Sunday, May 29, 2011
It's funny when I find things that I wrote on Go Ask on other peoples' blogs. And it's funny that they pretend that they are the one that wrote it.
Not funny ha-ha.
Like, funny I-could-just-poison-them funny.
What did you think? That I don't have access to Google or something?
Oh, and I think you forgot to take my social security number and also my PIN. Silly of you. But don't fret, shoot me an email and I'll send you a copy of my birth certificate and ID and straighten this whole thing out.
"Allison", "Beech Blogger", "Xandra", and others: this one's for you. Have fun with your hate mail.
I think the world is black and white. There's grey, if you believe in that. Very little color. Mostly black. Mostly white.
What I mean is, it is the best of times and it is the worst of times. We've got war and addiction and disasters and poverty and evil. But we've got beauty and miracles and goodness and knowledge and sympathy.
It's the impossibility of light meshing with darkness. Somehow we have grown into two separate species all together, and one race gives and the other takes but both survive and both call themselves "Man".
People are good. They are naturally kind and selfless and hopeful.
People are bad. They are naturally mean and selfish and hopeless.
The world is a contradiction and we are, too. And who will you be and where will you stand and what will you call yourself when you outgrow the name "human"?
You are not lost. You are here, with me.
Friday, May 27, 2011
You know those times when you go to your closet and you are startled to find that every single article of clothing that you own is hideous?
This is one of those times.
I think a shopping trip is in order.
And tell yourself: "I am better than this."
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
This one can't be beaten.
Thanks to my dear friend Addy Baird, I have a new soul-eating obsession called Pegasus Bridge, this confusingly great little band from Manchester. Namely, I'm obsessed with the acoustic version of their song "Yoko" (as in, Ono) and for some reason, I can't stop thinking about it.
Gah, I'll stop talking about it and just let you hear it.
Plus this is a gorgeous video, too, so get excited. (I counted five funny little band-inside-joke-moments in it, can you beat that?)
(p.s. let me make it very clear that I've got dibs on the lead singer/uke player [his name's Edward. it figures.] It's mainly because he has the most perfect hair that I've ever crossed paths with, and I've crossed paths with some pretty nice hair in my time. Other things he should be proud of: perfect voice, mouth, hands, ukulele, and little black jacket. So. Let's get married, or whatever.)
Yoko. Oh no.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
I am a time waster.
I waste the week waiting for the weekend and then I waste the weekend waiting for the summer and then I waste summer waiting for school to start again; rinse, repeat.
I wake up after the sun and try to earn the hours back by staying up late.
I'm obsessed with the future, but once I get there, I'm still looking for a different future. I barely ever am in the present. But the future is now, and I forget that.
Here's the thing: this school year blew past me so fast that I felt it break the air around me. I staggered. There's two weeks left of it and I don't think I did anything for nine months. How can a person not do a single thing for nine months?
Here's my newest promise, meant to be broken, but not meant to be discarded as quickly as the others: I will waste no more time.
I will do things.
I will not watch the clock.
I will kill only as much time reading books and watching 90's movies as I spend it doing something more noble like maybe walking in the Bull River or painting watercolors.
I will get up off the couch.
I will find the latest, greatest thing.
I will not doom myself to loneliness even when all my friends appear to be, sadly enough, dead, or at least not answering their cell phones.
I will learn the art of time-savoring.
I will try not to be late.
I will try not to procrastinate.
I will try not to zone out.
I will blog, but I will not click "refresh" fourteen times to see if someone has viewed the site since the last time I updated the page.
All this, and more, just look at me now. Stop wasting time with me, will you? Come with me.
Let's be better, let's be French.
Friday, May 20, 2011
There were a couple things that I laughed at a lot today.
"I guess we're going to pull a Jonah."
"Can I see your abs?"
"I got frustrated and killed a baby."
"The power of Harry Potter is with her."
"I guess I didn't realize that you could control the weather and also my mind."
"You're making me mad. I'm going to listen to Bright Eyes now."
"Ronald Weasley, where have you been?!"
"Nihilism. And does that word come from the Nile River?"
"So, meh. I mean, meh."
"How mad do I get when I go to the store trying to find the biggest size only to find that the biggest sizes are all sold out. Some skinny cool kid brought them all. Get your own size!"
"Just a little lighthearted vandalism, felonies for fun, the usual."
"The word 'pythagorean' doesn't mean 'pretentious'. It's math language and don't try to trick me with some kind of huge vocabulary. I'll win."
"I thought we were friends but he was actually waving at some pretty girl."
"My alarm wasn't going off and I thought, what can I do about this? So I hit the alarm clock really hard and then it turned on."
"It's called destiny and yours is to be a garbage man."
Male-only tickle fights.
Battery-powered airplane toys.
This one girl running to the bus.
This one girl sitting on a scooter in traffic, in the rain.
This one girl mouthing the words to the song I was listening to on the radio in the car.
The scientific method.
A kidney punch that would make you bleed pee (but I laugh at that one every day).
Knitting needles, and thus, balloons.
The scent of dry-erase markers in the morning.
It might have just been one of those days.
Don't wait up.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Hello, loved ones.
I'm working on a post right now, but it's taking a little bit longer than I thought it would.
So hopefully it won't suck too much.
In the meantime, eat a cake-flavored snow-cone.
Or write me a letter. I receive far too few letters to be a happy person. It's why I'm so bitter.
Care of: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft & Wizardry.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
One of the things that I don't look forward to about the future --- I'm quite heartbroken about it, actually --- is the end of the era of throwback class. The end of the current un-trendy trendiness, the end of wool peacoats and lace and leather satchels and French braids and sweater-vests and the color peach and little, ankle-showing canvas shoes.
I'm going to be devastated when, in 20-something years, my bratty kids scoff at cardigans and oxfords.
Because I'm sure the 80's never thought that the 80's were going to go out of style. I'm sure the 90's didn't either, but have you seen the 90's? The 90's was a disaster. Is 2011 going to be a disaster? Will our yearbook pictures be a source of humor for eons to come? I can't imagine it, we look so... normal. So sleek. Nothing compared to those Coke-bottle glasses and flock-of-seagulls hair-do's from our parents' age. Right?
I'm scared for the time when boys will ditch their sweaters and revert back to baggy jeans and so-called "sneakers" and that plaid-shirt-opened-over-another-shirt thing in imitation of the perfect 1995 wannabe. I'll kill myself.
And what'll I do? Throw away my tights and my Toms and the most perfect Poodle Sweater that has ever been? I think not. I think I'd rather be one of those stuck-in-the-80's moms (in my case... stuck-in-the-10's?) that seem soooooo lame to us now, but really are the embodiment of style (that is, if you travel back in time 30 years)?
Yep, that'll be me: embarrassment to teenagers everywhere, and proud.
Can't catch me.