. He's up there, somewhere, I just know it. More on the child suicide: I found this out today. The kid was EIGHT YEARS OLD. And not only did he find suicide the only viable option, he KNEW how to kill himself. An EIGHT YEAR OLD. I can kind of understand the teenage cutters and people hanging themselves. But seriously. Eight years old. It's heartbreaking. That one is heartbreaking. We were talking about suicide in class today, because we're reading- closer to murdering- Romeo & Juliet. Again. And it was this discussion question on whether suicide was an honorable death or not. I said how I thought that it wasn't honorable, because you're really only helping yourself. And you don't even know if you're helping yourself or not. A lot of suicide survivors- people who "did it wrong"- say that the worst part of this was that they immediately regretted trying to kill themselves. But it was always a fleeting thought, right before the end. And you're not helping anyone else, either. Think about how many kids he made cry, because they never got their second chance to be his friend. Think about the damage that did to his family; think about how his mother feels. Hell, if MY mother reacted like she did, how did the kid's mother feel? It's really a selfish thing to do. You're not helping anyone, and you don't know if you're helping yourself. Maybe this argument could save a life or two. This isn't a private blog, you know. Think about it, i've been sitting here for hours, damn i really have got to pee 9:45 p.m. - Thursday, Jan. 28, 2010 I thought I'd lost my oldest iPod just then. Wow. My short description would've been something along the lines of "HOLY SHIT MY IPOD JUST DIED FOR THE LAST TIME." But no. Thank God. It just hadn't been charged in forever. I'm trying to keep it alive as long as I can. This is the 2nd generation red one I got in 2007. And I love it to death. So, my iPod dying would've made me change my short description to that. And then I'd break my new year's resolution of having it always be some kind of song lyric. (Yes, this is a song lyric, believe it or not.) And it's adding to all the goodness of me procrastinating my history homework. It'll be fine. Fine, I tell you. Today I heard about something that really hit home. A girl killed herself because of cyber bullying. What made me more upset than anything is that not only does this shit kind of happen, it happens too often for our country to truly be stable. Kids are killing themselves over words sent over the fastest medium of communication we have. Taps on the keyboard, fingers typing, can come between someone's life. And you all wonder why I find the iPad fucking terrifying. Soon it's gonna be a poke. I don't know. Technology scares me sometimes. Just the speed at which we're advancing as a race, much less a species. Soon the people who remember the real stories of growing up, of playing cop's 'n robbers and comic strips, making forts and checkers, marbles and jump rope, are going to be- no, are already in the process of being replaced by video games, TV and Nerf guns. That is, whenever the kids decide to take their eyes off Call of Duty, get off the couch and visit the outside world. I mean I guess that's how the world works. But will we laugh and forget about our ancestors, without whom we couldn't have come this far? Or will we always remember them? Then again. This is the kid spending a good two hours on the computer a day. Hypocrisy is obvious and irrelevant to mention. I admit it. Which is why I'm so goddamn good at it. Let me also point out, on a completely different subject: The way you operate as a person doesn't have to influence the way someone else operates as a person. Today I was nearly convinced into guilt-tripping someone as a better method of getting what I want. The fact is that not only does it not work 90% of the time, because most people do have self-confidence, but that also I happen to hate being guilt-tripped. That tends to influence a lot of my decisions and actions. And I don't think it'd be particularly fair for me to do that to someone else. What is guilt-tripping, you might ask? It's not a Scottish hallucinogen, if that's what you were thinking. (Gilt... I don't know.) Guilt-tripping is the act of giving yourself the appearance of being in a position where you're unhappy or uncomfortable, so that other people see this and try to make you happier. This replaces the act of directly asking for things, which usually works out in the end, and can make someone feel pretty bad about themselves if they aren't able to supply happiness to the person who's guilt-tripping them. I know it well, I can smell that shit a mile away. Why? Because that's how my family operates. And nothing ever, EVER gets done, and we all end up unhappy. So, guilt-tripping isn't a good thing. So knock it off. Another note: J.D. Salinger died today. He was 91. I'm not sure why that's important but I thought I'd put it up. "Oh, shits and giggles." Also: "I'm an expert." -John Krasinski I don't know why it's so hysterical, but any time I hear him say it I start laughing. Uncontrollably. It's just too funny. If you haven't noticed on the Tumblr, I'm on Twitter. You can probably find it on the Tumblr. SEE? ISN'T IT GOD DAMN SCARY THAT I CAN USE WORDS LIKE "TUMBLR" AND "TWITTER" AND EVERYONE IMMEDIATELY KNOWS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT?!? This is just too much for me to handle. Maybe I'll get over it someday. Even though the chances of that happening are slim to none. I'm still not over the Alzheimer's milkshake thing. But, I suppose time moves on. And hell, if I can plough through half of freshman year with my head down, not looking up, I figure I can go through plenty more. Think about it, and you hold my hand and you understand 10:36 p.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 26, 2010 You understand that life rolls on, and that there's no stopping it from doing so. And the same person who's sitting next to me watching the sunrise is gonna be the person watching the sunset. Which is exactly how it should be. At least, on my planet. No, I don't know where it is. But it has wide open spaces. So wide, in fact, that you can have two people standing at the opposite poles and still see each other amidst the ochre grass and wildflowers. And when they turn around fully, they'll see the same people. And the clouds will be fantastic. -shudder- Where am I? Oh, right. Hi. Today two metro workers were struck and killed. One of them was sixty-eight years old. Which not only means that he knew the tracks and the inner-workings of Metro, but that he could've been retired. I don't know anymore. I'm going to my planet now. Think about it, you're barely nineteen, you're a singing machine 6:13 p.m. - Monday, Jan. 25, 2010 Now that's a symbolic song. Makes perfect sense right now. And there are like two people who are gonna put that in google and go, "Oh, THAT song?" And they won't care. And that's about it. Am I surprised by that? No! That's how the world works today it seems. And tomorrow, and the day after that. It's just more apparent on some days than it is on others. Probably because the problems relate directly to me today, instead of just being a general idea on other days. The clouds were fantastic today. I just got off the phone with a reassurance, I suppose would be the appropriate term. "They can't all be ballads, Julian." Think about it, without 40 oz. of social skills, i'm just an ass in the crack of humanity 1:52 p.m. - Monday, Jan. 25, 2010 A huge manatee. Why am I surprised? Why is this such a big deal? Is it symbolic for something else? Or am I just fucking insane? It's not that surprising, really. But it's still slightly perturbing. Y'know? No, you probably don't want to know. Think about it, "and... and i don't know." 1:17 p.m. - Sunday, Jan. 24, 2010 Psh. Who ELSE would say that? http://www.questforbalance.com/2010/01/24/inspiration-from-kurt-vonnegut-life-beyond-computers/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+questforbalance%2FwQlk+%28Quest+For+Balance%29 It made me think. Because I really do agree with what the author is saying. It makes a hell of a lot of sense, and scares the shit out of me to be perfectly honest. But what am I doing now? And what was the author doing, telling us about it? How was he contributing to this idea? I'm not degrading him. I mean I can't. It's making me think, regardless of how I heard about this. But at the same time, it's kind of a Stalinist move. Or communist. Or, whatever. Communism sounds like such a fucking good idea. I'm sorry, but seriously. All people are created equal. How does it get any better than that? See but then Russia had to go and screw that up 'cause Americans wanted in. Another note on Americans. We are such pussies. I have justification for this statement. A man was found in Haiti yesterday. Two weeks after the horrible earthquake, he was found underneath a massive pile of rubble. HE SURVIVED BY SIPPING A SODA. THROUGH A STRAW. FOR TWO FUCKING WEEKS. And I know people who can't function without coffee in the morning. Now, I'm not saying that I'm any better. If I don't get my Jerry's cheesesteak, it's usually a pretty dismal afternoon. But this is because it's available. And not only available, it's taken for granted. I want water, I can get up, go to my kitchen, open the fridge, and get clean motherfucking water. And drink it! And go back to my room. There are places where people have to walk MILES for water. And by miles I mean literal miles, not your seemingly endless hallway. We as Americas have the power to do something about it. We're helping a tremendous amount of people in Haiti. But what about the people dying every day in other parts of the world? The fact that we CAN fix it, and HAVEN'T, is one thing. I can kind of cope with that. But the fact that we CAN fix it, and we HAVEN'T, BUT WE CLAIM TO HAVE FIXED IT, is just god damn frustrating. And I'm not saying that I can do anything by posting this. This is just me ranting about what I think is the matter with the world. And I can't say much else, because I don't KNOW about much else. They're not teaching us about this in school. I just found out the name of the pro-abortion case TWO DAYS AGO, because in school we're too busy learning about the Great Depression. Which, you know, is important. But I learned all that shit from the American Girl books. What really bothers me is that they're not teaching us about it, because they don't want us to know about it. So that we think this government's injustice is simply the way things work. No, you can't have an abortion. No, you can't marry someone of the same sex. (Am not even going to delve into THAT wound. I'm already pissed off enough) No, you can't have an opinion at fourteen. And they're not teaching us about it because they want us to think that it's normalcy. They WANT it to be the way things work. "And... and I don't know." Think about it, but man, oh man, you can do what you want 11:11 a.m. - Saturday, Jan. 23, 2010 Not to condone sexism. But that song is fantastic. And it's a guy singing it to a girl, so fuck you. Also that's one of those songs that has a person and a place tied to it. So whenever you hear it, you remember that one moment with that person. And that moment happens to be pretty cool. So yeah. I think it's the saddest thing in the world that I didn't post anything yesterday. It was because I was pretending to have a life. On facebook. Which is kind of impossible. But I got so caught up with facebook that I forgot to post something last night. It wouldn't have been too interesting; nothing really happened yesterday. But tonight I'm sleeping over at a friend's house, and then Sunday I'm volunteering at one of those basketball game fundraiser things again. It's a UMD-Duke game, so we're gonna get a lot of business. I'm pretty cised. Yes. Cised. Circa 1996. Haha. The man in red's made his appearance again. All three guys reading this don't understand what I mean by that. That's alright. It's just not a particularly good week to piss me off. Or bring up the Yankees. Or the Cowboys. Or whoever it was that beat the Colts last week. (Was it the Saints? I forget.) And LEAST of all, Jonathan Papelbon. Yeah. Not a good week for the neanderthals of the sports world. I had a really interesting dream the night before last. I was in tak pak, and I was going to my friend's house. And I ended up in someone else's house, but before that, I saw some of my own stuff in their house. It was apparently a mom and her adolescent daughter living alone together. And in the daughter's room was my lamp, my afghan, and a big stack of Post-it notes. They had words and letters carved into them, and they were all the same. Like someone had taken an Exact-o knife and just carved the words. And they were all perfectly lined up as though they'd been typed. I flipped through all the Post-its and it looked exactly the same. Then the woman comes home and gets in an argument with her daughter, and I realise: it's NOT my friend's house. Then I wake up. I dunno. I just thought it was interesting. Try listening to Back Home Again in Indiana sometime. Performed by Straight No Chaser, of course. I have no idea what their name means, but I love that song. It's like finally climbing under the covers and feeling your body finally drift off to sleep. Like every part of you is just settling down, slowly. And you aren't bothered by anything, and it's nice and warm. And you don't have to worry anymore. Cheesy, I know. Think about it, am i the boxer or am i the bag? 9:53 p.m. - Thursday, Jan. 21, 2010 Hmmm hmmm, boxer or the bag, aww yeahhhh. I think everyone should do an Eddie Vedder impression every now and again. It's good for the soul. And it brings you back to where you are. Because no one has ANY idea what the fuck he's saying in that song. But it's so pretty. So I'm not really gonna question it at the moment. Mmkay? Moving on. Exams are FINALLY over. I'm so happy. And that sounds apathetic & bored because I'm not using exclamation points. But, it's almost 10 PM and I've gotten a collective of 3 hours of sleep this entire week. So why don't you just take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut? Argh. I'm sorry. Something to think about: why am I apologising so much? I wonder. Is it because I'm really sorry for something, and feel legitimate guilt for something that I did? Or is it to patch up a connection that I don't want to be mangled? Or maybe it's just my natural way of doing things. I don't know. But I don't like apologising so much, because I've been brought up under people who do that constantly. And it doesn't solve any problems, it just makes everything look prettier in the end. I don't know. You tell me. Today feels like one of those jam-packed days. I don't know why, really. Whenever I spend a long time hanging out with people after class is out, I feel like it's jam-packed. Maybe that's because I'm having so much fun that I lose track of everything else. Because in the end I suppose none of it matters, not really anyway. Nothing will be the same. I wonder why Bjork is coming to me at a time like this? I wonder who actually knows that what I said was a Bjork quote. I wonder how to get an umlaut on an O on a Diaryland post. The world may never know. That's enough for one night. Are YOU the boxer? Or are you the bag? Think about it, it says "sometimes whispering's okay, but maybe you'd feel better if you screamed today" 10:26 p.m. - Wednesday, Jan. 20, 2010 Another good song. The slightest bit meaningful. Or not. I can't really tell anymore. Can you? Let's move on. I was sitting down for a good straight hour today, and my feet fell asleep for no reason. It might have had to do with the fact that it was freezing outside. But I had a, uh, personal space heater. So it didn't feel that cold. My feet don't usually fall asleep unless I'm sitting cross-legged for too long. And then its prickly & uncomfortable. But whatever. I have big feet. Have I told you? I wonder why I'm talking to my blog like it's a person again. Am I trying to find more communication? It's not like I couldn't talk to friends. I have friends, y'know. Just... not at 10:30 at night, the night before the last day of finals. Excuse me. YES! There we go. Emphatic exclamation of excitement finished. On with it. On with what? I have nothing to tell you. It was rainy today. Then it was sunny. No, I don't know why. There will be meatloaf and fucking peas. Think about it, meet me in outer space (better late than never) 4:43 p.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 19, 2010 ((So my justification for this is in the area of my ONE-TIME grammatical incorrectness. Today is not only 1 month before my birthday- more on that later- but it's also 1 week, 1 day after the last time I was supposed to post an "11th." Take out the words "week" and "day." What do you get? Our magic friend 11. But nowhere near as magic as three. Enjoy.)) The door shut behind him as he ran outside, into his backyard. Wind whipped his hair back as he squinted to see what was in front of him. The trees sang in the harsh gusts that came from somewhere he couldn't see. He noticed something descending before him, but he couldn't see. Floodlights pierced the innocent grass, bringing his forearm up to guard his face. His dog barked from behind the screen door, and kept going for quite awhile. The grass flattened as though a helicopter- or something bigger- were landing. And suddenly, there was nothing. He took his forearm down, away from his face. The lights, the wind, all were gone. The dark sky, dusted with stars on the warm July night, hung over them like a blanket. And from the sky, surrounded by a faint yellow light, was Eve. She lingered in the sky, slowly descending. The wind had subsided into a weak summer breeze, the trees quivering at her arrival. Pale feet met the grass, toes curling in the wetness. Her thin legs were planted firmly, but she look as though she could float away as easily as she'd landed. Amber-brown eyes shot at him from beneath her waves of golden curls. Her fingers played around the hem of her lightweight, bleach-white dress. He stood awkwardly on his own porch, running a hand through his own dark curls. There wasn't much he could say. His thought pattern was as scattered as the blades of grass beneath her feet. Maybe if he just waited for her to talk, then words might come to him. Yeah. That's what would happen. She just had to talk first. "Adam," she said. The words hung in the air, echoing off the insects' subconscious hum. Her facial expression didn't change in the slightest. But he knew that she meant something else. "Eve," he responded. He could play that game too. The slightest of smirks slipped across her face. She approached him. Her feet moved mechanically, as she wasn't completely used to the terrain. She'd been so far out of his world that she barely remembered what grass felt like. Adam became nervous. She had the power to kill him with as little as the blink of an eye. "Now, look, Eve. I... I want you to know that I'm sorry for what happened." She took another slow step towards him. A real smile played across her features. "And that it was wrong of me to do that to you." Another step. "No one should ever do that to you. You shouldn't have to stand for that, and I'm sorry that I made you." She was almost on his porchstep. She stopped, looked up at him. Smiled. Adam swallowed nervously. "And I want you to know that..." His voice wavered in disapproval of his following statement. "...that no matter how much you try to intimidate me, that I'm not afraid of you." This was the biggest lie he'd ever told anyone. Eve stepped up. She hadn't taken her eyes off Adam this entire time. They stood level to each other, as he became transfixed on each aspect of her perfect face. The slightest curve of her cheek, the smoothness of her pale skin, the slightest point of her nose. Her perfect eyes. They drowned him; he found himself swimming in a giant sea of amber. It hardened. He was trapped. Eve held her hand out. The smile still lingered, a sign that she knew something he didn't. "You're gonna want to take that," she said in a melodic voice that didn't belong to this world. She indicated her outstretched hand. Adam looked on it with a furrowed brow; not in distaste, but in thoughtfulness. He checked Eve's expression again. There were no tricks, just a smile. He looked at it once more. And, not knowing what would happen, but not caring too much either, he took it in his hand and held it tight. And then he spun her around, her weight meaningless on this earth. He took her up in his arms and kissed her like the world hadn't moved since the beginning of time, and as they met, the earth spun back into motion. "Look down," Eve whispered. Bare toes lingered up high, over the picture of the suburbs below. He let out a tiny, nervous laugh. His eyes widened subconsciously. They were drawing away. "Now look up," he said. ((Think about it, you can't start a fire without a spark 8:21 a.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 19, 2010 It's definitely a day to quote The Boss. Also that's blasting from the speakers behind me at a soothing two billion decibels, in the immortal words of Christopher Titus. This one's rushed. Why am I posting at 8:30 in the morning? Oh. Because I don't have an exam until 9:30 this morning. And I was going to go early to study what I know nothing about, and therefore be more prepared for the exam. I think I told you this. But that's now cut short because I am currently off to see the DENTIST. At eight thirty in the morning. After which my mother will bring me back to school, maybe in time for me to miss my science exam. Woo-hoo. Well I have to say that'd be pretty cool. But at the same time... Sigh. I'm gonna get there, and the teacher's gonna go, "Where's your textbook?" And I'm gonna go, "I had to rush to get here," and she's gonna go "That's a load of horseshit, I don't believe you, I'm charging you a financial obligation," to which I will reply "Hey Fuck You" in the words of Adam Yauch, flip her off and get the whole class running out with me in a fit of Kurt Vonnegut quotes. Think about it, i know it's clear; you want me dear, it would be easier if i was never here. 10:31 p.m. - Monday, Jan. 18, 2010 God damn that's such a good song. Hmm. I should count how many times I say that after I post my status, and then make a playlist of all the songs I'm referring to. Maybe. That'd be an interesting fun thing to do. On a rainy day, perhaps. So I don't know how many of you have checked out my Tumblr but it's worth taking a peek at. Just for funsies. Haha. Maybe? Alright. Why am I wired again? It's ten thirty at night on the day before my science exam. Which I'm not gonna do well on. Which means I'm gonna have to take another physical science in high school. Sigh. Oh well. As long as I take bio next year, I won't be too irked. And not to say that other things aren't irking me this evening. (I love that word.) But my grades do happen to be at the top of the list. Tonight, at least. Because before anything gets changed in the other category, things need to change in the grades category. Which means I've got to knuckle down and study my little ass off. Sigh. It really is a bullshit science class. Bullshit as in the-teacher-made-up-half-the-curriculum-on-her-own type bullshit. Bullshit. In a Russian accent: Bullshit! Because of course, exclamation points entail Russian accents. Maybe asterisks. *Bullshit.* With an exclamation point. *Bullshit!* Dammit, now I'm hooked on phonics. I love you more than A-Rod loves Jay-Z. WHOA I JUST NOTICED A NAME PALINDROME THINGY. THAT'S CRAZY. Yeah. I'll be going now. Think about it, what do you think they would say if i stood up & walked away? 11:20 p.m. - Saturday, Jan. 16, 2010 A day for a Shannon Hoon quote. The Colts beat the Ravens. Home beat home. And y'all wonder why I love Indiana. I wonder why the one thing that people remember about Marilyn Manson is the fact that he removed one of his ribs to give himself head. I also wonder why the one thing people remember about Michael Jackson is the fact that he went to court for allegedly raping little boys. Maybe we're focused on the repulsiveness of humanity, because we're used to it being pristine. Are we searching for some dirt to plague our boring, mundane flower petals of life? Or do we just think it's funny? Something to munch on. Another something to munch on: realisation. Sometimes you can do something, and go a good while without realising you've done it. And even then, it takes awhile for you to realise what your actions mean. Why is this? Are we so in tune with the present that we don't notice the past or future? I know this isn't true, because I dwell in the past and worry about the future too much for it not to be true. But it has to be. I mean, it's happened before. It happened recently. And it'll undoubtedly happen again. Where you'll step back from yourself and go "Oh my God, I really DID." Sigh. I'm going to eat cheesecake and let this whole thing... slip away. Maybe. Think about it, all i wanna do is ride bikes with you, and stay up late, and watch cartoons 1:51 p.m. - Saturday, Jan. 16, 2010 Um. I wanted to apologise for yesterday. That shit needed to come out. But probably not with such ferocity. I'm sorry everyone. I really hope nothing got like... misconstrued? I don't know. This was supposed to be better than it turned out to be. I don't know what I've done. I'm gonna shut up now.
you do something to me that i can't explain. 3:41 p.m. - Friday, Jan. 15, 2010 ((I think this entry is long & poetic & metaphorical enough for me to make up for missing January 11th. So here ya go. Don't think about it too much.)) Before you start firing your flaming arrows and sporks and other means of destruction at me: I sincerely apologise for not posting this week. Time eluded me again. And now it's back in my hands, if only for a short while. So what do I do with this time? I sit on my fat ass and write three paragraphs to three people, because I'm making up for lost time and I just want to get it out. No worries-- I'm not naming anyone. But I have a feeling you're gonna know who you are. I suppose it's in chronological order, starting with what's right now plaguing me (not Satin cold, by the way, I mean what's on my mind. Cold still exists but not as harsh, thank you for asking), but the truth of the matter is that they're ALL plaguing me. All at the same time. And that's not beneficial either, but this is my blog and I'm gonna say what's on my mind. 'Cause that's what blogs are for. So without further ado, or adue, I've lost interest: what I would say to your face if I had the balls. And here we go. I don't need to hear a lot of what I'm hearing. It's not beneficial, really-- in that I know it's not helping anyone, nor is it going to help anyone in the long run. You talk too much. Which is normally alright, and I can understand that. Because hell, I do too. I've already filled up like half a page with an introductory statement, so I'm gonna end up writing a book by the time I'm finished here. But in this case it really isn't doing anyone any good. Normally it would cause a distraction, if not another topic of conversation. It's that you talk like there's never going to be anything after this day. As though we're going to walk away from each other, and respective atomic bombs will explode in our faces and we'll die. And I'm not gonna die. And I told you this, and you still don't seem to quite comprehend that. The fact that life in fact does roll on, if only for a short while, seems like a concept that you can't quite grasp. Which is alright. I suppose I know that now. And none of what you're saying is offensive or rude or anything like that, I just don't need to hear it. I don't mean to insult you when I say that this is basically the tip of the iceberg for me, even though it's the truth. I have so much on my plate right now. And I thought we were alright, and then within like twenty minutes we're having another drawn-out conversation about things that may matter, or may have mattered before, but don't matter now. And we both know and understand that they don't matter, and I know you get that. You're not stupid, we just have crap timing is all. And that's no one's fault. But it seems like you're purposefully pushing me away, even though you've said so many times how you want to get closer. And I know you don't want to be near me or far away from me, you want Neutrality. Which I'm fine with. I just don't see how we can achieve that when you're bringing things up again. I'd tried to blanket any type of fire that could burn things down mentally, and I thought I'd had it covered. And I thought you knew that I was trying to. But now everything is burning up around me, and all three people who are still reading this are concerned, if not already calling me. And I don't need that. I was fine. And I really don't mean this to hurt anyone or anything, I promise I don't. I'm seriously trying not to hurt anyone in this situation, but it doesn't seem to be working very well. Because when I open up the bandaid to see if everything's okay, it just starts bleeding again. And I don't know what the fuck kind of Neosporin to put on it to make it stop. I thought I had made it stop. Was it my fault that you brought everything up again? Was it my fault that I learned basically your entire life story, when you know about two percent of mine? I do know that it was my fault for not showing you mine, but I can't fix that now. Nor can you fix opening up to me. I'm not angry, I just... I don't see how anyone is being helped by it. That's all I mean. I don't want you to not do it, just not now. It wasn't a good time. And I was too quiet about it, which is the opposite of me. At least I thought it was. But now I'm going back to being submissive and letting people walk all over me, and that's no fun. So I'm not gonna let it happen again, which I guess is why I'm posting this? Also the fact that I wanted to get it out. But the fact that you haven't let it go makes me feel guilty about it. Because I've let it go- at least, I've tried to. And I really want to. We're not in a good position where we can't let it go, as you said yourself. And I don't mean to be petulant or an asshole (which I suppose I'm going to end up majoring in college) and I know that it sounds like I'm coming off that way, but I really do understand what you're trying to say. And I understood it the first time, and I thought you knew that. I thought it was all water under the bridge, but you wanted to go fishing. And I'm not one for fishing this time of year. Sigh. One paragraph done. Jesus, it looks intimidating. On to the next one. God, I don't know what to say. It's such a fucking conundrum that I'm at a loss for words. The first part was just too clear with what I had to say, and now... I don't know. I want to be able to open up and be real with you. But at the same time I don't want you knowing about that part of me. It's weird. There's this huge big tent-ish curtain I've got going, and I wear it as a cape, and that's what people really see of me. And I want some people to come under the cape, but it's too risky to think of what they'll do once they're close to me. I trust you, I really do. There's absolutely no doubt in my mind. But at the same time, I can't. And that's scary, and not something I feel like I can share with you. I don't want to become dependent on anyone, because it hurts when you're forced into your own independence. I mean I know that I'd recover from it, eventually anyway, but I don't want to hurt... at all. And I don't want to hurt anyone else. You're such a fantastic person, and you've got so many things going for you. I can't think of what I'd do if you got hurt. Especially on my account. Because then it'd be my fault, and... It wouldn't be nice. I'd absolutely hate it. And I don't know how it would come about, but I don't know how to prevent it from coming about either. I love this, I really do. I'm just not in a good position for it right now. And I also don't want to make you feel bad-- even though I'm pretty sure you don't care-- that there's a section in this post that doesn't pertain to you that is longer than yours. Chances are there'll be two of those. And I'm sorry. It's that everything else is so complicated, and I took comfort in the fact that this was so simple. But I need you to realise that it's going to be complicated, and that I'm not a perfect person, and that I screw things up with a wave of my hand. Unintentionally, but often. And I'm not going to change, no matter how many times Shannon Hoon says that I should. Because that part's out of my control. Believe me, if I could change what I wanted to, I'd be in a much better position than I am now. And I think a lot of people would. But I can't change it, and it hurts. So I'm sorry, and I hope that you'll forgive me. But if you can wait a little while for the storm to blow over, I can do my best to make it up to you. Just not now. That one hurt. And now, last but not least. You... you're just confusing. I don't know what to think, or say, or do. And I also don't know what I already have done to be in this position. I mean, think about it. A year ago, I didn't know you existed, much less that there was something. And somethings are big and exciting and overwhelming and I don't know what I'm going to do about it. Because, as you can see, there are plenty of somethings in my life, and I'm not sure I need another one right now. And yet I know that if I push you away, you're not gonna come back. Which scares me. But I'm a big kid, and I know you're a big kid, and we'd come out of it alright. I think. I know you would, I probably would. It might take longer. But I'd be alright eventually. I just don't want you to hold out waiting for me. Because I know that you won't. It's common sense. No one does. Not in our position. So don't. And I know it's not waiting, and I know I shouldn't think of it that way. But I can't help feeling weird about it. Because I'll talk to you, and I'll talk to them, and I don't know which is which. I mean, I know who I'm talking to. But I don't know what they are to me. Is it my friend and my "friend?" Or are they just two friends? I don't know. And you probably have less of an idea than I do. So I think we should either figure it out, and take time to figure it out, or give this one up and just let everything float on. It might hurt. But hell, this post is painful. I figure if I can write deaf letters to three people about things I don't have the "testicular fortitude" (my music teacher's words, not mine) to talk about to their face, then I figure I can figure out where the fuck I am and what type of demented fuckin' Garmin I used to get here. And I can also find a different way. Not necessarily a way out, just a different route. So if you'd like to figure it out then please do let me know. Because I want to, I just don't want to without you. I think that covered it pretty well. You all have probably been confused and pissed off and mislead enough tonight. It's not important. Don't worry. Think about it, hoonlives95 when everything's made to be broken, i just want you to know who i am 9:20 p.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 12, 2010 God damn that's such a good song. You know what's a completely human thing to do, that I seem to keep on doing? Not noticing something that's right in front of your face. I'm the kind of horse who'll have a carrot in front of them, and will look past it to the giant field of carrots and sugar cubes and apples and good horse stuff, all past that one carrot. And when I've exhausted myself running, I can only then remember the sole carrot in front of me. A carrot a day keeps cancer away. I'm organising a bunch of CD's I, uhm, borrowed from my brother. It's perfectly justifiable. He told me he had a hard copy (with CD spread and all) of Blind Melon's last studio album together, Soup. And he said it was in a big cardboard box full of CD's. I mean packed. And most of it was Marilyn Manson and Staind and Tool, all of which I kind of stray from listening to. So I look through this entire box, and I don't see it. What I do see are several slightly decent CD's- i.e., Sour Juice & Rhyme by Bitch and Animal, A Place in the Sun by Lit, Everybody Loves You by Kaki King, etc.- that I could use, and wouldn't hurt my collection. So, I blew the dust off 'em and they're now in my CD stack. So sue me. You don't get between me and my Hoonage without paying the price. So I'm going to go be a normal human being for awhile-surprise!- and take a shower. Like real people do. Because I suppose real people don't eat salami and pickles and doughnuts and cheesesteaks, and drink Dr Pepper and laugh hysterically at sexual innuendos and walk down Colesville singing Baby Fratelli at the top of their lungs. Nope. Not a soul. Think about it, tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet? 10:12 p.m. - Monday, Jan. 11, 2010 I hate afternoon naps. Now I need to rephrase that. I hate afternoon naps when you haven't had any sleep the night before, and you were decidedly alright the entire day, and then you get home and just collapse. And then you say, "I'm only gonna sleep for an hour," and then you wake up ten minutes before dinner, and like five hours have slipped away. And you think the sun is fucked up and there should be a reason why it's dark at 8:30 in the morning, but then you realise it's still 8:30 at night the day you fell asleep. The reason for which I got no sleep last night isn't decent enough to be disclosed to such neanderthals- the word of the day- as yourselves. (Aren't I just classy like that?) But I will say that for what I remember of today, it was a day to remember. I'm not telling you why that came about either. YES I KNOW IT'S THE 11TH AND I SHOULD BE POSTING SOME CREATIVE WRITING FLUFF BUT I'M WORKING ON MY TUMBLR AND IT'S COMING ALONG SLOWLY BUT SURELY AND YOU ALL DON'T MISS MY LITTLE LOVE SCENES ANYWAY SO YOU JUST SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH WHEN BILLY MAYS IS TALKING. That covered it pretty well I thought. You're also probably wondering why the most played song of 1990-whatever (save No Rain!) is in the title. That's because it's been stuck in my head all day. And by all day, I mean from 12 AM this morning to now. It's not that bad of a song, and it definitely has its good points and its metaphors and whatnot. Just that I don't exactly need it right now is all. Do you ever have little quirks like that? Where they don't necessarily hurt anyone, but at the same time they aren't really helping? Like someone who doesn't know how to work an extra register at a concession stand (bad metaphor but shut up, it's my blog). It's fine, because it's an extra register and there aren't any lines, but at the same time, the incompetent neanderthal (two!) is taking up extra space. Eh. Whatever. Not that I'd want to kill of said incompetent neanderthal. Just let them take a break for awhile, y'know? I'm tired. Going back to bed. Back to the choppas!! I'm fatigue-drunk, excuse me. Don't take this one to heart. Think about it, out back where they plant all the trees, 10 feet away my daddy buries me 10:19 p.m. - Saturday, Jan. 09, 2010 So, it wasn't my grandfather. No. It was my sister that I never knew. She died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome. She was twelve months old I think. And I found out that it was her anniversary instead of my grandfather's, and I felt that I should justify that fact. I never knew either of them. But at the same time there's a difference between my sister and my grandfather. I mean I'm sure that whenever I get up there, wherever they are, I'll meet them and it'll be alright. Or at least slightly justified. But for now I'm kind of stuck with this vague image in my head. I'm at a friend's house. The keyboard is pink and rubber. Very strange. I kind of put a damper on the mood of this post. But for all you readers out there (or in here, as it were), I'm not always this depressing-sounding. It'll get better, I promise. Think about it, on the tip of my tongue an offensive is poised & rearing 2:25 a.m. - Saturday, Jan. 09, 2010 Mhm. I'm starting something big. To everyone who hasn't noticed the time & date above this entry: Yes. It is, in fact, 2:30 in the morning on a Saturday. Did I intentionally get up this early? No, because it's before the 4 am mark. People never plan on waking up at 2 in the morning unless they're catching a flight or train or something that they can't change the departure time of. So how am I awake? Well it had to do with me discovering the first season of Weeds on Netflix. God damn I love that show. It reminds me of all the fucked up dreams I have. And then reminds me that they're all fiction and I'm not as delusional as I think I am. That was an exasperated yawn, I have to say. Today- well, yesterday, I suppose. January 8th- holy fuck, it's the 9th already. When did that happen? Jesus. Well I'm on that track. Hang on. I'm making a point, I swear. Yesterday, January 8th, 2010, was apparently the anniversary of my late grandfather's passing. Ugh. I'm sorry. It's just that the people that use those terms don't like me. So I don't like their terms. They make me anxious. Like I'm presenting an essay or something. I don't like it. So I'm not gonna say "anniversary of my late grandfather's passing." I'm gonna say, "my mom's father died on this day." Because that's what it is. Passing is what you do in the hallways with your friends, or in classes. It's not going from here to eternity. I'm sorry. But that's how I see it. And passed away... Away? Like they don't still have a part of you? Did they die, or did you slowly begin to forget them? That's what "passed away" should mean. Like a friend you connected with, and then slowly grew apart. Until one day you completely forget about them. And then later, they get reincarnated when you're looking through your college address book to get married or something, and you go "Who are they? Oh my God!" and you hate yourself for forgetting them. It shouldn't mean dying, it should mean something else. Lots of things should mean other things. My grandfather. I'm sorry. God, now I'm gonna feel guilty because I went on a metaphorical rant again. Fabulous. My apologies. This was meant to be commemorative and now it's just... sigh. Maybe posting at 2 am wasn't such a hot idea after all. Or maybe there's a sense of clarity that isn't present during the day? Another epic yawn. And another. Maybe this clarity is bringing me to realise things that I hadn't before. That I need to stop and look at where I am, and after freaking out about it, calm down and get somewhere else. Or realise that I should stay here, because it's comfortable. I don't know if it's comfortable yet is all. There's a little piece of news going around that I caught a glimpse of: there's apparently a study in the UK about a new treatment for Alzheimer's patients. Hold onto your Slim-Fast: it's a MILKSHAKE. Literally. Well, I suppose it's a drink mix, or a prepared beverage. And it's not anywhere near being ready for marketing. But still. A fucking MILKSHAKE. That means there will be a point in humanity where we can go into the refrigerator, pour ourselves a glass of milk, and mix in either a spoonful of chocolate syrup and get chocolate milk, or a packet of THIS shit and remember your fucking childhood. What's next, UK? Arthritis smoothies? I'm sorry. It pisses me off, I guess. I don't know why, really. I mean I'm not endorsing Alzheimer's, but at the same time... it's a fucking drink mix. That's just god damn scary to me, I'm sorry. And I know that's the seven-billionth time I've used the word fuck tonight, I know, I know. I'm tired and my censorship is kind of fried right now. But I guess if you knew me personally then it wouldn't be as bad. Because that's kind of how I normally talk. At least on the subject of... Alzheimer's milkshakes. MY. GRANDFATHER. Why am I not writing about my grandfather? This shouldn't be hard. I should just be able to say something classy like, "He was a great man and we're all gonna miss him." Except with vocation, because I'm being sarcastic here. And I should be able to, but I can't. Because I don't know. I keep hearing all these stories and things about the grandparents and the family I never knew, because I wasn't old enough. When the fuck am I old enough? And did God, or whoever's running the ship up there, decide to increase my maturity level to make up for lost years? Hell, I could've been born anytime. But no, he had to pick the year Shannon fucking Hoon died, so I was barely ALIVE for any of his life. So I can't even say, "Oh, yeah, I love Blind Melon. They're a great band. Yeah. Shame about Shannon Hoon, huh? God, I remember how devastated I was when he OD'ed in '95." I DON'T HAVE THE AUTHENTICITY TO SAY THAT. I WAS A FETUS AT BEST. I have no idea why I'm getting angry about this. It's sad, yes, but nothing to be pissed off about. Or maybe it is? Maybe that's what's really pissing me off, underneath it all. Because my grandfather died before I could even meet him. I mean, it's a plausible thing to be upset about. But legitimately annoyed? And angry? Why am I so upset over this?? It's. Almost. Three. In. The. Morning. On. A. Saturday. yeah. Don't think about this one. hoonlives95 oh not i, I will survive. 10:35 p.m. - Thursday, Jan. 07, 2010 Independence is bittersweet for me. Probably because I can't feel completely independent from a former fixation without hating at least a small portion of it. Which is kind of sad sometimes. But I'm gaining independence from something, so it's not a bad thing at all. So I suppose I should shut up about my metaphorical dream world and get on with posting an entry. Sound good? Alrighty. I seriously meant to post last night. But everything was set a couple of hours late yesterday (reason for which was completely viable and I'm definitely not complaining one bit) and I ended up getting out of the shower at around midnight. Which meant that the computer had been taken downstairs, and I couldn't post anything. So I'm apologising- and giving a lengthy suck-up explanation- for why I didn't post, which should at least make up for it, if not excuse it. I'm still sick, miraculously. Eh. Maybe not miraculously. Curiously, wondrously, insanely, depressingly, miserably, monotonously. So, not fun. But it's quite a bit better than it used to be. And I'm pretty sure it'll be gone in another week or so. John Frusciante of the Red Hot Chili Peppers announced that he's leaving the band (AGAIN) and will not be credited for work on their TENTH album. I mean, you couldn't wait a little bit? That's a fucking landmark there. TEN albums. And you're gonna up & go because you can, and because you left for 4 of the first decade of the Chili Peppers? Dude. I'm sorry. But that's a little selfish. Think of all your listeners- the kids who hole up in their rooms with headphones and a copy of Blood Sugar Sex Magik, rocking back & forth and thinking that this is all they have. (Yes, there are more appropriate bands & albums for which to do said actions with, but bear with me.) Think of them. They're gonna hate you. And think of all the people who are just beginning to listen to the Chili Peppers (ludicrous, I know, but again, bear with me), who are gonna hear someone else drumming. On the TENTH album. I mean, you can't just pull a Dirk Lance. Incubus is one thing, and I was pissed off enough about that. But this... This is the Red Hot fucking Chili Peppers, man. You can't- no. You DON'T screw with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. You just don't. That's almost as bad as Travis Warren singing Change, which is a subject I don't want to divulge into when I'm this publicly angry. It wouldn't be pretty. Sigh. I'm sick of drama queen rockstars. Maybe my friends who have bands now will grow up & be real musicians, and be respected for such. Or maybe we'll all run around donning baggy pants held up with rainbow suspenders and Mardis Gras beads and war paint, with yellow kazoos hanging out of our mouths and "Sunshine Superman" in the air. ...I need to stop daydreaming. Alright. I'm not gonna let tonight end up like last night did. It's already 11. So please, don't prejudice me because I got mad at John Frusciante. He's a musician just like the rest of us, I suppose. Maybe. Freddie Mercury wouldn't have looked for another drummer. Think about it, he's gonna wake up in a smoothie 6:47 a.m. - Wednesday, Jan. 06, 2010 Also a song lyric. Y'know, maybe I should post a song of the day every day, and have the weirdest lyric be the title. Although that's doubtfully the weirdest lyric of the song. Nevertheless. It's almost 7 am, so I'm rushing this post. Why? Because I'm good at that. And I'm also waiting for the excedrin I took to kick in, because my mouth is still fucking sore. And I meant to post last night but I couldn't because I fell asleep, and then had to shower and study and worry about my social life and all that good shit. And tell my parents I loved them, of course. I'm getting jelly doughnuts today. Have to say. I'm pretty cised. Next time you hear from me (along with never using the word "cised" ever again) I'm going to have gotten doughnuts. And yes, you should be jealous. Heheh. Think about it, "there will be meatloaf and fucking peas" -lewis black 4:22 p.m. - Tuesday, Jan. 05, 2010 It's on my iPod so it counts as music. Why am I putting off this post? It's like Christmas eve all over again. Maybe that happens when I have a really bad headache or something. I heard Hey Soul Sister by Train when I was in the orthodontist today. And I went, "nuh-uh" and put my headphones on. That kind of pissed the attendant off, because she didn't believe me when I told her I couldn't open my mouth more. She thought it was because I couldn't hear her. No cheesesteaks for awhile. After everything that happened yesterday, which I'm not going to divulge into, it's good to know that there's someone behind you. It's good to know that you can come home and have your basic but fantastic meat and potatoes. My mouth hurts. I'm going to sleep. If I resurface before tomorrow I'll post something. Think about it, and tonight mr. kite is topping the bill 9:51 p.m. - Monday, Jan. 04, 2010 Yes. It's an actual song. I'm trying to keep the "short description" (the little grey text above the post) within lyrics of some song or another. Whatever seems fitting. And a crazy, LSD-induced circus isn't far from fitting today. (No, I'm not on LSD.) Why, you might ask? Well everything was once so smooth and flat and peaceful. Like a farm road or something. Yes, in Indiana. But now it's become all twisted and convoluted again, and it's turned into the Jersey Turnpike. Or whatever that bigass highway thing in New Jersey is. I wouldn't know. And even though everyone's telling me to use one specific kind of GPS (no it's not a fuckin' Garmin), it's still a bit shaky and I don't know if I can trust it on such a twisted road. But I'm gonna trust it, because it's not a Garmin and I really think it'll work out for the better. I might not end up in New York but I'll at least be out of Jersey. And maybe one day I'll end up back in Indiana. Y'know. Despite the fact that I've never even been to these places. Tomorrow's going to be an eventful day to say the least. I'm getting braces put on my bottom row of teeth. If you can imagine, I'm not all that excited about it. But I guess the sooner I get them on, the sooner I get them off. And I can be a REAL person again! Haha. I figure if I can do everything I've done with just the top, then I can probably pull at least half of it off with bottom ones. Apathy moment; oh well; we're done here. I'm just confused. Kind words are amazing, and I'm lucky to get as many as I'm getting. Don't dwell on it too much (it doesn't pertain), good morning, good morning! 6:32 a.m. - Monday, Jan. 04, 2010 Dear world, Sigh. I just figured I'd enlighten you all with a spectacle of ellie in the morning. Why? Eh, I got up early and everyone should know. So why did I choose a textual example? I'm too lazy to find a camera and expose myself to people who haven't seen me. So, nyah! ...did I really just write out "nyah!" in a post? Oh wow. It's gonna be one long fuckin' day. I'll let y'all know later. I'm off to go get ready now. I love you like Chanco loves white people. Think about it, she's leaving home after living alone for so many years 10:41 p.m. - Sunday, Jan. 03, 2010 Alright. It's almost 11 pm on a Sunday so this isn't going to be a very fulfilling entry, I can tell that already. My dad's already told me to get off the computer, so if I get cut off mid-thought then I apologise in advance. Today I found out that there's a whole other world in view from the backseat of your car. Normally you're facing forward in a car seat; and especially when you're in traffic, all you can see is the backs of the other cars. But when you turn around- and no, the mirrors don't provide you with this option- you can see the front of cars. And the people driving them, and the scenery behind you. And people can see your face instead of just the back of your head. It's also fun to listen to the Live at the Palace 1995 album by Blind Melon while watching cars chase you. I dunno. I'm strange like that. I have She's Leaving Home by The Beatles stuck in my head, and it's been stuck for about three days now. It's such a beautiful song, even though it's really sad. It makes me want to cry. Definitely worth a quick YouTube search. There's school tomorrow. I should get off. But everyone should look back once in awhile, if only to see how far you've come. Think about it, minute clinic = oxymoron 10:19 p.m. - Saturday, Jan. 02, 2010 Here is the blog entry where I end every statement with "oh well." I figure I'll do it once a month and get it over with, so my apathy will be less scattered over time. The Christmas tree is still up in my house, lights and ornaments and all. I'm gonna have to go through and painstakingly take down every ornament that I painstakingly put up. Oh well. My hair is not gonna be this pretty tomorrow because we're legitimately out of conditioner. Oh well. 2009 is gone, and I can't relive what I really liked about it. Oh well. This idea isn't working as well as I wanted it to. Oh well. Fuck. Oh well. I spent two hours in the waiting line at the Minute Clinic today. For those of you that don't know, the Minute Clinic on Saturday afternoon in the middle of Prickville is the biggest oxymoron in the world. Two hours sitting in a chair, reading Marie Claire and learning every nook and cranny of the diapers section of CVS, to find out that my cold is "viral, and there's not much I can do but wait it out." Whoever I pissed off up there, I'm sorry. But I'm going back to school in less than two days and I really, REALLY, really don't want to be sick. Because I've been sick for long enough, and I've had enough of this bullshit. I know you all don't get colds up there, but seriously. That's just mean. And it's no help that everyone I know is hounding me with ideas on how to stay healthy. I'm like "yeah, I'm already doing that." And they go "it's not helping?" And I go "NO SHIT, SHERLOCK." So regardless of the year, being sick is not one of my favourite pastimes. But at least I got a haircut today. And that was nice. I mean it doesn't look all that different. It never does. Has anyone noticed that? Whenever I make a big deal out of something, no one else thinks of it as anything important. And when all my friends are freaking out about something, I'm not worried about it at all. I wonder if I'm more mature, or just insane? Hmm. I'd like to think it's both. But that's enough of me being self-centered. Livelavalive is allegedly posting their last show sometime soon. It's gonna be a sad day for me. When a show called Livelavalive... dies. I don't know. Maybe they're going on to do even better shows and other things. All I can say is "Live Lava Live." Think about it, let the wild rumpus begin. 11:02 a.m. - Saturday, Jan. 02, 2010 Good lord. Have I really not posted for two days? I'm sorry. Completely not my fault. I've been meaning to get on the computer later in the day- because I like posting an entry, closing the computer and going to bed- but then the computer gets taken by other people, and it's just gnarly. So know I'm posting first thing in the morning. Is this going to become a habit? I seriously doubt it. You know why I seriously doubt it? The same people are trying to take it from me again. And then my post turns into the cliffsnotes of what I normally would say. Let me just say this: the brand new box of Poptarts that's sitting on my kitchen table reads "wake up to breakfast." It doesn't sound like a bad idea. Colour changes: I'm diggin' em. Might happen once a month or so. Getting a haircut today. Should be something to talk about. Or maybe you don't care at all. I'd sigh if I were surprised. Got a fantastic new hat yesterday. It's one of those Russian fur hats. Except the fabric part is a golden yellow. It looks like a faux-fur monster trying to eat me and I love it to death. For all those reading this for the first time- or, you know, the two people who I want to make feel like a huddle of people because I'm narcissistic like that- then please, don't judge me off one hurried entry. God gave you a scroll-bar. Think about it, P.S. Eating doughnuts for New Year's is apparently a Polish tradition. And no matter how much time goes by, Polish people will remain awesome in my opinion. what am i doing for new year's? 8:57 p.m. - Wednesday, Dec. 30, 2009 I'm not doing anything. At all. In that sense, at least. I'm not going out to a crazy fancy party or getting drunk with a bunch of friends. Anyone who reads this knows that I wouldn't even think of that. I'm probably going to break my one New Year's Resolution for 2009, which was to have somewhere besides home to spend New Year's Eve. Not because I don't want to. I don't know, it's a feeling of insecurity and being alone. Or something like that. she's not so special, so look what you've done, boy 7:58 p.m. - Monday, Dec. 28, 2009 I found Franz Ferdinand! It's always a good sign when you like the second track of an album just as much- if not more- than the first track. Prime examples include: -Costello Music by The Fratellis And lots more. Jesus Christ, this band rocks. "Take Me Out" should be in an iPod commercial or something. Except they kind of covered this concept with "Shut Up and Let Me Go" by the Ting Tings. Then again, the iPod's click wheel hasn't changed in all 10 years- yes, folks, 10 years of the iPod- of its existence and evolution. So the music shouldn't be THAT different. Then again... argh. I'm driving myself in circles again. On a slightly less ADHD note- because I feel kind of hyper right now- I'm thinking of starting another site, just for my creative writing. It could come in handy when I start applying for colleges and such. And so I can have somewhere to put all my little boredom scribbles, so I don't have to go searching through my Diaryland. Haha. And that way I don't have to just post stories on the 11th of each month. I'll still keep that up though. Just as long as the 11ths keep happening. Haha. But I think that's a good idea. Maybe. Or I'm just insane. Woo hoo for striking revelations of the eighteenth kind. (I don't know.) I'm going to go find food now. Because maybe the weight of the food will bring me down to the real world. Where I can understand and speak of things with a greater grip on functionality. Until then: "Why don't you take a flying fuck at a rolling doughnut? Why don't you take a flying fuck at the MOOOOOON?!" -Kurt Vonnegut Think about it, you know it's just the skin i'm in. 11:00 p.m. - Sunday, Dec. 27, 2009 I find that it's difficult to post a blog entry when you're incapacitated by a doughnut. Because you can only type with one hand, and the other is held captive by delicious glaze and/or frosting and/or jam. God damn, that was a tasty doughnut. This evening, I went to the annual congregation of strangers around a table of delicious food and troublesome drinks (also known as a family Boxing Day party.) I was hoping- no. I'll stop fucking with y'all. I was PLANNING on meeting a good friend of mine there, who told me that they would there. And yet I saw every member of their family except for them. Eh. Life rolls on, I'll survive. Here's today's daily Hoonage: On the album "Live at the Palace, Oct. 1995" (which was coincidentally less than two weeks before his death), the second to last song on the setlist was called "Skinned." The original version is off of their second album Soup, which was released earlier that year, is about a serial killer who makes furniture out of his victims' bodies. It was a tongue-in-cheek-humoured tune, underlined by banjo and- only they could pull it off- kazoo. So for the live version of it, they had roadies throw out kazoos into the audience, and everyone kazoo'ed with the song. And it was fantastic. I'm slowly getting out of this cold thing. Thank God. I really wouldn't want to go back from two weeks of no school coughing & congested as I was. The decongestants (that oh, decided to kick in a little late, oh-ho) are bringing me one step closer to breathing through my nose again. Woo-hoo! Yesterday I confirmed that I'm not going to be leaving Diaryland. This is still valid. But there are going to be some changes around here. So don't be too surprised New Year's Day. The matter of "idle readers" being confused about certain topics came to my attention. And I have to say this: if there were one particular special person in my life right now (besides Shannon Hoon and my other best friends), then you'd know. I haven't really held back on it before, and I don't really intend to in the future. Never ever will I give out names. Ever. That's a promise. But at the same time, I'm not going to bullshit you if I'm happy. Or if I'm unhappy. Have I ever? Think about it, don't forget to breathe 8:41 p.m. - Saturday, Dec. 26, 2009 See this is kind of hard to do when you're massively congested. But, I'm not throwing up, so it's all good. Also. Happy Rex Manning Day, Merry Christmas, and now, happy Boxing Day. Why did I not make it to post anything yesterday? I was the slightest bit incapacitated, from vomiting, opening presents, more vomiting, and a six-hour nap, interrupted by strange, incoherent dreams that shouldn't mean anything. And then I woke up and watched Empire Records, and felt a lot better. Hmmmm. I'm realising how much nicer my blog looks on a Mac than it does on a PC. It's the same version of Firefox, I think. But the PC is sharper, the type is more defined. The Mac's image flows. I suppose it doesn't matter just as long as you can read it, and understand what it's about. And if not that, then think of it as something nice to look at. When I posted on Thursday, I was thinking about closing down the Diaryland site. And I realised how much of a waste that would be. I've put so much time & energy into this little dude, and I shouldn't just kill him off because it's the new decade. And I want to have a blog that lives for at least a year. So, I'm not leaving Diaryland anytime soon, no matter the comment box issues, sidebar formatting fuck-ups, or overt use of the word "fucknuggets." I indulged deeply in narcissism on Thursday. Why? One of the subscriptions I have on YouTube, called "livelavalive" (which I HIGHLY recommend taking a look at sometime, it's pretty trippy) posted a video with one of the two people behind the channel looking into their camera and making faces. And they were simply titled with the name of the subject of the video. And they invited their viewers to make ones of their own faces. So I looked at the webcam and made faces and smiled and fussed with my hair for about three minutes. Then I edited it and put a little song in the background. Its entire runtime is 1:27. Might be something for a rainy day. Or maybe that's too personal for someone reading my blog to look at. And too introverted for me to put it up on my own blog. Eh, whatever. We went to an art gallery today, which was showing the finalists of the Outwin Boochever Portrait Competition entries. Some of them were just fantastic. I thought one of them was particularly amazing. It's called "Psychoanalyst One (Tony)." It's a pen-and-ink drawing on paper. The artist's name is Samantha Dylan Mitchell. I couldn't take my eyes off this piece of art. There was so much to it. It was made up of tiny little pieces of textures and lines of life, all formed together to recreate the face of a man. It's simple at the first glance, but if you keep looking, you'll find things you never would've thought were there before. (Then again, this was a Smithsonian, so if I'd gotten too close, I'd have gotten kicked out rather quickly.) It's just the depth in simplicity, really. I highly recommend looking it up. Anyway. That's about all I have to offer in the world of art & culture. Imma put the champagne glasses and slinky heroin-chic women back in my frou-frou closet now. Is it better to have something be simple at first glance, and find out that there's so much to it later on, or to see something as convoluted and confusing, and later realise that it's not as hard to comprehend as it looks? Think about it, nothing else in the world but one another. 4:54 p.m. - Thursday, Dec. 24th, 2009 I think it's kind of sad how I've been on the computer virtually all day- since 10 AM, at least- and I'm waiting to post an entry NOW. Why am I procrastinating on my blog? I always feel better writing, and when I'm finished I like the feeling of accomplishment. And of course, self-involvement and narcissism. But why have I been procrastinating? I guess my judgment and conceptual understanding of things has been jarred from all the Sudafed and things I've been taking to shake this godawful cold of mine. Which is starting to work, thankfully. But it's still Christmas Eve, and all I can smell is Vicks. Oh well. Why am I so surprised? I always get sick on Christmas. Always. It's the one thing I can count on, every year. That, and an orange in my stocking. Which is a Swedish tradition, if I'm not mistaken. Regardless, I always get sick on Christmas, and I suppose this is the year that I actually took action against it. Or maybe not. Maybe I'm gonna sit around and not take the med's and be like "Sigh, I can't wait for January." I'm actually pretty excited for 2010. It should be awesome. There might be some drastic changes going on- I'm kind of tired of how things are going down where I am. And I'm gonna be in a different place in the new year, so why not shake things up a bit? It won't be too awful. Probably just a major haircut, or I'll tear all the posters and shit off my walls and paint 'em red. Which would be interesting. [Never gonna happen by the way. Haha. I spent so much time fussing over the placement of my Scotch tape cornered-CD spreads and John Krasinski printouts.] Fuck it. I keep procrastinating. Why am I doing this? Grrr. I might switch hosts for the new year. Or do something exciting. Like adding new colours. Even though I really like these. But change is in the air, no matter how good it smells. Or tastes, or... whatever. I've had enough of wasting time doing something I don't want to do to begin with, and continuing with it because I feel guilty for not doing it is making me even more guilty and sad and pissed off. (yes. All at the same time.) So I figure I'll just knock it off and post something for Christmas tomorrow. I love you! Think about it, the ashtray said, you were up all night 10:25 p.m. - Tuesday, Dec. 22, 2009 I actually was up for most of last night, to be honest. Despite my being sick, I didn't fall asleep until three or so in the morning. Why? That's a reason I'm not about to disclose to such distant individuals such as my readers. (Of which there are, like, three.) But still. I'm trying to keep this one vague. Maybe it'll work. Or maybe somewhere within the intricately weaved threads of this massive quilt I'm about to sew, there'll be a little slip-up, and you'll fall through and realise what I'm talking about. Let's travel into the world of metaphors. I'm facing a hall full of little doorways. Most of them are made of wood and screws. There are three that stand out more than the others, made of different material, but the others exist and shouldn't be forgotten. These three are similar, but different in their own ways. One is silver, decorated with metal curlicues, new and different in every way. Another is made of the same material as the other, normal doors, but has something glinting within its doorway that I can't quite see. And the last one is both big and small at the same time, it's made of the past and the present put together to form the future. There's quite a big part of me that tells me to stand back from the wall and let all the doors stay open, letting time and air flow through them, waiting for certain ones to close and other ones to open up more. There's another big part of me that wants to be confident to close all the doors except for one. I just don't know which one to open, and which one to close. I also don't know which ones will dissolve back into the wall when I can't see them, because I've gone through only one door. I don't know if I should risk the view of other people and go through every door possible in the time I'm given. Maybe I should just close all the doors and look away from the wall for awhile. Maybe... I'm too tired... and overthinking things again. Don't dwell on it too much, ehm, richard higgins, ehm. 12:46 p.m. - Monday, Dec. 21, 2009 To the manliest of manly men in the existence of Man. [I'm only using your name because there are undoubtedly other Richard Higginses on the web.] Um... yeah. I have nothing to say. Except that... hmm. How to NOT make my blog socially awkward. I'll just say "rawr" and get on with the entry then. Rawr. Here we go. The snow is proving to hold up well. We have school off today. Which is fantastic, except for the fact that aforementioned "manly man" decided to go and get me sick. Now when I talk, I sound like a badly done combination of Bob Dylan, William Alexander and Meatwad from Aqua Teen Hunger Force. And I'm not even going to start on what my Russian accent sounds like. So thank you. No news on school being canceled tomorrow. I seriously doubt they will, or if they do, then we will still have class on Wednesday. Maybe we'll get lucky like the kids in Carroll County (and most of Virginia) and get the entire week off. Which would be dismal, because I'm home drinking tea and watching the snow slowly melt. Christmas is in less than 5 days, and I have to say, I'm pretty excited. It just doesn't register as Christmas season yet. It actually feels more like January. Hmm. Maybe it has to do with the two to three feet of snow in my front yard at the moment. Or the fact that I never do well at getting into ANY holiday spirit. Except that of my birthday. Which is kind of sad and narcissistic, but hell, I'm fourteen. Still looking forward to seeing the family though. Anywho. Now I'm off to move furniture in order to put the Christmas tree- which we just got yesterday, yes I know it's late- up in our living room. So that my dad can putter around doing Christmas lights tonight. Loverly. Be safe, wash your hands, have fun, don't die. Think about it, walking in a winter wonderland 10:43 p.m. - Saturday, Dec. 19, 2009 Oh, come on. I had to. If you're living on the East Coast, you know what I'm talking about. We got a good twenty inches of snow here. It was literally piled up on our back patio. You could see it piled up through the glass. It was like a foot tall. And I made a big ol' snow angel for Shannon Hoon. Another Hoon's Angel. (Photos of which I will enlighten you later.) I just thought I'd let you know that snow is snow, regardless of circumstances. Whatever's going on in your life, be it school, friends, relationships, family, whatever: It's not going to affect the fact that it snows. And when it does snow, regardless of circumstances, you should embrace that fact. That is, if you're living in an area that's normally drowned out by constant, monotonous rainfall. Think about it, just thought i'd throw something in 7:21 a.m. - Friday, Dec. 18, 2009 Just for posterity. I don't want to give that to someone who's going to throw it away once they're done with it. I don't think that's fair, personally, and I don't think if you were in my position, you would either. So how 'bout we don't and say we did. Alright? Thanks forever. Don't think about it, (after all it is 7:30 in the morning) alas my love, you do me wrong to cast me off discourteously 9:25 p.m. - Thursday, Dec. 17, 2009 Now my head is swimming with images of people from school in Victorian-era dress, drinking champagne and saying "quite" too much. Also I keep forgetting my password for my diaryland account. I wonder why that may be. Probably because even though I do trust- and am thankful for the help of- my friend who tried to help me work on my blog (when I say this, I mean I gave him my password and said "I need a hand"), I'm not letting him have FULL access. That's a mistake I don't make twice. -insert awkward hand heart thing here.- You're probably wondering WHY I quote Greensleeves in the title. That's because I had to perform the piece at the winter concert, which was tonight. And in comparison to last year's winter concert, which was... not something to commemorate... it was fantastic. Of course there is a slight bias because I'm IN the orchestra. But we were alright. The symphonic bands and orchestras were impressive. Also, to prove the suspicions of the people running my Facebook advertisements: No, Facebook. I am not a werewolf. That's about enough whining for one night, I think. Be safe, don't die, and listen to some classical music sometime. It's good for the soul. Or at least, souls of Japanese babies. (More on that later.) Think about it, a tiny post to try and make up for last night's failure 8:52 a.m. - Thursday, Dec. 17, 2009 Yeah. I wanted to apologise for last night. I couldn't find any time to post a decent entry and so I just made up random shit and assembled it into a somewhat aesthetically-pleasing paragraph or two. I don't exactly know how to make up for it now. I'm in English class and we're in the computer lab for about ten more minutes. Make that six. Or maybe we'll stay for the extra five minutes before the bell rings. I don't know. I don't run the class. If I did, I have a feeling it would be under even less control than it is now, with two teachers who have a slight handle on things and twenty-plus students with their own social agendas. Multiply that by second period (x) and you have the algebra equation that is my failed school life. Oh, I'm so poetic in the mornings. There's about a week left til Christmas, and I figure I should explain the Rex Manning Day concept that I mentioned and forgot to elaborate upon. Rex Manning Day is a reference to the 1995 movie Empire Records, starring Liv Tyler and Renee Zellweger. Rex Manning is the equivalent to Joe Jonas, or maybe Kanye West, of teenage girls in the movie. And so when he comes to the record store that Liv and Renee work at- called Empire Records, a small, privately-owned record store in New York, everyone goes apeshit. The movie is revolved around the events of one entire day, and that day is called Rex Manning Day. And since it is tradition for me to watch that movie on Christmas, I call Christmas Rex Manning Day. And there are about three people that get the joke. Maybe it's the three people that really matter. Or not. Well I'm off to go spend time in a class I despise with about 84% of my conscious heart. And there is some kind of ska playing on the radio; enjoy it while it lasts. Think about it, hoonlives95 i'm just chillin'... like bob dylan. 6:20 p.m. - Wednesday, Dec. 16, 2009 I actually shouldn't say that. Even though it's quoting the best band in the world, I really don't like Bob Dylan. It comes down to what a friend of mine said: "I just don't like listening to whining." And Bob Dylan sounds like a drunk church mouse. I'm sorry, but he does. His lyrics are fantastic, I appreciate his lyrics. I just don't want to listen to him. And yet I listen to Tom Waits. Hmmmm. I smell hypocrisy. I realise how stupid I look walking down the median of Colesville road on the way home. I realise that I look even more stupid when I have blue paint splattered across the seat of my pants, walking aimlessly down the median strip singing "Fly" by Sugar Ray at the top of my lungs. i don't want to talk to you anymore; i'm afraid of what i might say 3:58 p.m. - Tuesday, Dec. 15, 2009 I'm trying to decide again. It's not an easy decision. Then again, I don't think I get many of those. So, it's just a decision like any other. I don't want to forget about it. Because it was awesome while it lasted, and I was alright with it ending. But I want to put it behind me, because of how much it hurts that it's over. So I'm stuck between living in the present and forgetting about the good things I left behind and waiting for better things, or looking back and wallowing in the nice memories I had and realising how shitty my situation is now. I seriously thought I saw John Krasinski today. I was walking into the building. And the first thing I thought was, "he's taller than that." But I caught his attention, and got a better look at his face. It wasn't John Krasinski. Oh well. I don't know what to say or think anymore. It's all confusing and bitter and not fun. I don't know. It's just that I want to look forward and let everything go, just let it slip away. I did that before, and the reason I can't do it now is because I really enjoyed what I had. And I can't hear certain things or look at certain things without remembering what I had, and what I loved, and what I still love but don't have anymore. Sigh. I suppose it's only teenage wasteland. I was at the dentist today and the assistant said something about writing "12/15" as the date. And how scary it was that Christmas was this close; how fast time passes. And I'm like "whoa, really?" I agree. I just realised that Christmas was really only ten days away. And that kind of scared me, I guess. It's that I still think it's October or September. I told my friend it was August-something the other day, and that REALLY scared me. Oh well. Think about it, post-party de-something or other 11:32 a.m. - Sunday, Dec. 13, 2009 I have a now unhealthy habit of responding "your mother" to any question asked, rhetorical or not. So that then the conversation may delve into another territory. Some days I just want to say "fuck grammar" and type with no caps. But I won't, because I'm already screwing grammar enough. "And" and "But" aren't supposed to begin sentences. And I have- see!- I have a tendency to use run-on sentences, or fragments. Oh well. Sigh. There is a particularly annoying something on my face that every teenager knows about, which I am sorry for but am not enjoying one bit. It's cause I forgot to shower last night. Why? I was at a BITCHIN' birthday party. With some of the most fantastic people I know. And so it was pretty awesome. Except for the fact that for about five minutes, I didn't have a ride home. Or at least, a safe one. But I got one... apparently. Actually no, I'm still sitting in the rec' center, typing on some old computer I found in the... never mind, sarcasm doesn't translate well over my blog. Sigh. I am not digging how it was SNOWING a week ago, and now it's raining. I mean, nature needs to buck up and make some decisions. If it's gonna be cold, and there's gonna be precipitation, THEN LET'S HAVE SOME SNOW, PLEASE AND THANK YOU. But that was a fluke, I guess. It's not supposed to snow in December. And that snow day was really nice. But the events that took place on said snow day will probably never happen again, which is fine. I just look back on it and think, "was that really just a week ago?" I don't know. Life is confusing sometimes. So I "favourite" ONE foreign band on Facebook, of which I like ONE song, and I get invites to concerts in bars in Russia and Germany and other parts of Europe. I'm like "come on. Really?" It'd be kind of cool to go to one of their shows. To see what else they play. But I mean, Russia. I don't have that kind of money. There's also a rather embarrassing video of me on Facebook... yeah, you probably are going to go check it out now... fantastic. You don't have to... it's really weird. That's what happens when people kick me and things. I'm just like "noooo!" And that's about where it ends. Think about it, a kiss to send us off 3:26 p.m. - Friday, Dec. 11, 2009 (Yes, I am quoting Incubus. I figure I can do this once a month without sounding too poetic.) We crossed the somehow dead street, normally bearing cars and other road warriors. But today it was clear, for us to cross and make it to the other side. He found himself saying goodbye, even though I didn't want him to. There were other things I didn't want him to do, and things I wish he still wouldn't. I didn't want the final episode to be at the bus stop with the massive building directly behind us. I didn't want him to have gotten a drink. I didn't want him to have said what he said. But that was in the past, and this is now. And there we were. And he told me that it was goodbye, and he pulled me close. My head buried in his chest, arms looping underneath his, my hands somehow finding their way to meet each other. I felt the scratched surface of my pin on his bag. He tenderly but quickly pressed his lips on the side of my head a few times. He couldn't see, but I furrowed my brow. We breathed. I heard him apologise. I didn't say anything. I slowly pulled back, he was already there to meet me. And he did, glancing into my eyes once before I let mine close. A tiny breath escaped his lips, onto mine. We knew. And we were together. As soon as we connected, I felt a sudden, extreme awareness of the people waiting at the bus stop. I contemplated their reaction for a split second before losing myself. He was so deft, so quick, but at the same time slow and perfect. I pushed him forward a tiny bit, he followed the flow. Then he took me back down. There seemed to be a massive space between us, even though we were as close as could possibly be. I sensed him making an entrance between my lips. I bit his tongue. He released slowly, coming back out to look me in the eyes. He apologised again, and kissed my forehead. I pressed myself against his chest, telling him it wasn't anyone's fault, wanting so much to be able to lean on him. But I couldn't, and I knew that. I told him that I wasn't making any promises. A miniature pause followed. But that he should let me know. He curled his arms tighter still. It was goodbye, after all. As these two people, at least. Next week we would come back as completely individual beings- no bonds, no extraneous clouds covering us. And so we let go. He headed down the parking lot in the opposite direction. I remembered what I'd really come for. Shit. I crossed the parking lot, getting his attention. I told him I'd forgotten the pin- my pin- on his backpack. He told me to go for it. I held the pin, the symbolic idol, in my hand. Then I looked at him. I told him that he might get it back one day. He winked at me and turned around and walked inside. I turned around, the fresh air stinging my cheeks. The sky, the shade of things to come, expanded before me. And the sky met the horizon, suburbs and city forming into the road before me. And then I tore down the road, running as fast as I possibly could. ((Interpret that one however you want- I didn't say it was true, but I didn't say it wasn't.)) Don't think too much about it, procrastination is key 6:16 p.m. - Wednesday, Dec. 09, 2009 I haven't posted anything for awhile. At least, it seems like awhile. Did I even write anything on Monday? Maybe. I can't check from the 'new entry' screen. It matters not. And nothing seems to matter anymore. I suppose it's just a great big green punchbowl of life. It is FINALLY the holiday season. Why? Because Macy's started putting their commercials on TV? Because everyone has their Christmas lists made out already? Because Chick-Fil-A is having supersales? No, I'm sorry. It's because I finally saw the YouTube clip of Aimee Mann's Christmas show last year in Los Angeles, in which John Krasinski made a surprise appearance and sang my very favourite Christmas-y song: "Winter Wonderland." It made my day. I applauded a computer screen. I never applaud computer screens except for episodes of the Office and that video. Having said that, I'm looking at a new Eggsmas present: http://store.cottonfactory.com/cf-941.html# Anyone willing to hook me up. I will love you forever. I walked home today with my umbrella. It's a bad idea to have that open whilst walking down Colesville road (walking opposite the cars, by the way) while it is windy outside. My umbrella actually turned itself inside out, and I think I lost another one of the spikes. Oh well. The Red Sox management is finally coming around. We're not focusing on Jason Bay as much anymore- thank you for manning up to that. If he wants to be a Mariner, let the meatwad be a Mariner. We also didn't put Pedroia on shortstop, which I'm thankful for. Who thought THAT one up? An article on the topic states very clearly: "He is just far better off as a second baseman than he is as a shortstop. So are the Red Sox. And they all know it." There. That's my Sox-obsessive baseball rant of the day. Maybe I should do that instead of posting CNN titles that make me angry. Maybe. Walk down the wrong side of the road with a giant umbrella in your arms sometime- you never know, it might be fun. Think about it, it's weird. 8:22 p.m. - Sunday, Dec. 06, 2009 Please no that's-what-she-said jokes. Not a good time. I mean, it's not a bad thing. I'm glad he's deciding to up and go. I mean, I don't want to sound rude, but it's really about time that he did this. It's just kind of strange to know that he's not going to be sleeping in this house tonight, because he's found a different house to sleep in. And I know I've been talking about how he needs to go, it's time for him to leave, I want him out of the house. But then I think about how sharp and jagged everything is at home when he isn't home for dinner. And I guess that's not my fault, but it still feels shitty sometimes to know that they're only going to be there for a little while longer. I don't know. It's just not the normal feeling of "he's-not-coming-home-tonight." It's for a different reason. But it's okay, because that's what he wants, and that's what my parents want, and that's what I want. I don't know why it's bothering me like it is. It's certainly time for him to go. Then again. This is the person who cried over MY breaking up with my ex. It's so weird to write that word. Ex. It connects to so many other meanings than its original definition. So maybe I shouldn't call him that. Prefixes are for gossips. Back to the topic at hand. Here's the one point in which I let myself be lyrical and flimsy and fruity: It feels kind of like settling down to sleep, and you find out that something's not quite right, so you can't fall asleep. Then you find out that it's fixed, and you try to go back to sleep, but you can't, and you don't know why. I don't know anymore. Don't worry; it doesn't pertain to you. Think about it, holy shit. 8:42 p.m. - Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 So I just found a recording of a Dave Matthews Band cover of "No Rain." But it really does sound like Shannon Hoon. Maybe it's Travis. I don't know. But it's fantastic, whatever it is. It's on a website called "grooveshark," I don't know if you all have heard of it. You know. All three of you that read my blog. Now it's a live recording of "Soup" at Woodstock 1994. Shannon, you fucking genius. Why'd you have to die so soon? The snow day proved to be very interesting. I look back on it and I realise that I've had a very Ellen Page day. Not only Juno, but Whip It as well. Not to say that I went rollerskating down my street in the snow- that'd be a bad idea. But I did go swimming. Outdoors. In the snow. Which I thought was fantastic, for reasons I will not enlighten you with. Maybe it'll freeze over and we can miss school on Monday. But I wouldn't like that. School is pretty good nowadays. I'm actually getting work done, and having fun with lots of different people. And that's always good, right? I mean it's all about having fun. And three... is a magic number. Think about it, first snow of december 10:25 a.m. - Saturday, Dec. 05, 2009 So every year, my family goes to the same person's St. Nicholas party. And last year, it started snowing during the daytime, and continued during the evening. And now... oh lordy me. Also I think this may or may not be karma for my second best week ever. (Not second-best. The second WEEK. So it was still the best, only it came after the first one.) But this time, I'm not going to tell you why it was the second best week ever. Because it's personal, and anyone can see this blog, and if I tell you then I have a feeling it will all unravel. But now I have something nice for my mind to float away to. Something that actually happened. The snow isn't sticking. Which I guess is alright, just kind of sad. I mean it's really nice to watch, but you can't look out of a giant picture window and see snowfall and not go, "Aww, it's not sticking." But it didn't stick last year, and hell, it's only December. Why am I complaining again? It's kind of sad that my mom woke me up this morning, wondering if I wanted to go to some cafe, and my first thought was "Uh, isn't today a school day? Oh. Wow." So I needed a little more sleep, in which I had a fantastic dream about me being Hancock. Oh, Hancock. I'm sorry. I just wasted a good five minutes staring at the snow. It's because it was snowing outside on the day I was born, I think. Or maybe just that it's so pretty to look at. Think about it, damn it feels good to be a gangsta. 5:50 p.m. - Wednesday, Dec. 02, 2009 It doesn't count as slanderous or vulgar because I didn't quote the rest of the song. Walking home in the rain proves to be more calming than I thought it would. I kept feeling like I was lonely, and then I remembered that I wasn't. And that's a really good feeling. Cause I have friends and family and those in between to keep me company, and I'm never gonna lose them. That's really cool. A lot of people think I'm special and unique because I have a blog that I write in everyday [or at least try to write in everyday.] I don't see it as much of an accomplishment. It's either when I'm bored and have nothing better to do, or when something eventful has happened that I want to tell the world about. I spent a good deal of time daydreaming today. I think I can let myself do that- I've been working hard for a long time, and everyone deserves a little break now and again. So a slight shoegazing nap with warm thoughts of warmer arms shouldn't hurt anyone. I really hate how teachers and administrators and security guards tend to single me out when I'm doing something wrong. Like I'm the only one in the crowd of people wearing a hat, or the only one in the classroom with my head down, or the only kid with their headphones on. And I don't understand how Morpheus- the massive pair of black headphones I love with most of my heart- can be against the rules when it's not even plugged into my iPod, or when a handful of other kids are running around blasting T.I. on theirs in the hallways. Emphatic sigh, digression, and moving on. I actually changed my sheets today. Whoop-de-doo. One step closer to an organised room, I suppose. ...haha. I crack myself up sometimes. I had a nasty cold for a couple of days, and then I got some cold pills. So it's all better. I guess. I don't know; I'm not sneezing or coughing that much anymore. So that's good. I guess. I'm still tired... then again, when am I NOT tired? A bunch of my friends have been taking cameras to school, and have ended up with fantastic photo albums. I figure if I take mine to school, and be slightly artsy about it, I can get some decent shots. If I'm lucky. Hee hee. Think about it, pickin up sound on the interstate... 9:05 p.m. - Tuesday, Dec. 01, 2009 I wish they had a better version of "(They Long To Be) Close To You" by the Carpenters. Because I can't find a decent one on iTunes. I'll have to settle with my Blind Pilot for now. Anyway. What is it that I write about again? Oh, my day. Well. Today was probably one of the better Tuesdays I've had in a very long time. Because Tuesdays are normally shitty. And for once, I didn't have to make it a nice day for myself. All I did was wake up and go, "Today's gonna be a good day." Jesus Christ, there are 81 people on Facebook right now. Isn't that the slightest bit scary? Wow. Okay, now it's down to 74. But still. That's insane. Why do I have so many friends again? Haha. I keep looking at myself in the mirror and going "There's no way you can pull this off." But if I turn out the lights, no one can see my little flaws. They kind of hover around me; if you catch one you'll never catch it again. They're tiny and yellow and elusive. I've been reading too much Kurt Vonnegut in the past twelve hours than is good for me, probably. "Today was a day for vapor trails." Think about it, i never worry, now that is a lie. 4:07 p.m. - Monday, Nov. 30, 2009 I'm not sure that I understand why he contradicts himself in his own song. Maybe we all do subconsciously. Sorry about that. I've been weird all day... just kind of floaty and dreamy. Like I didn't wake up. Maybe I just need a hot shower and more sleep. Maybe not. Tomorrow is Equality Day. So deck yourself out in rainbows and sign a big ol' pink triangle tomorrow. I'll be the one running around in the dorky rainbow-knit hat and doing errands for everyone. Which is coincidentally what I'm good at. I just noticed how he has a goatee in one of the photos on the cover of Blood Sugar Sex Magik, but in the other three he is clean-shaven. And after more painful head-turning, I realised that they're four separate men. Yeah. I need to take a nap. Think about it, believe me when i tell you, i'll never do you no harm. 9:44 p.m. - Sunday, Nov. 29, 2009 Oh, darling. When I look back on today, it's a lot more busy than it felt. I went over to a friend's house today and played one of the nerdiest games on the planet earth, save Magic or World of Warcraft. It was called Mag-Blast and reminded me of Futurama combined with video games I played when I was little. I ended up winning the second game, and we went to go get Chipotle. Then I went over to another friend's house and taught her how to play a few chords on guitar, and the guitar solo in "Here Comes the Sun." Then we rearranged her room whilst screaming at each other in various European accents. [I have a killer Russian accent.] I'm excited for December to get here. Then I won't feel too guilty about all the Christmas ads and songs running through the media. I really hate Jingle Bells. Everyone does, subconsciously, I think. November's been interesting. But it's time for a change. And with change comes cold weather. Think about it, "people change, ron." 11:52 p.m. - Saturday, Nov. 28, 2009 It's kind of sad that the way I was raised causes me to think of Mrs. Doubtfire quotes from the simplest of phrases. Like "People change." But I can't hear that and not think of Pierce Brosnan saying "People change, Ron." I didn't think I'd be this tired now. I thought I'd be over it. I wasn't tired all day, except for once in the car. And now I'm... wiped. But that's alright. If I can fall asleep at midnight, get up at six thirty, and not feel tired for another 18 hours, hell, I'd call that an accomplishment. Maybe even a talent. The ride home wasn't as long as I thought it'd be. We only got stuck in traffic a couple of times. Thankfully. No one likes traffic, but if you were in the position I was in, then you'd hate it even more. Am being shooed off the computer. You don't have to change. Think about it, sunrise 8:32 a.m. - Saturday, Nov. 28, 2009 No it's not sunrise right now. But I woke up at around 6:30 in the morning and went "Good God, what's outside the window? Holy shit it's the sun." Everything was red. And I couldn't go back to sleep. So the only thing I thought to do was to put on a pair of jeans, grab my iPod and sweatshirt and go out onto the beach. I was thinking it'd already come up, that I'd missed it, when I noticed something tiny and pink on the horizon. Then it was orange, and suddenly the sun was peaking over the horizon. Nothing as beautiful as that. One last look at the ocean, at least. I'm definitely coming down with something iffy. I don't like being sick. I like getting out and doing stuff. Not staying at home with Full House and Kleenex. The Office, however... I seriously stayed up for 4 extra hours watching episodes of the Office when I realised that season 5 was online on Netflix. God, I love Netflix. Everyone is in the packing-up mode right now. Which could take a very long time, but at least it's in progress. It sounds like I'm not gonna get a chance to get in the ocean this trip. That's alright. If my feet get numb from just walking on the beach, I don't want to think of how the rest of my body would be in the ocean. Oh well. I'll wait for summer. Which is only another half a year away. Isn't that insane? It's already winter. The solstice hasn't come yet, but the cold's been here. It's like an annoying kid who comes like an hour early for class. Oh wait. That's me. Sigh. Those who live near the ocean should be thankful that it's always there, and they don't have to drive out here to get to it. About to break the wishbone from the turkey. Love to everyone- watch the sun rise sometime. Think about it, lets all be thankful 9:34 p.m. - Thursday, Nov. 26, 2009 How about everyone who was able to have a nice Thanksgiving dinner tonight just take that fact in? That you can actually eat, and not only eat but eat substantially more than you normally do. And how about everyone who was able to have this dinner with their family and friends tonight be thankful too? And that you're not on the streets or in another country? Or that you have people who love you and take care of you, and will do so no matter what? Not to say that I don't. I'm so fortunate to have what I do. I'm not complaining. Believe me. I just don't think it's right now some people will complain about what they have. I dunno, it just kind of gets me upset. I'm really thankful that I'm not the same person I was last Thanksgiving. I actually have an old blog post that I did last year. I might put it in tomorrow for kicks; tonight's post will be kind of lax on interesting things. So let's all take in the cranberry sauce 'n stuffing that people work hard to make. Because if you complain about it, and you think you don't want it, you'll realise you don't have it and be even more upset. Think about it, the way to describe erratic music taste 10:10 a.m. - Wednesday, Nov. 25, 2009 I was stuck when someone yesterday asked me what kind of music I listened to. I didn't quite know what to say; I listen to just about everything you can think of. Literally. I need 2 iPods to keep track of it all, and it ranges from new-age indie shit to the Beatles, to comedy albums, to heavy metal, to good ol' rock 'n roll, to gangsta rap, to electro-pop, to really weird shit like "The Unbearable Lightness of Farm Tractors." [Not worth YouTubing- it's a bitch when it gets stuck in your head.] So I was kind of at an impasse when my friend asked me what kind of music I listen to. I told him "Eh, just about anything really. Have you heard of The Strokes?" I think that covered it pretty well. The Obamas hosted a dinner of some sort recently. I feel sad that I don't know what that means. As John Mulaney said, "The NASDAQ is down again, and I have to tell you... It feels really bad... to NOT know what that means." Dinosaur- or, in my own choice of spelling, Dinosawr- Week is going well. None of my friends understand. But mark my words, in six to twelve years, when the 22-28th of November [holy shit, I almost wrote August. Is it really November?] falls on a Sun-Sat week, the dinosawrs will come back. And Shannon Hoon will ride a brontosaurus and sing "No Meteors." Oh the daydreams of a sleep-deprived ellie. I had a dream that a bunch of friends and I were flying overseas, possibly to France. We had to crawl through this weird tunnel thing. It reminded me of this one weird tunnel at some museum in Baltimore that scared the shit out of me. It was tiny, I was convinced I wouldn't fit. Just like the one in the dream. So after like five feet I went "wait a second," crawled backwards, and then hit my head on the cover when I tried to go back through. Then I was talking about a different friend to another friend, and then I was talking to yet ANOTHER friend in history class, and then I was with a completely different group of friends on the school swim team. I need to get more sleep. And maybe start mentioning names but not characteristics. I know about a million Sam's. Think about it, self-proclaimed dinosaur week 5:19 p.m. - Tuesday, Nov. 24, 2009 So you know how the Discovery Channel has Shark Week? Well this is Dinosaur Week. And I'm sad to say I won't be in class tomorrow to spread the word. But whoever reads the blog has to make sure that we give thanks for the dinosaurs on Thursday. Because without them where would we be? Dead, or cows. Maybe both. Dead cows... New diary text colours. I got bored with red and black... I felt too much like Mic Jagger. So I spoke with my friend today, who was upset with me because I forgot to mention her birthday when it took place. She was also unhappy that I did not mention the scarring-mental and physical-that took place at said party. So I will now proceed to tell the story of- as she so lovingly puts it, "what happens when the redcoats attack." I go to this party, and it's three other people, my friend and I, and it's my friend's birthday. So we decided to play "when the redcoats attack," which means we sit on opposite sides of her driveway and launch rocks at the "redcoats" who are coming down the driveway. This ended up turning into the hurl-rocks-at-Ellie game, and one of the party-goers, if you will, launched a particularly sharp one at me. It caught the place RIGHT above my eye, where my eyebrow ends on the right side of my head. And we were all laughing and having a great time, because hey, it was pretty funny. And it didn't hurt until my friend noticed it was bleeding. So now I'm freaking out-no way in hell I'm missing this party because someone threw a rock at me- and we all rush inside to tell her parents. (Because of course they hadn't noticed this at all.) And I'm going "oh-my-God," and my friends are going "oh-my-God," and then her parents start going "oh-my-God," and while everyone's OMG-ing I start cleaning myself up. Before the actual wound wore out, it was called my battle wound. And now it is my battlescar. And I'm waiting for the person who will ask about it, to which I will respond "That? Oh. 'That's just my battlescar,'" in the style of Third Eye Blind's Wounded [YouTube magic, my friends], to which they will respond the lyrics that follow. My friend tells me it's a nice fantasy. I keep telling myself it's okay to get on Facebook. And then I go "No, it's only been two days. You can do it." Isn't that sad? Isn't it also sad that a friend of mine gets TIRED of saying "hahaha" while texting, and instead uses "lol?" Is it really such a strenuous activity to tap your thumbs? I'm not chastising him, I just think it's kind of sad to be lazy and type "lol" while being lazy to begin with. Then again, this is total hypocrisy, because I text more than I talk. But I have a blog, so there. I was walking home today, and I started to realise that once things get boring, you start hating them. Like going to class, or eating at Jerry's everyday, or walking home, in this instance. So I decided to "spice it up," if you will, and walked on the median strip for awhile. Now I know, it's dangerous and all. But I have some of the best coordination in my family. Believe me, I have fantastic hand-eye coordination. And hey, it was fun. And I didn't fall over and get hit by a car. Not today, at least. Think about it, i have developed a respect for john mulaney 4:14 p.m. - Monday, Nov. 23, 2009 "I'm not going to rape you! I'm a little boy." He's so fuuunny. In any event, I'm not digging this rain. It wasn't supposed to rain. In fact it was supposed to stop raining. But I guess you get what you give in this town. Is anyone else scared of the Verizon Droid ads? It sounds like the evil robot autopilot in WALL-E. I don't want to call someone on that phone if my phone is gonna hang up INTENTIONALLY in the middle of a call. The only "Smart phone" I like, and would consider buying, is the Blackberry Storm because John Krasinski narrated their commercials. And maybe if I bought the Blackberry Storm then he'd be inside the box. I'm taking that one-week hiatus from Facebook that my friend is doing. It could be interesting. I keep sitting here at the computer, trying desperately to procrastinate. And I'm like, "I have nothing to do now." Is that sad? Maybe I should just sleep. Right when you think you know someone, they turn around and transform into someone else. Think about it, [[Humour me, copy and paste: http://comedians.comedycentral.com/john-mulaney/videos/john-mulaney---subway-station-chase]] interesting morning (narcissism at its best) 8:42 a.m. - Tuesday, Nov. 17, 2009 I woke up a bit faster than usual. I got coffee and changed clothes. Then after all of this, and after biking my ass off to school, I realised halfway to class that my shirt was inside out. And that no one noticed. I'm lucky for that, I guess. I don't know why putting my shirt on right eluded me. I just didn't get enough sleep, probably. That would also justify how I forgot to steer the right way, and biked into the bushes in front of the school's parking lot. For everyone to see. Like a dumbass. I'm in a computer lab for class, so my writing's gonna be kind of patchy. Playing with the cuffs on this shirt proves to be a lot of fun. Also I realised that when I wear my friend's glasses I resemble Sarah Palin so strongly it scared the shit out of me. No, I cannot see Russia from my house. Thank you for asking. You know, I nearly supported her. I was about ready to stand up for her and go, "Hey, can we all stop making fun of Sarah Palin?" And then I saw the vice presidential debate, live on CNN with Gwen Ifill. That poor woman. She's truly my hero for that, if not for everything else she's done. But to tolerate the governor of the Union's largest state go "I can see Russia from my house" is something truly admirable. Oh, Sarah Palin. I sneezed. How arbitrary. Actually, that's a lie. I haven't sneezed yet. But I feel one coming on. Wait for it...
My phone is truly a piece of shit. Did I tell you this? Literally. It belongs in the toilet. It's that crappy. It will turn of randomly and without warning. And whenever it feels so inclined to actually function as a phone should, I get my texts late and miss my alarm. And then it turns off again. But I'm not complaining or anything. Just remarking on the state of my phone. Maybe I'll get a new one for Eggsmas. Oh, excuse me- Rex Manning Day. [Will elaborate more on RMD when I'm in a good position to do so, instead of sublimely tired and failing at life.] More tonight. Think about it, this is what happens when i get bored in science. 7:44 p.m. - Wednesday, Nov. 11, 2009 [Just thought I'd post something completely unrelated.] The grey blur of a train blocked the occupants of the station. The clouds were curtains draped over a magician's trick of a world. Birds flew slower, with less of a vocation. Black wings crossed weary skies in a monotone, eerie shift. The fact that they met before didn't matter, nor the fact that they'd meet again. What mattered was that they were meeting now, and that was all. [That's about it. shit. is it still only monday? 10:11 p.m. - Monday, Nov. 09, 2009 I HATE PANDORA RADIO ADS. I WANT TO CRUSH THEIR HEADS WITH MY KNEES. I'VE SEEN THE TRAILER FOR 'PIRATE RADIO' MILLIONS OF TIMES, I DON'T NEED TO SEE IT AGAIN WHEN IT GETS IN THE WAY OF MY BELLE & SEBASTIAN. Ah. Excuse me. No matter how much I think I know someone they always change in the end. Why is this? Is it me being subconsciously ignorant? Or them being fickle and strange? I'm probably just crazy. I'm also never going to be able to drive with full competence. I broke into crying on the Beltway when I saw a dead raccoon in the middle of the road. And the cars went speeding by, and its fur just moved with the wind. And then I saw his face, buried in the pavement. Sometimes, Hoon doesn't live. Think about it, ah, shit. 12:24 p.m. - Sunday, Nov. 08, 2009 So I completely forgot to post these past few days. Jesus. I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. In any event. Hi! How are you? That's all good. Let's see. What's been going on in the past few days? Well yesterday I went to the mall, and bought three pairs of jeans for under the price of one [at regular price]. And then we went to Bethesda- essentially, where the upper-crust Marylandites and politicians who are just under the Capitol Hill status live- and went to the Women's market and bought a fantastic warm winter hat. And then I went to the school play. And bought a rose for a Frenchman. That's my amazing Saturday. And people were really very nice to me yesterday! Whoever I said "hi" to said "hello" back. And then "How are you?" and then "I'm good, how are you?" And then "I'm good, thank you." It's like people learned how to communicate again. It made me really happy. There was this one group of women I noticed walking away from the Old Navy when I was in the mall. They were all at least under five feet. And what looked to be the mother was carrying this TINY baby- by tiny I mean it looked like it was a very early newborn-in her arms. And she was bouncing her up and down. And she just had this fantastic smile on her face. Like unicorns and puppies and kittens and rainbows and Christmas wrapped up into one. Just this amazing smile. And I went "Awwww!" She was ten months old. Sorry. I had to... another example of how the little things count. And on Friday there was the Northwood-Blair football game. And it was. FREEZING. Like really freezing. Like on a scale of one to ten it was freezing. And the fact that the metal bleachers were even colder was not helpful at all. But they sold $1 hot chocolates, of which I had like three. We actually ended up WINNING the game, which is surprising because Blair football is kind of... Well, we all know that we suck, so it's okay. And the only reason we won was because Northwood sucked more. So, woo-hoo. Today I'm going to be making some important decisions. And no I don't know what the outcome of them will be. But I've got a feeling it'll be interesting nonetheless. Think about it, 'sometime food' my ass. 7:28 p.m. - Wednesday, Nov. 04, 2009
For those of you who watched Sesame Street as a kid- please let there be at least ONE of you- this video is heart-wrenchingly sad. If I can say that. First of all, you don't want kids to eat the cookie; instead you're persuading them to eat SINGING FRUIT. I wouldn't feed my kids a pile of singing fruit if it were the last food on the planet. But hey, that's just me. Thank God I have a blog. I've decided today is National Reclaim-Your-Childhood Day. Or at least Sesame Street-video surfing day. On YouTube- links below- are Six Soccer Socks and the One-Two-Three-Four-Five song, AND the C is for Cookie song. Oh, the age of innocence. C is for cookie. That's good enough for me. In other news, Julian Casablancas' first solo album, Phrazes for the Young, came out this week. All you Strokes fans out there, this is the best and cheapest album of the year. It's techy without being electronic. Kind of like the Raveonettes... only it's J-Cas. <3 Anywhoop. I'm sorry I nearly quit on you guys yesterday. I promise it won't happen- not without me being serious. Haha. I love you guys, I couldn't leave you. Y'all are just too awesome for that. Think about it, Six Soccer Socks: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XwMXZOcpAoM screw this. i love you too much. 12:02 a.m. - Wednesday, Nov. 04, 2009 Nope. Not leaving. That really scared me for a minute, I don't know why. Ehm. Look down. Don't think, just look down, But I'll Keep Screamin' For That Glass of Lemonade. -Shannon Hoon 11:34 p.m. - Tuesday, Nov. 03, 2009 Yeah. I'm getting off Diaryland. This is my last post on this blog so I figure I'll make a nice fancy blowout of it. Hence the EPIC Blind Melon title. What to talk about. Well the concept of mortality of course. Everything and everyone will eventually die. Just like everyone poops. Everyone dies. Except Jesus Jones because he's amazing, but that's another story. Some things are destined for disaster. Others are meant to live for a very long time. Some things are cut short before their time is truly through. Others live for much longer than necessary. But life is important. It's a gift given to us by the people that really do love us most, even if they don't show it all the time. And I don't mean my-mommy-doesn't-love-me-because-she-will-only-buy-six-Abercrombie-jackets-instead-of-seven-like-I-wanted-and-everyone-else-in-the-universe-has-and-I-want-I-want-I-want-type neglect. I mean the kind of thing that happens everyday and is overlooked. The thing is we really are loved, at some point in our life, by some person. Some people will have more than one, some people will only have one. But it's the feeling of being loved, no matter quantity or quality, that counts. And that's what's really important, I guess. Not to say that every love is simple. Others are complex, twisted, convoluted to the point where the adjective in use is questioned. No one really knows. There's no true basis point. There are stories, and movies, and actors who portray the fantasies in a writer's imaginative head. But that's all in a book or a movie. You close the cover, you switch off the TV, it's over. There's no awkward after-scene in Aladdin. There's no "I wonder how they'll turn out" at the end of every romance flick. There's just the two people, and that's all that seems to matter. Sometimes that's how it should be, But not all of the time. Love isn't really between only two people. You couldn't survive with just one other person. How would you have met them? Or known where NOT to have gone on a first date? Or known how much really IS ludicrous for a wedding gown, a tuxedo rental, or anything? Without EVERYONE- yes, EVERYONE- else in the world, we'd be nowhere. Why? Because we're a dependent society- hell, a dependent species. No matter how much you say "Fuck the world, I want to be left alone," there is at least some part of you that, at least once in your lifetime, subconsciously reached out for human contact. Because we all love each other, deep down inside. And that's a little too much Lemonade. Think about it, P.S. New link will be up very soon. yeah, i've been waiting for my sunday girl. 4:52 p.m. - Sunday, Nov. 01, 2009 It's sad how no one knows what song that's from... Anyway. Hi! It's been a long time. Or I think it has, at least. A lot has gone on. I've met people and done exciting things. Friday was kind of earth-shattering. I spoke to so many people. It was just a busy day. Then Halloween seemed mellow and chill compared to Friday. It was kind of sad. I'd hoped it would be really wild and exciting. But most of it wasn't. Then I went to Sam's house and I put on a poofy dress and we went bonkers. Oh how I love my friends. Then today I went downtown with a bunch of 8th grade friends. We ate and I got over something I've needed to get over for a long time. I was able to look back at everywhere I went and be happy with what I did. [Is that discreet enough?] And I got a Jesus Jones CD, and two stickers with Winona Rider and the Sex Pistols on them. Made me happy. In any event. I thought you all should know that the littlest things can make you happy. I dunno. Haha. Think about it, she's got a serrated edge that she moves back and forth 4:43 p.m. - Thursday, Oct. 29, 2009 Can you tell I've fallen in love with my new CAKE album? Hee hee. Soupy Sales died yesterday. My dad used to watch his show and pretend he didn't because of his age. I thought he was kind of funny. He looked like the man who plays the main character in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, whose name escapes me. Marcus? It was an M name I think. The only reason I'm NOT posting this yesterday is because I could get on the computer for all of five minutes yesterday. But that's okay because I'm making up for it now, even if I can't get the CNN headlines from yesterday. My undying faith in the swine flu vaccine is somewhat faltering now. I heard about a cheerleader who was apparently allergic, and she now has a speech impediment and physical disability. Or maybe she was just cheering too much. I'm getting the shot anyway- I don't like the prospect of being swined. HALLOWEEN IS ON SATURDAY!! But it doesn't look like I'm going to be able to get my Blind Melon Bee Girl costume ready in time. Anyone who has a bee costume, or yellow objects of clothing, or something moderately bee-ish that aren't actual bees, help a homie out. Or else I'm going as Jim's three-hole punch shirt, which is unoriginal and not looking too likely either. Tomorrow is Pink-Out day at school for breast cancer awareness month. I think it's kind of interesting how October is B.C.A. month- the month where millions of women will put on "uplifting" costumes that display their hopefully-healthy ta-ta's. Whatever. If it helps cure cancer, I'm all for it. The new CD's are going well. Pornflakes aren't that good, but they're only one artist on a CD compilation of nine. It's called "Smirk, Titter, and Wink." Under the address listing for the CD it says "Send pubes." Oh, softcore Maryland metal. One of the better CD's is called Charlie in the Box, featuring a six-and-a-half-minute song called "The Beach Song," in which they sing "Doinkas, doinkas, doinkas all the time." Is it sad that I don't know what a doinka is? I don't think so. The last one is called Some Assembly Required by "Lazy." It's funny how iTunes lists them as metal when they are the furthest thing from metal that anyone can imagine. They're good though. If anyone's interested in free music. I have a cell phone and a life. So talk to me. Hee hee hee. I made a Greyhound bus on its way to New York honk its horn yesterday. Completely improved my mood. I don't know whether to think of that as uplifting because he honked, or sad that I find joy in that. I think it's the little things that count. Think about it, i'd better not be sick... 5:41 p.m. - Tuesday, Oct. 27, 2009 So I'm getting that really bad feeling you get in the back of your throat that you get the day before you get sick. And I really hope I don't get sick. If I get the swine I'm gonna kick a hole in the wall. But that's another story for another time. Let's see how CNN feels about the swine [I love how the first tab under the "Health" section is "Where is the flu vaccine?"] You know, I'm not even going to copy and paste this. It's pointless to do so. You can look at it for yourself. http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/10/24/swine.flu.checklist/index.html I love how the main photo is a woman looking to be in immense pain while getting the advertised flu shot... and the caption reads "Experts say you should seriously consider getting an H1N1 vaccine." I don't know about you, but I'm not into that kind of thing. I just don't want to get sick is all. In any event, it's raining here, and it won't stop raining all week. I'd wanted to bike to school all week, but I don't think that's going to happen. I'm not a fan of hearing about car accidents because of the weather, and my French brakes- or lack thereof- aren't going to stand up to this Maryland rain. Have fun. Don't die. Have a good Business Day. Halloween on Saturday!!! Think about it, P.S. HAPPY BIRTHDAY JOHN CLEESE!!! WE ALL LOVE YOU!!!! girls in skirts and boots on bikes. 7:34 p.m. - Monday, Oct. 26, 2009 From a Buck Brothers song that I've fallen in love with. You probably won't find them on YouTube. Ask me for a free CD. :D Also, COMMENT BOX IS UP!Although I can't see it when I'm signed in. And it takes a while to refresh. MAJOR PROPS TO MAISTO, the temporary Fonzie. I found this cool website on a passing banner advert on Facebook. Check it out. http://www.girleffect.org/ Ooh, CNN has a new homepage look. Let's check it out. *Reid announces plan with public option[...'kay?] Yikes. That child prostitution thing scared me a little. I mean I don't personally understand it. Different strokes for different folks, I guess. Eeesh. Am I the only one that feels sad when Christmas commercials come up on TV when Halloween hasn't even passed yet? Please tell me I'm not the only one. I went to CD Game-Exchange today and got 3 CDs I know nothing about. One of them features a band called Pornflakes. Should be fun. But I nearly got into a bike accident again. I was going down this massive hill I always go down, and I had the CD's in my sweatshirt pocket, and somehow my steering shifted and I veered around the road, nearly losing control of the handlebars. At the speed I was going, I could've gotten really hurt. Am going to invest in a bitchin' helmet. Think about it- and please don't die-, i see a red door and i want it painted black. 8:31 p.m. - Friday, Oct. 23, 2009 First post with the new layout. And yeah, I know... I hate the Rolling Stones, so why am I putting it as the title? It's been stuck in my head all day. And I'm giving the album a try. In other news. Here's some perspective on the real world, outside my Shannon Hoon still-being-alive fantasies. CNN.com says: * Sad polar bear gets a new home ["Mama? Am I a pooooolah beah?"] There was a massive group of Japanese students who came to the school today. They were only visiting, so I didn't make real friends with anyone. Except this one guy named Fuji, who I befriended through a friend of mine. He apparently played rugby and guitar, and he did play video games. One thing that kind of got to me about the students was how the girls were dressed. They were actually wearing the stereotypical Japanese schoolgirls' uniforms. The navy pleated miniskirt, and blazers, and white button-down shirts with the little ruffly bow thing, and socks and sneakers. And their hair was all styled and pretty. I don't know if I've been reading too much manga, or it was real. Or maybe Japan is trying to trick us into believing that that's what they wear. Maybe it's actually their uniform? Might be getting a new iPod sometime soon... Also I'm thinking again. So y'all should watch out. ;) Think about it, quite an eventful day 6:09 p.m. - Thursday, Oct. 22, 2009 The eventful day's events, in order of happenstance: 1. I made a new friend because I was late.
13. Said hi to the Cameron Frye guy. It doesn't take much. it's today, it's today! more on Shannon Hoon. 8:12 a.m. - Wednesday, Oct. 21, 2009 And the spacebar on this keyboard is... less than satisfactory. In other news, it's October the 21st. The fourteenth anniversary of Shannon Hoon's death. He was found dead in his trailer at 1:20 PM on this day, fourteen years ago. Now Wikipedia says that his cause of death was from cocaine, but it used to say that it was from a speedball. Either way it was from drugs and that's just a shame. Managers and friends alike say he didn't want to die and, frivolous as it may seem, he adds an extra verse onto an acoustic version of his song "Change": "No, I don't wanna die." He stopped dreamin' before his time was through. Some say he had it coming because of all the drugs he did, because he was such a supreme stoner. He did a convincing cover of Steppenwolf's "The Pusher" that wasn't released to the public until his tribute album, Nico. Some even relate other artists' post-rehab songs, which they say are "astronomically better than their original work," to the death of Hoon, and it makes me think what would've happened if he had successfully gone through rehab. But I think it's really sad and unfair that so many people continue to do drugs, and have been doing them longer than he did, and are out to hurt people. He only wanted to sing and write music, and now he's gone. There's a video on YouTube of his daughter, Nico Hoon, singing "Change" with the rest of Blind Melon backing her up. It's fantastic. Nearly cried when I saw it. Anyway. Today isn't a day for CNN postings, today is a day for remembering. 'Cause hey, if the only thing he's remembered for is No Rain, then that's alright. It's not a bad song. Only that it's just the tip of the iceberg. Hoon lives vicariously through us all. :) Think about it, hoonlives95 Hi. 6:27 p.m. - Tuesday, Oct. 20, 2009 Hello. Nice to meet you! It's me. I don't know if you noticed but it really is me. A certain part of me, and not ALL of me, but me. And not everyone's gonna see all of me in this blog, but you're gonna see a fair amount of me. Not necessarily the good me, or the bad me, but me in general. And sometimes I don't have the courage to bring the real me out in real life, so I come here. And that's usually the real me. Just thought I'd get that one out there. [Out of a lack of self-deprecation, I'm not going to count the number of times I used the word "me" in that little paragraph.] In other news, literally, I haven't covered the actual news in awhile. Let's see what's on the CNN homepage. * Dubai building half-mile-high skyscraper [Wow. Put that on my places-to-go-before-I-die list.] It's getting cold. Not much to comment on that. I let the pink Schwinn tricycle rest. Tomorrow is October the 21st, the fourteenth anniversary of Shannon Hoon's death day. It's just... I don't know. It's a cryin' shame about him, and I think it's kind of sad that people don't recognise that. They focus on people like Michael Jackson, and "now" celebrities. But man... to do what this guy did, and NOT go insane under pressure... Think about it. "No Rain" was in almost every movie in the 1990's. It was in a Pepsi commercial, for God's sakes. Meh. I don't know. It's been a slow-moving week, and it's only Tuesday. I just don't want to do this stuff anymore. It's not appealing and I don't like it. And I'm not aiming this at anyone, necessarily, it's just... not fun. I don't know. Take some time out for Shannon Hoon tomorrow... even if it's just a fleeting "Oh, yeah, that guy"-type thought. It wouldn't hurt. I'm sure he's somewhere, and he'll appreciate it. Think about it, it could always be worse. 10:01 p.m. - Thursday, Oct. 15, 2009 Today was one of the most eventful days of my life, without a doubt. [So far.] In the same day, I experienced about fifteen different cliche's- including "you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone," "once you get what you think you want, you don't want it anymore," and the more recent- "put yourself in someone else's shoes." I broke up with my boyfriend yesterday. It wasn't as sudden as it really seemed to everyone else- or him. I'd been thinking about it for awhile, and I just decided that it was time. I had this clear perfect image in my head of what the aftermath would be like, but it turned out to be completely different. Instead of understanding what he did wrong, he guilt-tripped me for dumping him. So I ended up watching episodes of Season 5 of The Office until 2 in the morning, after which I proceeded to cry my eyes out to the whimsical tune of his favourite song, "Shine On" by Jet. I went back and forth between being confident in my decision and feeling massive remorse for what I did. So we're "on break." Somewhat. Then I was hanging out with a friend of mine after school, and... things went in a very different direction than I'd expected. Not bad, necessarily. Just different. And I wasn't really ready for that. Sleep deprivation and the events of this week combined were not a good prep course for what happened. I just didn't expect it, and it upset me, and I was just confused and worried about everything. I was forced into a decision I really didn't think would be forced upon me. But all of this introverted bullshit was put into perspective a little while ago. I wasn't originally going to post anything tonight, but this is just too weird NOT to. A friend of mine, now in the 8th grade, has been talking to me for the past few weeks. He's one of my little protege's, and I've kind of been neglecting to talk to him for awhile. He IM'ed me and told me to look at his Facebook status. It turns out that a friend of his from a different state committed suicide. And he'd had a crush on her. I had an instant "holy shit" moment. And then I realised, "It could be SO much worse." I instantly heard "Life Ain't So Shitty" go through my head. And I became disgusted at the amount of time I spent today thinking about ME instead of other people, and how much of this week, and the week before. Looking back over this one post it's entirely been about me. I suppose it's okay to have somewhere where you can escape and be introverted and selfish, so long as you aren't like that ALL the time. I mean, that's why I started this blog. I kept dragging other people into my problems, and it pushed me down further into the hole I'd begun to dig. And even though I have this little thing, I still think too much, and it screws everything up. If I could just make a decision and be content with it then it'd be alright. I wouldn't be forced to worry about it. It would just be what it is, and I'd be able to leave it there. In any event. Let's have a look at the world today. CNN says, Well I suppose that's all for tonight... this is probably the longest post yet. Maybe there will be longer posts later on, maybe this will be the longest one. Don't dwell on it TOO much, jeremy spoke in class today. 8:46 p.m. - Wednesday, Oct. 14, 2009 We took the ACT/PLAN test this morning, and for some reason the song "Jeremy" by Pearl Jam floated into my head. Standardized tests do that sometimes... It has a deeper meaning than Eddie Vedder screaming his soul out. Y'know, if you can get past that. In any event, let's check the highlights of CNN. *SI: Limbaugh dropped from group's NFL bid [THANK God.] Oh lord. When I look back and think what the world has come to I get scared. Anywho. I'm making new friends. I didn't think that was possible... I now have 365 friends on Facebook. I know it's not 500+ like some people [showoffs] have, haha, but it's still a lot. And to think I know all of them. Geez. But I love all of you. And all you readers. Ha, all three of you. I do appreciate it though. Having followers makes me feel important, like I actually have something worth doin'. Think about it, first CNN infusion 9:43 p.m. - Tuesday, Oct. 13, 2009 Firefox and the internet connection are both being too slow. I'm too lazy. I've been thinking too much again, and I'm too tired for anything but hitting the pillow and falling asleep the moment I do. I have a massive day ahead of me tomorrow. Let's look at the headlines, shall we? CNN.com says, Thought I'd bring a little reality into the introverted bullshit that is my blog. Hope you enjoyed. In other news, the 14th anniversary of Shannon Hoon's death is on the 21st. Hopefully people will acknowledge this... Maybe a black T-shirt here and there? Nah, no one knows who he is anymore. God, that's a sad thought. Maybe he's like this blog. People can look and listen if they want to, and form their own opinions. But at least they looked. Think about it, the one about silverchips. [again.] 4:23 p.m. - 2009-10-12 Well everyone, I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm on the centerspread of the newest Silverchips. Even though they didn't give the link [it's kind of hard for people to click a newspaper], I'm hoping everyone at least morbidly following is gonna spread the word. Isn't that how rumours and stuff gets around? Also, it got cold. I mean, really cold. As in I-wore-my-slippers-to-school-it's-so-cold. And it didn't help at all. October isn't supposed to be this cold. See, that's why I really hate Autumn. It doesn't have a determined temperature. In the spring it doesn't matter, because everyone's sneezing their brains out and you're too dazed from your allergy meds to notice, "Hey, it's cold!" It's going to get warmer this week or I'm moving to California until it does. Hmph. I also want to... apologise? I'm not sure how to make up for the angst and bitchiness that went into last night's blog. I mean, it WAS National Coming Out Day. And it kind of HAD to be said at some point or another. I kind of wanted everyone to know at one time, instead of it going around school. [Perfect example of the bad kind of 'word of mouth.'] Sorry if I came off too strong about it, but I kind of wanted everyone to know. A bunch of my friends went to the march yesterday. They didn't get close enough to see the actual speakers, but they were near one of the Jumbo-tron things. They were apparently also at the Inauguration. But we saw two, and we only saw the side. Do they ever come down? Or are there little cameras positioned in the trees, where people can come up and be like "Hey! I'm on the Jumbo-tron." Or maybe bored fourteen-year-olds living dangerously close to DC with nothing to do. Haha. So if this is the first post you've read... please don't judge. I'm just like you, only short and skinny and I probably worry about unimportant shit more than you do. At least I hope so. Yikes. Think about it, I AM FUCKING BISEXUAL, AND PROUD OF IT. 10:33 p.m. - 2009-10-11 Yeah, you heard me. Why didn't I post this on Facebook? And why have I directed you here? Because not everyone on Facebook is open to my ideas and opinions. Well fuck 'em. I like girls AND boys, and today is the day to tell you that. Sorry to be so blunt about it. But some of you didn't know, and I thought you should. It's because of these people that I wasn't able to voice my opinion at the National Equality March in DC today, even though I am literally fifteen minutes outside of DC. Because these people don't view it as a life choice. They view it as a phase. Or something temporary. And I'm sorry, but that's wrong. So, I'm bisexual. Get over it. Mmkay? It's been on Facebook for a long long time. Maybe if you looked, or asked me, you could find out. :D (Happy October 11th, also known as National Coming Out Day.) Think about it, all over a bowl of bitter beans, all over a bowl of bitter beans. 1:19 p.m. - 2009-10-03 If you're wondering why the hell it's over a bowl of bitter beans, then let me say this: It's a Shannon Hoon quote. From my new favorite Blind Melon song. Why? Cos' I got another Blind Melon album. I'm quite satisfied. I've needed some more Hoon-age, and I got it. Maybe that's what's been missing this week. This week was less than exciting. It didn't start out too well- but it soon turned upwards. He and I went to the movies yesterday, but before we hung out in the park. At one point he and I were facing each other, and we just put our foreheads together, and rested them on each other's, and looked straight into each other's eyes and said we loved each other. It was really sweet, but very deep. Gah. I have to go. I'll finish this later. ~LATER~ Hahaha, that makes me feel like I'm scriptwriting. Which I should take up. But that's not the point. What was I talking about this morning? Oh yes. The eye-to-eye thing. It was interesting. I really felt like I knew him in a different way. Agh. This is sounding mushy and gushy and just plain awful. Why? Because I'm not writing sincerely. Like last week I'm trying to remind myself of the happiness in my life to cover up the bad shit. But it's alright, because like last week, I'll get over the bad shit as soon as I'm done posting this. Why? Because I'm a typical shallow teenager just like the rest of you. Think about it, hoonlives95 why are there so many mingyangs? 10:36 p.m. - 2009-09-29 So I just wanted to post one time this week. Last week wasn't too fun. But it was justified. How, you may ask? Well, Saturday night was homecoming. And Monday, my boyfriend [that is the situation, people, I couldn't post and say so but it is] and I hung out in downtown Silver Spring. Homecoming was eventful... big and sweaty and eventful. I keep thinking that it hasn't come yet, that I have something big and sweaty and eventful to look forward to. But no, nothing until Halloween. In any event, he and I decided that we could dance with other people so long as we didn't take it any further. And this isn't sweet, cute, holding-hands giggly-type dancing. It's grinding, folks, this is Blair high school. So we gave each other 'free reign' as he put it. It was fun- I think I would have been upset if it weren't that way. But he and I did end up dancing quite a bit, both grinding and slow-dancing. And we ended up making out in the middle of the massively crowded dance floor. Which raises a question in my mind. Only because he isn't willing to do PDA's. So if he won't kiss me in front of his friends, why will he kiss me when we're surrounded by people? Is it because he doesn't know all of them as well as he knows his friends? Am I embarrassing to him? Is it because I overthink everything to the point of redundant monotonous failure? Probably so. Let's move on. Onto the topic mentioned in the subject title box thingy: Why are there so many copies of the user named "mingyang?" There's mingyang1-mingyang9, or so I can see, and they're all online right now. I wonder why. On this page... I just had an Incubus moment. You were here to witness it. Grateful? You should be. :D We had the greatest substitute teacher in Spanish class today. She was short, Hispanic, and she not only looked but also SOUNDED like Robin William's Mexican bird voice from Mrs. Doubtfire. If you haven't seen that part of the movie you can probably YouTube it. Very scratchy, somewhat throaty, high-pitched. But it was FANTASTIC because she was hilarious. It wasn't really her senility, which was a factor in the humour, but more of the fact that she just didn't give a damn. She'd call us "mi amores" and singled one student out as "Miss America." She reminded me of Gabriel Iglesias. Which is hilarious to me, because she's a short, sixty-year-old Hispanic woman in need of a knee replacement. She is, in fact, my superhero. Anyway. He and I are planning on going to the movies on Friday night. We're probably not going to watch the movie at all. Which is exaggerating, but somewhat true. My brother decided to throw in an edge of surrealism into the conversation a moment ago. He's doing a paper on whether he's afraid of dying or growing old. It's making me think too much, so I'm probably not going to sleep again tonight... balls. But he told me that if he goes first, if he dies before I do, he wants to be buried in a pinewood box underneath a tree. If that can't happen he wants to be cremated and put somewhere with the least space possible. I thought I'd just put that up there. In case I forget or something. For all you readers that have an influence on this kind of stuff- and have read this far down- There's a graveyard in Dayton, Indiana. Mr. Richard Shannon Hoon is buried there. Now listen up, homies, because this is important. If I die, I want to be buried in the same graveyard as Shannon Hoon. Okay? I don't want to be cremated, or made a big fuss over. I want the people who knew me best, who really knew me, or at least tried to, to come up to Indiana and pay their respects, and just leave me be. Wow, that was depressing. Haha. I'm not sure why I'm posting this on the internet. But it gives me a better sense of clarity and perspective and all that good shit. Think about it, silverchips? and gay pride. 6:04 p.m. - 2009-09-16 Now I know some of you are going to read "gay pride" and go "LESBIAN!!!" And some of you will even stop reading for that reason. Let me get to that later. My blog (this 'un right here) is going to be featured in the school paper. Pretty cool. I'm actually going to have more people who read this. Just thought I'd let all my current readers know. All three of you. Hahaha. And now we get to the part where Ellie explains the title. A guy I know was hanging out by the exit yesterday afterschool. I was coming out with two friends of mine. We hadn't planned on meeting up with him, but somehow he ended up venting on how awful his day was. He was stuck in an awkward situation with a girl he didn't know was gay. I wasn't really paying attention- I don't have much of a respect for him, but that's a whole 'nother bowl of porkchops- but he said something along the lines of "That's the problem with girls these days." And it sounded to me like he was saying lesbianism was a bad thing. Now, I'm a tolerant person. I've grown up in an environment, if you will, where I need to use patience and tolerance and all that good stuff. But when you go up to three random girls, who you don't exactly have a good history with- whole 'nother bowl of porkchops, I told you- then why would you say something so profoundly sexist? And he kept on yammering how she was wrong, and how his feelings were hurt. Somewhere in there I looked at him and said "Why would you say that?" Because I was kind of hurt by it. And you just don't do that. But he kept on talking, and I just got pissed off and walked away. It's not that I wasn't pissed off. Because believe me, I was. But I just didn't want anything to do with him anymore. So I walked away, and just kept walking. And about twenty seconds later my friends came up behind me and went "What a jackass." Anyway. I was biking on the street and some pissed-off driver called me "lady." I didn't quite know what to think. I guess it was a compliment? Or maybe I'm just on a big bike. Hahaha. School's been going well. Making new friends every day. I feel like I'm in kindergarten again, but like a K-5 school. Where you have the really little kids and the slightly less little kids that make the really little kids feel much smaller. Seriously, I feel like I've shrunk two feet since middle school. But I know it won't be that way forever, and there are cool people down here with me, so I'm happy. Cool people like a Yankees fan I know. He's really nice and has good taste in everything except sports. He reminds me of that guy from All That.(Does anyone even remember All That anymore? I doubt it. What has this world come to?) But he's pretty cool. Also, I dunno if anyone's noticed, but it's autumn now. Which means it's getting cold again. Doesn't really make me happy. But that means winter's coming, and that means Christmas and my birthday and snow. And if I don't get snow, I'm vying to move to somewhere where it WILL snow. But only until March is over. Then we can come back, I guess. So that's about it. I just wanted to post something slightly less agitated and vulgar and negative than my last post. Because I'm not like that all the time, I'm really not. Hope all you readers, previous and new, realise that. :D Think about it, so this is what happens when i don't post for a very long time. 7:55 p.m. - 2009-09-09 I suppose I lost interest? But I don't really know how to say that without being brutally honest. Because right now, that's my only aspiration. To be honest. To my brother. To my dear, dear brother. I do love you. But I really don't like you. Therefore, I don't consider you as a friend. I consider you as my brother. And I know you love me, which is of course why you overreact when I screw up and then throw shit in my general direction, not necessarily AT me but should STILL count as intimidation. Seeing as I don't consider you as a FRIEND, I don't see any reason WHY we should be FRIENDS on Facebook or Myspace. I don't like it when you snoop in my personal stuff, which is why I don't go in yours. And "choosing her over you?" Okay. Since when did you want to be associated with her at all? Because I can't recall a time when you said "Yeah, everything's okay, we're friends." You don't talk to each other. Therefore you have nothing to do with each other. The fact that I'm YOUR little sister doesn't matter, at ALL, in the situation. The fact that she considers me as a human being, AND NOT A GO-BETWEEN FOR MOM AND DAD, DOES count. So I'm sorry if it feels like I'm choosing her over you, but if you look at it through my eyes, then it sure as hell seems plausible. And also, I didn't WANT to choose anyone over anyone. I want to have both. I'm a firm believer in the fact that just because they're friends with my friend doesn't mean that they're friends with me. Because I know how shitty it feels when you expect that and it doesn't happen. But that apparently wasn't enough for you. So I made a decision. Hmmmmm. The caring person who's there for me (not necessarily the girl in her position, but the PERSON at ALL) and who actually gives a shit about my life and isn't bullshitting me when she says "That really sucks," OR the intimidating fuckhead who basically studied the Bible of St. Hypocrisy. Ooooh. Tough fuckin' choice. And I know. It's not exactly orthodox for me to be in this situation with her. But at least she gives a shit about my life, and doesn't THROW things at me, or threaten to tell Mom and Dad about my every little fuckup. Ever consider that? That maybe she's a more passionate and caring person than you are? That MAYBE I HAVE GOOD REASON FOR PICKING HER OVER YOU, IF THAT'S HOW YOU WANT TO PHRASE IT????? Jesus H. Christ. Sorry about that. Hahaha. Hi, how are you? I really needed to vent right then, but I'm back. There is more but I'm just beyond going into it right now. Ahhh. In any event, I just recently started school again. Much fun. I'm pretty content with my teachers, and I've met lots of new, awesome people. Think about it, oh my lord. it's been too long. 12:32 p.m. - 2009-06-19 Oh lord. I've forgotten about you again. So much has changed since I last posted... So very, very much. School's finally out for the summer, and I have Camp in a little over two weeks. I'm really excited, but this means that some of my friends and I can't hang out until the middle of July, because they're doing things before I go to camp. So I'm basically stuck at home, with nothing to do, for two whole weeks. While it sucks, I could definitely use some down-time. One of my good friends went AWOL on me the week after I last posted. She said John Krasinski looks like my English teacher, whom I used to have a crush on. I got defensive, and hit her a bit too hard. She walked off and wouldn't hear any of my apologies. A couple months later, I've already tried to apologize, but she won't listen. She's taken to giving me the stink face, and pretending like there's something particularly nasty in the room whenever I'm there. Now I don't have a problem when people don't like me. I'm used to it. But when you think that way, KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. Because not everyone thinks the way you do. Then, when we all got our yearbooks, she pulled a big one. Not only did she write shit about me in someone ELSE'S YEARBOOK, she scribbled out MY signature- IN SOMEONE ELSE'S YEARBOOK!!- and wrote an arrow with "whore next to it." Now, I am not a whore. I can certifiably tell you all that if there is one thing that I am not, it's a prostitute. I'm not a lesbian either, but let's not open THAT wound again. So she does all this shit. Involving someone entirely different in the equation of her shitting on me. My friend, who is stuck in the middle of all this, isn't happy with her. But I don't really care. I think I have a healthy circle of friends now- completely different people, but still awesome- and I don't want to fuck that up by looking in the past. And there has been much too much drama with my aforementioned Romeo. We hung out the Sunday after my last post- and everything went great. Until my parents found out that he's two years older than I am. Now here's how fucked up my family is: Whenever my dad complains about something, it's always- and I mean ALWAYS- my mother that goes in and does the dirty work. Whenever HE thinks that I need new shoes, which I didn't really, he send my mother out to go shopping with me. Even though HE enjoys shopping more than she does, and even though SHE gets pissed off. My mother knows that I'm a responsible person, and I'm competent enough to know what I'm doing, and when someone's trying to get to me just for a physical relationship. And he wasn't! He really wasn't, and she could see that. The most physical thing he did was give me a piggyback and we'd run screaming down the path to freak out the joggers. Who didn't really do anything, but we fell down laughing. She knew that's what was going on. And yet we spend nearly two hours at Starbucks, where she tries to convince me that she's in control all the time, and that she can handle anything my dad cooks up. But she can't. She never can. She is always submissive to whatever HE wants to do. Why? I have no fucking idea. It's been this way for as long as I can remember. And sometimes, I get really pissed off about it. But what happened with Romeo: A few weeks after we hung out, he realized that there are certain "barriers," he said, that separated us. And that he thought there could be more, but there were things that came between us; things that were too big to overcome. When he said that he wanted to stay friends, I cried for half an hour straight. Then, less than a month later, we start talking about hanging out again, about what we'll do if we get to hang out again. And he mentioned the bases. Now I got freaked out. Why? Because in a couple of years, it'll be called sagitory rape. And a red flag went up. So I told him that I wouldn't go past second without a serious commitment. Then I went and talked to my sister, which was a good fuck move. She went AWOL because she didn't want me messing around yet. And to tell you all the truth, I don't either. So he and I agreed that we wouldn't go that far next time we saw each other. But we apparently had romantic feelings for each other, which is kind of scary. I mean, I want someone I like to like me back. That's my main goal- to feel the same way about someone. I have that with my friends, and it's awesome. So why can't I have that kind of thing in a relationship? Then, and this is what really got me thinking, he started telling me how he couldn't hang out, week after week after week. Even though he has expressed romantic interest in me, MULTIPLE TIMES, MIGHT I ADD, he's not making time to build on a relationship. And I can't understand why. Has he been lying? Does he not want to hurt my feelings? I don't know. But I'm laying off on talking to him. I really don't want to get hung up on him. It hurts, it really does, when you like someone who doesn't like you back. Now this isn't to say that I'm accepting every guy who has a crush on me. That's different. Some of those guys are really creepy. They basically stalk me. But I get to thinking: Do I do that to the people I like? I mean, I really don't want to be like one of those guys. After a while, the flattery ends, and it's just clingy bitchiness. I don't know if I'm doing that, though...I really hope I'm not. If the one I'm talking about is reading this, please note: I do like you, but I don't want to push things. And I don't want to start a relationship with anyone who doubts their feelings too much. I doubt my feelings. All the time. But most of the time, I work through that, because I really do like you. If you don't want to start this, then please TELL me, so I can at least know, and make an educated decision on what to do. Aggh. I'm overthinking again. I hate that. I'll probably get over this shit soon enough. Oh, and I had a really fucked-up dream last night. It was about the guy I used to have a crush on. We were at school- in the summertime- and he told my friend and I that he was planning a trip for New York, and that we should come with him. Then we left school, and he came over to my house to play Scrabble. But my brother and his girlfriend- now his ex-girlfriend, which was really weird- were in the dining room, which meant we had to play Scrabble in the bathroom. We didn't notice this until I realized I was sitting on the toilet backwards, with the Scrabble board on the box part. I told him, and he started laughing. We then talked about something completely random, and then he said "Goodbye" very softly, so I barely heard it. Then I ran outside to see if his car was still out front, which it wasn't. I got sad, and then went to give my mother a hug. After I'd finished crying, she told me what the boxy part of the toilet was called- which I can't remember- and then, I woke up. The weird thing is, I used to have a crush on him, and I have finally convinced myself that I don't like him anymore. So why am I dreaming about him? Ah well. Things are weird. We've been having constant thunderstorms for the past month or so, which is not making me happy. I can't go biking as often anymore because the roads are too wet, or the creek's flooded and there's sand and dirt everywhere. Speaking of which, I got a new bike since I last posted. Because my old one was stolen, since someone left the garage door wide open. Now, why they'd steal a bright pink, out-of-shape, women's bicycle, as opposed to the professional sound system, or the brand-new lawnmower, is beyond me. But it was gone, and I think I cried. What got to me more was this: My parents didn't really care that someone basically BROKE and ENTERED in our HOUSE. They didn't care at all. They consoled me enough that I would shut the hell up, so they could get on with their lives. So they bought me a new bike. It's a red Peugeot from the late 70's. She's beautiful. I love her to death. I named her Marijke, which means Magic in Russian. It only makes sense. So now I'm off to go biking, before it starts raining again, and maybe get out of the house and pretend to have a life for once. I'm not going to get hung up on him- I really don't want to. It's a major waste of time- time that I don't have, precious time that I don't want to lose. Think about it, around and over, in between the seas... 10:21 p.m. - 2009-04-13 So it didn't go as I expected. I mean, I was supposed to have this kickass, amazing spring break. Like I had last year. But no, the most exciting thing that happened was seeing my sister. And that was for all of what- one day? My friends don't call me anymore, my band's gone... although we may start up a new one without the drummer. I hate him. With a fiery passion. I had an interesting dream last night. It was about me, my friend, and the guy I used to have a crush on. He was wearing this striped suit, and my friend was wearing a striped Aeropostale shirt. That's all I can remember about clothing and how people looked... nothing out of the ordinary, except my friend doesn't really like Aeropostale. In any event, this is the second dream where the guy and I have talked about bass guitar. In the first dream, which was some time ago, he chastised me for playing bass, saying "I need to play a real guitar." Then he took my bass from me and pulled a monster mama-jam, Flea style. I mean, he was doing the bendy-leg thing. {That was when I had too much crispy beef and was high off life. Those were the days...} In this dream, he was pantomiming an upright bass, telling me how I should brag to people. Then I pantomimed my electric bass, which is much easier. He said something about the New Age, or New Century, or Year 2000. But I'm not sure what the comment was. Then he went over to talk to someone else, and my friend asked me if I was ready to go. I said yeah. Then I woke up. Real exciting, I know. But the bass thing? I need to look over that again. It's just too weird not to. And I'm seeing him again tomorrow- one of the pluses about going back to school. It's that, and seeing my other friend again, against the armadas of downsides about returning to school after spring break. I wonder how he's going to be. I mean, we left things kind of awkward-like before the break, and I don't know what's going to happen. I also don't know how it's going to be with my friend that told me "she felt like a better person when she's not around me." She could be really upset with me and not talk at all, or return to normalcy with no questions asked. I just need to shut the hell up and watch what happens, I guess. Alright, home-skillets. I'll probably blog again tomorrow- this is actually fun. But not much is fun these days. Not anymore. Think about it, How tired is sublimely tired? 8:18 p.m. - 2009-03-21 Sublimely tired is when you can't help but get annoyed with anyone who gives you an order. Especially teachers and your parents. It's when you can barely tell if you're awake or not. It's when falling asleep on one of those really uncomfortable chair-desk combos doesn't annoy you like it normally does. It's when you wouldn't be that ashamed of your snoring, that is if you'd actually fall asleep on your desk. {For the record, your hearing becomes a helluva lot more sensitive when you're on the brink of sleep.} It's when your whole body hurts, every joint, every portion of every part of your body aches. It's when you can no longer write from inspiration. You write from delirious sleepiness. It's when you lose your train of thought twice, subsequently. {It's when you don't bother translating that last sentence into proper English.} Sublimely tired is so tired that even when you get a good night's sleep, and you don't have a set time to wake up, you still feel just as tired the next day. Yeah. That's how tired I am, and have been since last Sunday. I stay up too late one night, and my day is immediately set an hour later, and it continues. Except I still have to get up at the same time, so I'm basically screwed. It's also the worst week to be tired, because I had testing. I did fine, though... idiotic testing. I hate standardized tests, but let's not probe THAT wound again. We got the shiny new iMac on Saturday. I'm on the crappy old computer now, because the iMac is currently in use by another. It wouldn't change much, just the graphics might be a bit better. I can't get too used to that computer, though... it's not mine and I'm supposedly sharing one with my mother. If we buy one. We've been scrimping and saving to spend less money, and then we spend $2000 on a brand new computer. Life is confusing these days. I FINALLY HAD A DREAM THAT WAS SOMEWHAT LIKE WHAT I'VE BEEN PRAYING FOR!!! What happened was my school was apparently combined with my camp, and a guy from camp that I'm crushing on was in it. But I don't remember much from it. I don't know why... Is it because it's not what I hoped for? I had a particularly epic dream in November {yeah, so epic that I remember all of it.} I wanted to have another one like it... But how do you manipulate your dreams?? maybe i think too much... 7:32 p.m. - 2009-03-13 Well hello there. It's been a while. I nearly forgot about my Diaryland. Isn't that sad? The one thing I was trying to keep consistent in my life was lost in the jumble of bullshit that constantly surrounds me. {wow, I'm actually poetic.} As for my ripped jeans, if any of you care anymore, I've just gone and bought two more pairs. They are both of favorite jeans-potential. Even though I'm trying to get off skinny jeans... Oh well. We're beginning MSAs next week. Have I ever told you all how much I hate standardized tests? I think I put it in one of those that I forgot to save as a draft, or something of that nature. In any event, I really, REALLY hate standardized tests. I disagree with them morally and I really just can't stand them. So our school schedule is completely FUBAR, and we can't do normal schoolwork. This is actually a plus when you think about it, but we get so behind and stuff just sucks all around. And they're just to make the school look good. As I said, I'm morally and compellingly against it. But whatever, I'm still required to take them. My friend Kate's moving back to Florida until the beginning of April, and she gets to ride horses and miss out on all this FUBAR testing crap. Lucky. Oh well, I'll get over it soon. That's one of the pluses about hormonal bitchy mood swings: you get over stuff faster. At least, you're supposed to. For example, the guy I like has expressed a deep disinterest in me. This is something I should be able to shrug off easily, thanks to hormonal bitchy mood swings, right? But I can't seem to get him off my mind. Why is this? I'm not in love with him, in fact I'm trying to stop liking him. But how do you stop liking someone you've fawned over forever? Well not forever, but still. I hate love. I really do. Why can't Cupid get laser-eye surgery already?? I've got the hookup with one of the inventors. So why can't Cupid just get some fricken eyes already and see how much trouble he actually causes around here? Maybe I'm just overreacting. I'm good at that, too. I think about things for too long. Why do I do that? What the hell is wrong with me anyway? Oh well. I bet I'll get over it. Hopefully. If you're in my situation, fellow dove-tailing bloggers, then try to fix it. Because nothing's gonna happen if you just sit on your ass and hope for someone else to do it for you. A crab in a Disney movie told me that. Think about it, First Post [some random questions] 12:13 p.m. - 2009-03-01 "Ooh, let's play craps!" No, I don't know why a Jeff Dunham reference popped into my head just now, nor why I'm posting it in here. Just so you crazy kids know, this is NOT what I do all day. I answer self-generated FAQ's, immerse myself in music and write strange poetry. Oh, and sometimes schoolwork. Here's an FAQ you all probably have: Q: "What's a Hoon and why is it living?" Q: "ASL?" Q: "Will you actually keep this weblog, or just forget about it like you always do with diaries?" Think about it, |
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