I knew the Irish ruled for a reason...

And it's not just because of their adorable accents.
My roommate Kayla showed me this banned Guinness commercial after I showed her a much less funny and much more cliched joke someone else sent me.
Decided to share it with you fine people. And by "fine people" I am fairly certain I mean "maybe Jon," since no one else reads this anyway.


Banned Commercial For Guinness - Watch more Girl Videos

"Let's Boogie to the Elf Dance!"

New career goal: Give Stephanie Meyer a run for her money.

If she can make a shit ton of money with the crappy, uninventive vampire romance stuff she gets published, so can I, right? Especially since, while my writing is not much above mediocre, it is way better than hers.



In other news, it's time to start listening to Sufjan Steven's Songs for Christmas!
I normally don't start listening to any holiday music until after Thanksgiving, but Sufjan's Christmas album is just so good (with song titles like the subject line of this blog entry, how cna it nnot be?), I have decided I dislike limiting myself to listening to it for only one month a year.
So, I'll extend it to about two months.

Time to read lots of science-y philosophy stuff that is way over my head.

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)


-e.e. cummings



One day, I hope to be my own entire person.
Today is not that day.
Today, I just need you.

Busy Bee Buzzes.

Just looking at my calender is stressing me the fuck out.
How can a human being do everything I need to do this month?
At least November is tame looking...
December is going to be hell, though, what with finals, lots of papers due, a wonky work schedule cause of exams, holidays, and directing a fucking show.
As much as I am excited about directing, I really wish I had waited till Spring, like I intended. But we needed directors, I saw it as my sort of duty to help out with it, and I wasn't planning on taking 18 credits when I said I'd do it. Then again, even with 15 I don't think I'd have had the time.
I'm taking one, maybe two, classes over the winter as well. No break for me.
And in the spring I plan to take 18 credits again. That, work, Hijinks, and hunting for somewhere to live off campus is going to drive me an early grave I'm sure.
All I know is, if not next week definitely the one after, I am going to have to become a paper-writing, studying fiend. I have a paper due next Tuesday, my Screenwriting treatment (5 pages) due next Thursday, my Soc. & Polit. Philosophy midterm next Friday, my logic midterm Monday the 20th, a paper for 1970's due Wed. the 22, and my Philosophy of Science midterm Friday the 24.
Oh, and the week of the 20 is tech week for Comic Relief.

Other news:
I pitched my movie for Screenwriting today. It's a zombie movie again, but not the one I originally intended. I think my professor liked it, he had only one critique to make of it (not making the zombies appear till act two instead of act one, which is indeed a good idea. I'm annoyed at myself for not doing that to begin with).
I am naming the characters all after people I know!
The three main characters are Holly Waldron, Andy Herron, and Greg Dalton. Jon McDermott gets killed early on, as does his movie girlfriend, Kristin Castello (Kristin as in Kristin Bell, Jon's celebrity-lover; I felt narcissistic putting a character named after myself in my own movie).
I also am planning on naming a police officer "Officer C. Holt" (C = Colin!), and the owner of a convenience store they go into "Judd Kingsbury". I am not sure what other characters they will definitely encounter yet, but as I write it I hope to fit as many as my friends names in as possible.
Sorry, everyone; there is a 99% chance you will all get eaten by zombies. Nothing personal.

I saw a lot of unexpected people today. Sightings include: Clark, Ralph, Chris Z., Matia, and Andrew, one of Jon's housemates (I think I have seen all of his housemates at least once, randomly, this week). It was nice to see all these people, and it makes me feel horrible for not keeping in contact with them (and especially for being so distant from my much beloved Basemen).
I'm such a jerk. A busy, busy, stressed out jerk.


Alright, enough bitching. Time to get this logic homework out of the way before rehearsal.





FUCK I HAVE TO LEARN MY LINES! @#%$!!!!

Human Behavior, and some hippie nonsense.

People fascinate me.
I apply everything I've experienced from knowing, seeing, speaking to, and/or hearing about people to every social situation I go through. It's really quite fascinating, and has taught me a lot about how people think and why. It enables me to be braced for people's reactions to extreme events/occurrences, to give advice to others about how to act or to explain why someone may have reacted to something the way they did. I still think, sometimes, that maybe psych was the right path for me; not as a career, but as a study. I sort of mourn the loss of time now, since I plan to go down a career path completely irrelevant to my major anyway-- I may as well have done something with a bit more clout than philosophy, right?
I am still shocked by how terrible some people, are. Or by how I can misjudge them.
I've always had a pessimistic view of modern society, but a more positive one of the nature of the individual.
Over the last few months, perhaps a year or so, I've been rather surprised by just how awful some people are. And how some people who behave terribly, but are really good people, are simply ignorant and un-desiring of change.
I've been thinking about that a lot lately, and how sad it is. It's rather cheesey of me to say, but I do think everyone deserves to be happy, and I am convinced that no one can be happy while they're also being a dick. And I don't see how they can not change that if they can.
This journal is prompted by no event, really. Just some thoughts that have been floating around my brain more frequently in the last few weeks than usual. I am feeling eloquent right now, wanted to get them out.

In other news, I am surprised that so few people seem to appreciate the beauty of the world around them. They don't even seem to notice it.
I was walking down College Ave after class today. It was about 6 o'clock, and the buildings were that golden, orange-yellow color they turn when the sun sets just right. The saplings along the sidewalk have lemon yellow leaves now, and many litter the ground. People were walking, talking, and laughing. Hurrying to or from class. Goofing around. Listening to their iPods and minding themselves. A flock of tiny birds took off while I approached Brower and filled the sky with dozens of tiny black winged specks. Then they were gone.
It was gorgeous and no one seemed to notice, or even want to notice. They never do. I did, though.
I guess that's what makes it so special.

I know it's for the best, but I can't help but feel worthless.

I guess it means I'll have the time to do my homework, though.

Hue Test

I got this while procrastinating my mound of homework with Stumble and it was fun... I got a score of 37, with 0 being a perfect score. It was tricky; staring at my computer screen made it difficult to discern the colors after a certain amount of time passed. Also, my laptop screen distorts colors depending on the angle you have it at, so maybe that had some bearing on my dismal score.
I can only hope!

It's the End of the World as we Know it!

Do you feel fine?

Hah. What a cheesey title.
But no, really. The world is supposedly possibly going to end on Wednesday. Or maybe approximately four years from Wednesday.
A Welsh Physicist is flipping the switch of a giant atomic generator on Wednesday in order to try and recreate the environment of the Big Bang. This may be totally groundbreaking and awesome for science, or it will be literally groundbreaking and cause black holes to errupt all over the planet, effectively destroying life.
I don't think it will really destroy the world, but you can't help but think... what if it does?

All I can say is, the knowledge of the apocalypse possibly happening on Wednesday is making reading for 18th Century Novel harder to focus on than it was before.


To read about it for yourself, check out this handy article my friend Greg sent me.

First Post of September!

My friend Greg sent me a link to this video. It's a commercial for a German energy company called Epuron. It won an award at the International Advertising Festival in Cannes like a year ago or something. My professional opinion: I think it's a cute commercial!






The semester has begun. My classes don't seem too difficult so far, just very heavy homework loads. I will hopefully be able to manage it... however, I doubt I'll have the time to work on CR. I want to, but I really shouldn't... I'll see how I feel when auditions roll around.

Dream Writing...

So, last night I had more bizarre dreams. First, I had to fight some dude in the ghost level of Mario 64; he was a villain based off some sort of Beanie Baby. Then I was on a train playing bad video games with Jon (who just happened to be on the same train as me to get somewhere else) and some random woman he was sitting next to. Then we were at a carnival still playing bad video games; one was called "Angels v.s. Predator" and was about Charles Angel's versus... Predator. And it turns out that the video game was based on a book, and Lucy Lu was there doing book signings on it. Everyone went inside to get one, there was also some other sort of event going on in the building, but in order to get in you needed a signed book. Which cost $17, which I didn't find out till I got to her. I had been the last in line (as usual) so everyone else had already paid and gone in. I just turned around and went back inside. At some point before then, I had said jokingly that my goal in life was to write an awesome book that got made into a really bad video game. For some reason, I meant it seriously in the dream and starting thinking of ways to turn the carnival we were at into a bad video game. Then I got an actual idea for a story and sat down on a bench to write it down in the notebook Andy gave me from China.
Then I woke up and I still remember the idea I had and if I work on it, it's pretty good.

Wish it hadn't happened at the end of the summer, though!

Time to pack, as I'm moving back to the dorm TOMORROW, WOO!

Fall Semester Resolutions

Just to help encourage me, and to help me keep my head on straight!

1. Keep a planner with assignments, meetings, exams, etc. up-to-date.
2. Actually use the aforementioned planner
3. Keep up with class readings; don't say "oh, I can finish this tomorrow before class..."
4. Study for exams. Word is, that helps.
5. Go to office hours for at least one class at least every other week!
6. Don't sign on for any extra CAP obligations.
7. Practice Photoshop, learn Illustrator.
8. Be more optimistic; not everyone secretly hates you.
9. Make friends in class. It's not that hard, right?
10. Quit smoking!!!
11. Buy a bike.
12. No more C's!
13. Don't take naps. They feel great, but that's how you end up skipping class...
14. DON'T SKIP CLASS! Short of hospitalization, no reason is as good as you convince yourself it is.
15. Hit the gym once in a while, Tubs.
16. Don't waste money on silly things.
17. Okay, don't waste too much money on silly things.
18. Go bed at decent hours!



In other news, I watched They Live the other day and it was awesome. I also watched the most recent live-action Peter Pan, which was positively adorable. Tonight I watched Sudden Manhattan at Brandon's; it was weird and had a lot of completely pointless lines and characters in it, and nothing was really made clear. I enjoyed watching it, but I don't think it's too good of a movie. I want to finish watching Smiley Face.
I move into my dorm Monday... can't wait to get back to school for the year!

Sexy Time

Jon and I are hosting an orgy.
Be. Pre. Pared.


It will be awesome.

America 20XX

What have I been up to these last 4 months?
Here. Let me show you.

iDol relates to us better.

Always trust the dying. Now matter how gay they seem. Especially if it's in the script.

Drink lots of milk. It's good for you, so you can flex as well as possible!

The U.S. Constitution is pure of heart.

Take that, Interstate Commerce!

Ultimate Super-Couple.

the Power Patriots in America 20XX: the Right (Invisible) Hand of Capitalism

Curiosity peaked? Check out the America 20XX website for show dates and ticket information.

More Night Time Madness

So last night, I dreamed that a Hijinks-like show was going on. I remember going to rehearsal with Jon, Greg, and Dave. I think other WH people were there, but I only remember them. I guess because I've been seeing them so much due to the play and such. Anyway, I remember we were at a performance and afterwards we drove to a store to get things, I am guessing it was a liquor store. And Jon was talking about how he had a dream that previous night where he met some mega hot chick and crazy stuff happened (perhaps he mentioned a dream because we've both been talking about how we have crazy dreams, lately?). A car pulls in in the next to us and some mega hot chick, who was exactly the girl in his dream, gets out of the car and walks into the store. Jon doesn't say anything, but just gets out of the car and hurries in. I see him talking and flirting with her through the window, but because I'm under 21 I can't go in and do anything. I get out of the car really angrily and walk to Greg and Dave's house. They live on the second floor of a super nice house in the dream (as opposed to the first floor of a pretty decent house) and below them is a bunch of guys who are drug dealers. I pass them closing a deal as I go inside Greg and Dave's and then just sit around their empty house, really upset that Jon left me. I take out his bowl and stuff, which he'd asked me to carry, and sat in their apartment smoking by myself.
I heard someone walking up the stairs talking and it was Dave and Greg, cause I could hear them through the door, talking about how Jon went home with that other girl.
Then I woke up cause my alarm went off.

Not a very good dream.

Strange Dreaming...

I already had a brief post of my weird dreams in my livejournal, but it's starting to get ridiculous. After Jon said he's also been having odd dreams, I have to wonder if there's just something in the water down in New Brunswick or something. I very rarely remember my dreams, and when I do I forget the details really quickly. However, though my memories of these recent dreams are highly fragmented, if anything that lends to the sense of oddness around them.
I had one dream that featured the members of CAP about 20 years from now. In this alter-reality dream-world, we had pulled off some kind of heist years previous and then went our seperate ways. Holly was managing some kind ballet theater but also running a massive drug ring... I stole money from her via blackmail I think. I remember a part of the dream where I was clutching the money and pointing a gun at her while I slowly backed out of the building we were in (her theater). Jon and I had broken up in the dream, and he'd married Emma and they had a daughter with outrageously curly (but also absolutely adorable) blonde hair. I guess blonde cause Emma's in dyed that color-- since neither of them are blondes. I think also met Greg for lunch at some kind of mall-esque food court in the bottom floor of a hotel, but then realized I was being tailed by whatever enemies I had in the dream and there was a chase scene.

Another dream involved a war in a marsh lands, in which everyone lived, and we were evacuating on rafts. My Uncle Chris was there, whom I haven't seen for several years, which was odd; though he works in the military so maybe that's why he was in a war-dream. Anyway all I really remember of that dream was that there were planes flying overhead and an explosion and the raft rocked really hard, knocking Uncle Chris off and into the water. The raft wouldn't stop to get him and I couldn't reach him/pull him up. I remember thinking how it was all my fault, and how my mom was going to yell at me so much for losing him (weird that I imagined her yelling, as Chris is my father's sister's husband, so I imagine that side of the family would be far more angry).

Another dream was also water-bound, but I remember so little of it. Something about dolphins. And a train that went over the water-- it reminds me of the train from Spirited Away.

Last night I had a dream where I was arrested for some sort of parking ticket(?) and sentenced to 2 years in prison. It was a pretty nice prison though. White plaster walls, good lighting... We wore our own clothing. One entire wall was nothing but bars and the door, and that was pretty much the only normal thing about it. Everyone was also really nice; it had a feeling between prisoners that was reminiscent of a sleep away camp. Jon had also been arrested for something, I don't know what but he was there in the cell either across from me or next to me, I don't remember. But I do remember that he broke out and escaped, but left me behind. At one point he snuck back into the jail with Lauryn (my older sister) in order to visit me and all the prisoners he'd made friends with. He refused to break me out, though, because he said he'd been so successful and living secretly as an escaped convict and he told me it would ruin everything if he broke me out too. I was really upset by that of course, and when I started crying and begging him to break me out he left and there was this whole dramatic dream scene that involved me reaching through the bars after him while he walked away as I dropped to my knees with a forlorn "Nooooooo!" My cell mate comforted me, which was nice of her.
There was a part of the dream where I got to go outside and walk in a forest; the idea of it actually reminds me now of Cinderella 2000 when she goes out into the forest... without the sketchy space Fairy Godfather and giant rabbit sex and stuff. It was like, if you get enough merits for good behavior or something you can go outside. I remember I had been given a notebook by someone I met out there and was so happy to be able to write that I spent the whole time in the forest sitting and writing. Then when I had to go back to the jail, they wouldn't let me keep the notebook and I was so upset. I remember sitting at a desk while they processed me back inside or something, crying and begging them to just let me have the notebook.
I think I woke up around then, but I'm not sure; there may have been more, but that's the most vivid memory of any of my recent dreams I have.


What's going on in my head?

Batspices!

I just had a dream where I was in Dark Knight. But since I have gone out of my way not to know anything about the movie, the scene of course made no sense.
I was in a gigantic factory with Batman and other people and the Joker was making Batman succeed at all these weird challenges.
I don't remember the set up, but all I know is I got crushed beneath an obscene weight of cinnamon, under a door, while holding Batman's hand and yelling that he had to promise not to leave without me.

Wtf.

A Song Featuring My Self Esteem

"I am wrecked, I am overblown.
I'm also fed up with the common cold.
But I just hate to say goodbye
To all the metaphors and lies
That have taken me years to come up with...

Says it's true; say you like me (I like you)
Just for the night, for me it's been eternity.
And as I gently sip this drink
I think about my lack of future
And all the places I could learn to fall in love.

I know I shouldn't waste my time
Wishing I'd been better designed,
Yet for some reason still think

I am wrecked, I am overblown.
I'm also fed up with the fucking common cold.
When I want to feel alive
For the first time in my life
I just want to feel attractive today..."

- Motion City Soundtrack

As the next installment of my Me-Soundtrack, I think it's pretty self explanatory, though one of the reasons I chose this song to represent my self-image qualms is because I connect it to the friend who first played it for me; not due to the lyrics really, but due to the memories I have of amazing conversations with my Skeletal Structure sister(you know who you are!).

Self esteem issues in a young adult American female!!?!
Wtf?!

It's Like a Muse Slapped Me in the Face

I have some ideas to start writing about. I hope it works out... I haven't had story inspiration in years! I was inspired by someone I know over the course of a week vacation in Wildwood. He self-published a book and it's doing alright for a self-published book; I read a few passages and holy crap. I wrote better than that when I was in seventh grade. Well, I wrote about the same back then; my writing has certainly improved. Especially since I know a lot more about how books are structured than I ever used to.
I think I'm going to dredge up a novel I did finish writing (several years ago). It was terrible, but I think I'm going to take the story and alter it a bit... well, alter it a lot. Whole new plot, characters, style... just some things I want to keep.

I also came up with lots of ideas for my zombie movie, with much help from my friend Lyndsey.
I am stoked to get some writing done in the next few days!

You know, Donald, I used to be a dancer...

I have some time to kill while I wait for the shower to be free, so I figured I'd post song number three.

"Never Been to Spain" by Three Dog Night.




This song was first discovered by my friends and me in eleventh grade, when Mr. Downey (the best English teacher I've ever had) had us watch Scotland, PA after reading MacBeth. It stands to be one of my favorite movies ever still.
For me, being in eleventh grade English Honors was a huge deal, and the most academically exciting thing for me up to that point in life. You see, previously I'd been placed in the regular CP level English and to word this as politely as I can, I'll just say that it was filled with morons. And I mean morons. One girl, in a tenth grade English class, was reading out loud one day and pronounced the word "yacht" as "yat-chet."
I needed out.
More than simply being stuck with idiots that drove me insane, English was my favorite subject (save for photography when I took it). I was still writing then, often. I cranked out poetry and stories like a machine... man, I miss those days.
Anyway, I requested to be moved in English Honors. I had straight A's in English, my placement testing scores were in the 99th percentile. I belonged there.
I needed my current English teacher to sign a slip saying that I was up to par for EnglishH. I'd had the same teacher for freshman and sophomore year, who constantly praised my lack of retardation in comparisson to that of my class mates. I went to ask her to sign the slip and she said she would love to, and thought I really did belong in the honors class... "but if you do poorly, it'll be on my head."
So she didn't sign it.
And the school decided they wouldn't allow a parental override for me (while I know one other girl who had the same exact problems I did, but they let her in without a problem). Instead, they told me to right an essay. It could be on anything I chose and as long as I wanted.
I churned out an eight page essay about the different European myths that Tolkien based the Lord of the Rings on. It was awesome.
Instead of welcoming me joyously into the honors class, they accused me of plagiarism because "it was just too well written."

I know: isn't that sort of the point?

Well, I managed to get them to let me write another fucking essay. This time, they gave me a topic based on books we'd read in class and I had 45 minutes to write it. And my current English teacher had to watch me write it.
After writing a kick ass essay about Atticus Finch (To Kill a Mockingbird) and John Proctor (the Crucible) in which I managed to quote them exactly without the book there, they decided my skills "would do" for English Honors.


I had to fight so much and went through a lot of bullshit red tape that existed only for me in order to get into English Honors my junior year. And it was totally worth it.
I had class with my friends, which was nice. But the best part was I had great teachers for the next two years; Mr. Downey was amazing, and Mrs. Fernicola was just as fantastic. But Mr. Downey will forever my favorite because he was my rescue ship after years trapped on a desert island with morons.
When I hear this song, I remember junior year English class, and though it may be weird, I get very happy. I am reminded of the first time I ever really tried for something and succeeded, even after so many setbacks.
I wonder if I still have that determination somewhere in me? I haven't seen it again since.

A Brilliant Man

"I thank you for hearing my words...
They're my work, they're my play, they're my passion.
Words are all we have, really."

- George Carlin
1937-2008

Believe, believe in me...

You may have gathered from the fact that I rarely post here but am now posting twice within two hours that I am quite bored. Which would be an accurate observation.
I'm in my house after a lovely weekend with Boy and am already counting the hours before I can return. Mostly to see him again and also mostly to get the fuck away from my parents. You can figure out the math of having two "mostly's" in a single sentence.
Anyway, all I really have to do right now is to gorge myself on M&M's and Jelly Bellies from my cousin's wedding while I listen to my iTunes and contemplate watching Funny Games, though I don't really want to watch it by myself. As a result of this boredom and newfound ability to use Imeem correctly, I decided to make a playlist only with songs that describe my personality, an event I went through, or contain so sort of significance to me.
The play list is 30 tracks, and I will try to put one track up here every now and then as well as some sort of description about why it's on this play list. It's not in any real order, and I may change it as time goes on, but I tried to more or less put them chronological order of my life (while still trying to make the tracks run into each other relatively smoothly... I mean, having Iron & Wine being followed by Circa Survive is a bit jarring, y'know?)

At any rate, the first song on my list has already been discussed briefly in my last post; "Tonight Tonight" by the Smashing Pumpkins. Because of that, I'll blabber on some more and give the second song on my list.
When I was little, probably about second grade, my older sister ripped a Hanson CD from my hands and handed me Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness by the Pumpkins. While it's certainly not their best album, it is my favorite. I always have a special place in my heart for the first songs I hear by an artist. My first Pumpkins exposure was "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" (unless you count Lauryn singing "We Only Come Out at Night" to me in the dark with a creepy voice). In high school my senior year, it was a mandatory project that all senior's make a "Senior Scrapbook" in their English classes. I was lucky and my AP English teacher was mad chill about them; all she did was say we needed a certain number of pages and different topics in it and that was all. My good friend Aleks had the good idea of making the first page of her book the lyrics to a song that was important to her. She chose "Back in Black" by AC/DC (for damn good reasons) and after much deliberation I decided to copy her idea and use "Tonight Tonight." One of the best songs by my favorite band, with lyrics that perfectly describe the sensation I had leaving high school and moving onto the college. I mean, come on:

"Time is never time at all,
You can never ever leave
Without leaving a piece of youth.
And our lives are forever changed,
We will never be the same;
The more you change the less you feel."


If those lyrics don't provoke a sense of a fear of time, of aging, of leaving everything and everyone you have ever known behind you to move onto your next stage of life, I don't know what would.
I love this song so much.

So, I'm sitting here listening to the newest Girl Talk album, which rocks, and have decided I wanted to conform to Jon's blog and post a playlist! This is just a random list I made one day when it was gorgeous out and I was lazing around my room with sunlight streaming through the window... it was good to listen to then and I hope you like it to. And by you I really mean Jon, since he's the only one who reads this thing.

In other news, I'm trying to seriously think of ideas for a zombie movie. Fortunately I am taking a screen writing class in the fall and get to write a movie script about whatever I damn well please. And I suspect that I will damn well please write about zombies.

Brrraaaaaaaiiins!

I've never been huge into zombies. I mean, I fucking love Shaun of the Dead, and I always enjoy the classics like Evil Dead... but I've never been one of the people who are literally prepared for a zombie apocalypse, with exit strategies and survival bunkers in their basement. I know people like that, and let me tell you those psychos are scary.
But a few days ago, my friends Lyndsey and Brandon somehow started getting into an intense conversation about legislative zombie rights. They discussed the different possibilities about legal rights for zombies should there ever actually be an onslaught on the creatures on society. I was distracted by texting Jon at the time and could only half listen, or join into the conversation with a comment they already discussed or one that was utterly irrelevant. However, now that I am back home after a busy weekend of rehearsal and matrimony (my cousin, not me!) I've had time to sit and think about useless topics. So, while surfing the Grindhouse Pictures website, I decided to Wikipedia zombies (not sure why, I guess it was just the whole "horror movie" mindset). I've been getting more and more into the horror scene lately, a mixture of being back home and thusly on the look out for shitty horror films to watch as well as dating a hardcore horror-film buff, and it's getting to the point where I really want to write/be in a horror film. Preferably a terrible one, but if I ever have a chance to be in a good one I guess I'll take it, heh.
Anyway, as I Wikipedia'd "zombie" and followed the bajillion links from that single article, I wound up on a page discussing philosophical zombies, or p-zombies. And I think it just may be that I have found my calling in life. Or at least in the field of philosophy.
P-zombies deal entirely in thought experiments, and the questioning of whether or not physicalism is true. My thought processes when dealing with any sort of philosophy in regards to human beings, animals, plants, etc. boils down to sentience and the presence of the mind versus the presence of a body and what is or is not significant about those things. When arguing about pretty much anything from abortion to torture to the existence of pleasure and/or happiness, you have to decide where you stand in regards to the mental and the physical, their impact on the situation, whether one matters more than other if either matter at all, etc. etc. etc. Even as a child I remember contemplating an argument very similar to Decartes' in his Meditations (mind you that doesn't say much about Descartes if a seven year old is coming up with theories he thought to be groundbreaking), which brings into question the impact/existence of the mind over the body. And p-zombies is an entire field of philosophy that is pretty much dedicated to that!

I have also decided I really want to make a zombie movie which deals with p-zombies... perhaps some sort of post-zombie apocalypse film, when society has nearly attained total victory over the walking dead, and the few remaining zombies are being wrangled up by authorities. It could be awesome, perhaps some sort of radical zombie-rights group breaks them out and chaos once again ensues... I don't know, I literally just made that up now as I type. It's lame. But whatever, I have time to work on it, heh.

Zombies!

A Quick Lesson in Social Etiquette

Boys are assholes (not you, Sweetie).
This is generally widely accepted as fact, I know, but clearly some people have trouble understanding the concept of common, human decency and need to be reminded of it.

You do not hit on the best friend of a girl you just hooked up with.
It's simply not done.

For one thing, once a guy hooks up with a girl (any manner of hooking up; making out, fondling, sex, whatever) all of that girls friends are off limits. Only the bitchy ones would touch you after that, unless they didn't know. And let's face it; they'll know. We don't keep quiet about thing, for serious. And, if they did touch you after while knowing what went down, they would then be ostracized from that circle of friends afterward for pretty much all of eternity.
Another thing is, it is really just mind bogglingly rude to hit on someone after hooking up with a girl while she is still there. Even more important to understand is that you do not ask that girl about someone else. Especially her best friend. Any guy who does that is automatically labeled a douche bag, and I guarantee you won't be hooking up with that girl again; and probably not her friends once they find out (bitches who aren't really her friends are excluded from that probability, since odds are they're simply looking for a way out of that friendship to begin with).

I'm sorry this is such a random and incoherent entry, but I am literally shaking with rage right now over this.
URGH!

Or as J. Jaques says: "Aerodynamically Curvacous"

Not the most creative of the "motivational poster" themed pictures, but it made me happy to be reminded that not everyone is into stick-thin, anorexic toothpicks like the media constantly tells me.
Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go throw-up so I can rock my bikini at Wildwood in three weeks.

I'm Slow with Old Age!

Man. That whole "reading for pleasure" thing is amazing.
Although, the enjoyment I once got from sitting down with a good book is a bit marred now. I've grown a lot as a reader and a writer since my care-free days of reading Animorphs and Baby Sitters Club with blissful ignorance of structure and whatnot. Now, everything is too predictable. I pick out the choice of plot/character development the author is going with and then I figure out the whole story too quickly. I try not to; maybe that's why I read books so intensely. Try to not give myself time to think about it so maybe I can race my brain and be surprised by otherwise predictable plot-twists.
The other problem I have, is because I love fantasy so much and I'm such a geek, I am bored by any slow-paced explanations. For instance, I started reading Twilight by Stephanie Meyer yesterday (I finished it and read half of the second book, which I finished today... I am now half through the third). It's fantastic; I love her writing which is shocking because I normally hate stories told in the first person. But she does a good job (she's no Stephen Brust, but her narrative style is still pretty good). The characters are great. The story is fantastic; it's not super exciting to me though. That's only because I pretty much grew up reading Anne Rice and Laurell K. Hamilton novels, so the whole vampire-werewolf thing is dull to me.
Nothing super unique is out there, that I've found at least, so while the story is probably more exciting to someone less familiar with vampire-werewolf culture, to me it's a little old. I enjoy the way Meyer tells it, but it's not new, and that upsets me.
You see, I used to have such a clear, innocent pleasure in reading a book. I just liked escaping reality, dissociating into the fantasy worlds that I wished I could live in, filled with magic, vampires, elves, etc. All that good, geeky, Tolkien-y/Anne Rice-y stuff.
I used to stay up all night, not sleeping a wink for several days, to finish an entire series. I remember reading all of the Sweet Valley High books (I know, right?) in fourth grade in the span of days. A book a night. I used to not to be able to sleep unless I'd read, and I used to find it impossible, literally impossible, to stop reading until I finished the book I was reading. Seriously. I still get that compulsion now; I read Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in a straight 19 hours, non-stop. No food or anything. I used to read much faster... It's terribly embarrassing at this age to admit it, but from sixth until seventh grade I read one of the Harry Potter books every night. I have literally read some of them over a hundred times. I love reading series' over and over again because I always find something slight I missed the other times. I make new connections throughout each book in the series and I love it when that happens. That's another thing I adore Stephen Brust for; his plots, characters, histories, etc. are all so detailed and vivid and intricate. Every time I reread one of his books I make a new connection to something totally awesome in the story.
In case you didn't know/can't tell, Stephen Brust is my favorite author ever. Like, if I could read only one author for the rest of my life, it would be him, hands down.
Anyway, I was getting at complaining that my reading has slowed down considerably in recent years. I can still crank out a pretty heavy book in a single night, but it takes longer. It took me 8 hours to read roughly 700 pages, and back in middle school I easily could have read probably two or three hundred more than that.
I miss the days that all the stories were brand new to me, when nothing was old or over done. When I would lay in bed after finishing a book at four in the morning on a school night, and stay awake the rest of the night rereading the book in my head, but taking characters from the books I tried to write myself and sticking them into the plot. It was fantastic fun.

But I haven't had any new characters to do that with in years.
I have too many other, more adult-y things on my mind at night that keep me from sleeping, instead of simply using my hours to sleep bidding my time till I could go back to the computer and write more.
Now, I stay up all night unable sleep because Jon isn't there, or worrying about getting a job, whether to change my major, wondering what life would have been like if I had gone to American University like I was supposed to, wondering how I'll afford my medicine after I graduate, why my parents are the way the are and how it's affected me, trying to form a coherent career path, trying to decipher what I even want to make of myself... so many worries, fears, anxieties.
When I was a kid racked with insomnia, my thoughts were only filled with trying to think of cool names for the characters I'd made up earlier that day.


I miss those times. The days I didn't know any better.
The days I could write.
They were fantastic.

Mislabeled

I'm no music expert. I listen to a lot of music, but I'm actually fairly ignorant of much of it. I can recognize lots of famous songs when I hear them, and I know the choruses to many, but I have trouble naming them or their artists. I honestly blame it from growing up listening to my parents play records all the time. I'd hear the same songs over and over as a child, but never who they were sung by. For example, I knew the song "Mrs. Robinson" but I had no idea who it was by until probably junior year of high school. All I knew what my parents told me not to point out that there was a song with her name in it to one of the first grade teachers in my elementary school.
But since going to college, my taste in music has expanded significantly from just listening to the Smashing Pumpkins and Bjork. I've been trying to catch up on everything; classic rock songs I never knew the name of or the artist, 1990's pop/grunge songs everyone else knew because they listened to the radio growing up while I shunned it and just played Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness or Les Miserables on repeat. That sort of thing. I missed out on a pop culture childhood because I was too busy trying to impress my older sister.
Anyway, this whole rambling entry was originally just going to be me posting this and commenting on how, while I'm not a music expert, this list is more of a "100 Greatest Hits" than "100 Greatest Rock Songs." I mean, yeah, "Hotel California" is great and all, but I don't think it ought to be placed in a list of the best 100 rock songs. It's a good song; but not one of the best. Or hell, "Stairway to Heaven" is rated number 1. Yes, it's a damn good song, but not the best rock song. Zeppelin's got other songs that are better than it; but not as famous (then again, all Zeppelin songs are pretty much greatest hits far as I'm concerned).

This entry was most likely brought to you by the letter I, for Insomnia.
...which I am fairly certain is not common for those inflicted with mono, so I am confused but also joyful, since that might mean I don't have it.

Sex and (a little bit of) the City

So, tonight I decided to give my ovaries a treat and go see the Sex and the City movie with my older sister, Lauryn. I know, right? Sisterly bonding time was held before hand. We dished out our latest man-gossip (I only had good things to say about you, Jon, don't worry!) over sushi from Whole Foods, and we sat in Edgewater (at the edge of the water) and overlooked the City skyline we were about to pay $11 to see on a giant screen.
It was mostly worth it.
The build up for the show has been the media focusing mostly on their amazement to realize that girls want to see the movie in groups. Oh God! I never could have surmised that myself.
And that sort of irks me. I didn't go in a group. Actually, I know two other people who went in pairs to see it (I mean, they went with their significant others, but still. Not a group.). The show did pretty remarkable things for women in terms of entertainment; it focused entirely on women, and focused a lot on sex. And let's face it; a lot of people still see sex as sort of a taboo thing for women to openly discuss. Lots of women do, but they also tend to get a lot of shit about it. A guy talks about some one night stand he had and he's awesome. A girl does that, and she's a slut. The show sort of encouraged girls to be more open about their sexuality with the sentiment "hey, if girls can talk about it on TV, why can't you talk about it in real life?" That's not a philosophy I normally believe for myself, but that's how society tends to work. If it's on TV, it's okay.
At any rate.
The movie itself was pretty much a giant glob of five episodes of the show, which is what I expected it to be. I mean, how else could they have done it? What made the movie enjoyable to me was the experience of seeing it with my older sister. The movie as a movie was far too long and predictable because, yeah, it was four and half 40-minute episodes in a row without commercial breaks. Half the time I was mentally putting in the ending credits where they will be when the movie undoubtedly is released in on television.
But it wasn't so much the fact that "ohmigawd I love this show, I'm so psyched it's a movie now!" that made me like it; though judging from the rather obnoxious applauding, gasping, "you go girl!"-ing, and chatter going on the entire time through out the theater, that's what most people were excited about.
I didn't even start watching the show until about two or three years ago, when TBS started to show it once a week. I used to sit in the living room with Lauryn and we'd take over the TV to watch it together. We'd spend the commercial breaks and sometimes hours afterwards to talk about our latest guy-gossip. For her, it was a chance to talk to me about her boyfriend and any issues going on. For me, it was a chance to gripe about the latest boy who screwed me over somehow.
Hell, it was sort of therapeutic. And I acknowledged that at the time.
We'd watch the episodes and remark on the hideous outfits, on the completely unrealistically hot guys these relatively average (or ugly) girls always dated, and could always identify with them when shit went bad. I mean, that's the real hook of the show, isn't it? Four strong independent women in New York City struggling for love; getting dumped, tricked, lied to, sometimes doing the tricking and the lying themselves... but then, ultimately, it's a happy ending.
For me, it was almost punishment. I'd had pretty terrible luck in the dating department my entire life (till now!), and I liked the show when the characters were getting screwed over, because I could identify with that. Once the happy endings started happening, the show only upset me because it set unrealistic standards as far as I was concerned. I needed the show to have some unhappy endings, because I was tired of hoping for a happy one for myself. Hell, I'm still a pessimist at heart; even at my happiest, I'm braced for disaster to try and soften the blow when it comes.
But I would watch the show once a week with her, with my big sister, and she'd talk and help me with all those problems. I needed that time with her, and as lame as it is that a TV show is what got me to have it, that's how it played out. And I'm grateful for it.
I've been so busy since going to college, and Lauryn's been so busy since moving away from home and beginning her life in that murky and shadowy Real World I dread entering in a few years, we don't get to have the regular sisterly bonding time I came to rely on so much. But the movie coming out gave us a big night to set aside for it. We had dinner, time to sit and talk and relax with each other and discuss everything on our minds lately. Then, there was a movie, which gave us more to discuss afterward.
I loved the movie, and not because of the movie at all. I loved it because of the company, and the time that we were both able to set aside, to splurge some of our hard-earned and oughten't be spent money, and talk.


Man, I am so lame and cheesey lately, it's ridiculous.
This was originally going to be a sort of review of the movie, and I guess in a way it is. Nothing ever ends up how I want it to when I write.
It looks like the entry I started at the beginning but then it changes. It gets lost somewhere in the middle. In the forest.
Heh.

Time to Lay on Some Cheese... Deal with it, everyone.

I enjoyed last weekend so much; and I can't wait until later today.
We weren't rushed to get to shows, rehearsals, classes, etc. as we have been the last few months. I feel like I've never really been able to enjoy a vacation before now. Every day I'm stuck at home, I am counting down till I see you again rather than counting away days of my life.
I've become increasingly self-aware the last few months. I've been changing a lot; not so much changing as maturing, really. I'm finally beginning to understand what I believe in so many things; how I want to live my life, why that is, my flaws, how to fix them, what I consider most important in life, how I wish I was perceived and it's relation to how I am perceived... it's odd.
That one afternoon in April, where we were all contained in our minds changed me so much and so subtly, but thanks to that day and this absurd self-awareness, I am detecting it. I don't know if anyone else has or even can.
I'm still a mess inside, but I feel good. Most of the time.
I've been saying to you and a few others (but I feel like the world can tell) how lucky I am, how worried I feel that this luck will run out and I'll be left without you. I can't shake that worry because I know if I ever lose it completely, it will happen and I don't want to end this happiness.



I never really understood how happy another person could make me, or how anyone could ever love me. I still don't quite understand that last part, but I believe it; and I'm starting to understand the first... I started understanding it just two months ago.

You make me
so happy.

Home Sweet Home...?

I'm home for summer now... already it's beginning to grate my nerves; my parents were arguing within the time it took my dad to take his coat off when he got home. At least my mom is sober; that's always the worst part. But all in all tonight has been okay... then again, it's still early so maybe I shouldn't I shouldn't jinx it.
Tomorrow I head back to school for two exams; both of which I am in all likeliness failing miserably. This was a terrible semester for me... I know it looks like I'm just lazy (skipping classes, not doing assignments, etc.) but that's not the case. I've just been losing all ambition to do anything these days... I mean, when I'm depressed and lethargic I can understand my inability to concentrate or care about grades. When I'm anxious you would think I do better, but I fear the imminent failure and can't even try to do a task I know I won't succeed at. If ever there is a time where depression and anxiety aren't inhibited my studies, I still can't focus because I still know I'll fail at them. I'm really not that smart, not academically at least. I have a lot of common sense, and know a lot about random things, but sitting and studying and listening to lectures... I just can't do it. I need to be doing something. Anything.
The more I think about it, the more art school seems like a good choice for me.
Yeah, a good portion of it is still sitting in class listening. But not all of it; there are parts where I get to create, and make things. I don't know what I want to do after college, but I know whatever it is must consist of making things.
I'm pleased with my theater participation the past year, actually. I was in Comic Relief, I applied for and was accepted to Wacky Hijinks. I've made some fantastic friends in CAP and have learned a lot. I know more about putting on a play than I ever thought I would, as well as about writing them. I may try my hand at directing next year. I became much more social; I have an easier time meeting new people now than I used to. Hell, I ever scored a boyfriend out of the whole ordeal. Now I'm getting ready for another play to put on in August at FringeNYC, which I am really excited for...

Ah, it's time for me to start studying for serious; I've been half-ass studying all day, time to get cracking.

Ch-ch-changes

I've grown so much in the last few months... I mean, it really started over the summer. But this last semester is when it's really started to show.
I think I've changed for the better. I can only hope so.
I've been so lucky lately.
My friends are amazing. I've had such a great time... I may not be doing well academically. I may still be depressed a lot. I have no idea what to do with my life...
But I still know and remember I have people who love me. I don't get angry as easily as I used to. My spiritual/religious beliefs feel the most stable now than ever before, and that makes me feel good. I've managed to wrangle me the sweetest boy ever, and I have no idea what I did to deserve such luck.


I've changed a lot.
I think it's been for the best.
I'm becoming who I want to be; someone I can be happy with being.
I'm gradually becoming less ashamed of me... that's a huge thing for me.
As I said, I'm still struggling with my crazies, and with really accepting some things in my life... but I know what I have to work on and I'm starting to do the things needed to work on them.

This summer will show me if those changes I've made will stay or not... I hope they do. Because even when I'm sad now, I have some strength to fight it and become happy again on my own.
That's huge for me...


I think, whatever I chose to do with life, I can manage it as long as I can remember this moment.
And if I still have someone I love to turn to in them... and with friends like those I have, I don't think I'll ever really be alone.

Acid Sketch (as done by e.e. cummings)

letters from the now
[from the past of
now before here]
drip across bright air
to crawlupontheharshrug
lost in tinder walls
t o w e r—
—ing—.
the here of ink and sheets
changes not at the start
but not
(at the end)
lost there… lost you…
you! dare to slither
across my letters now

here…

finishing all words:

youtheyweus

must

leave.

--------------------------------------------
I apologize for the depressing post last night.
I was in a bad place for a while, but talking to my surrogate brother helped a lot...
We talked about religion, spirituality... our psychological troubles. Especially the latter.
I plan to start seeing someone over the summer. One of my sisters spoke to my mom about it because I couldn't... I'm glad she did. I need it.
I feel better today. My grandma is having the surgery done here at home rather than in Florida... I think she's going in tomorrow instead of today. I am keeping my fingers crossed and am praying to anyone who will listen for her health. My mom chickened out of bringing Sinte to the vet, thank goodness. I am hoping she'll at least be able to hold off until I go home; I want to give her at least one last hug and kiss before she's gone.
My first final is tomorrow. I should really study but I'm not. I'm sort of giving up on school... even when I do study, I do terribly, so why bother? I could spend that time much more productively... like by trying to fix my frigging camera! It's jammed or something and I can't advance the film... dammit. I really want to take pictures with it; it's a Nikon FG (a manual film camera originally released in 1982... it's older than me!).
There's a billboard by the train station I really want to photograph. It's old and torn and looks rather creepy. I also think it's a pretty good representation of New Brunswick... surrounded by development and state of the art buildings, it's left there to fall apart and decay where everyone can see it, but no one looks. Pay attention to beauty, and ignore the ugly.
That's life, I suppose. I'm trying to change it, though.
I think it's impossible, but everyone needs a hope to cling to, right?


Sorry. I'm rambling now.
I want it to be the weekend...

I'm My Own Worst Enemy

"Once in a while your life gets so good
Worth all the trouble of the past
That was the case but I think I always knew
Good things don’t ever last..."
- Eels



It's been a rough day.
My grandmother had a stroke a few days ago.
She's doing well but needs heart surgery that she's getting done tomorrow...
It's relatively safe, but she's old and nothing is ever sure.
In addition to that, my parents are bringing my dog into the vet to be put down
as well.
My dog, Sinte, is 14 years old. I've had her since I was in the first grade...
I love my pets. They're family to me.
My cat Maya died over the summer and I still miss her when I'm home...
I always expect to hear her paw at the door, or to jump onto my bed and curl up
purring in the most inconvenient spot, so I have to sleep around her in an
uncomfortable position.
I can't imagine how weird it will be to come home without Sinte barking at the
door and trying to smell me.
Finals are coming. I'm failing at least one class.
I've been so depressed the last few weeks for no reason. Everything was going
fine and I was still depressed.
Now, my grandmother is sick, my dog is dying, and I've completely fucked up the
one thing that's been giving me any joy over the last month and a half.
This why I shied away from psychology. All I ever want to do is help those I love...
and I can’t.
You can't help everyone; and I tend to make things worse when I try to.
I don't know why I try anything any more...
It's all I really want to do, and I can't do it.
And I can't handle failing at that.
I fail at everything else, I can't stand failing those I love.

I feel dead inside.

May Day

Happy Beltane, everyone! :D
I wish I could get my hands on some meade to celebrate...
Instead I'm just skipping classes to see my beloved friends all day.
It's a day to celebrate life, meant to be relaxing and joyful... so that's what today will be.
No worrying or thinking about school, just for today; I can go back to freaking out after midnight.


My only wish is that it would be sunny outside...

Photo

I like working with black and white...
Lauryn is bringing her camera when she comes to see Hijinks on Saturday...
Man. I'm not going to study at all for finals; I'll be too busy sneaking into Mason Gross' darkroom to develop...
BWAHAHA.

Just Like We (Breakdown)

(An absolutely absurd rant at the peak of another anxiety attack. Enjoy.)

I have no idea what I want to do with my life. Absolutely none.
It's terrible; I know I have time before I graduate and everything, but I need a plan. I can't have no direction... it leaves me feeling anxious and nervous all the time, or it leaves me utterly empty and unable to get myself to do work.
I can't focus in class, I can't get motivated to do my work (or even go to class most of the time). The only thing motivating me is the fear of my parents murdering me when they see my grades... and even that isn't even enough to get my ass into gear.
I want to do something for me with my life.
I give a lot to others already... I drop everything I'm doing to go help my friends. I've gone without sleeping in order to help them. I've skipped tests in order to give them a shoulder to cry on. I'm not complaining about it... but I feel like I'm not good at school. It's not for me. I love learning, but I love doing it on my own, in my own way. Sitting in classes, writing papers, listening to lectures... it doesn't teach me anything at all. I can't concentrate.
I want to create. I want to do photography... something about being able to freeze a moment in time forever, on glossy paper in black and white shades makes me smile.

Can't I do something with my life that's just for me?
It's selfish, yes... but I don't know.
I already feel plagued with other peoples problems. Don't think I don't want to help anyone anymore... on the contrary, my friends are my life. Without them, I'm nothing. Worthless. Nonexistent.
But I feel like I need to spend my time focusing on something that makes me happy, that I enjoy... because all my free time otherwise is spent trying to appease others, be they friends, family, or complete strangers.

You only live once.

...okay, so I believe in reincarnation, but I believe each incarnation is it's own life. You learn things you need to in each life, and take those lessons onto all your others until you reach what I can only refer to as a zen state. However, each incarnation you have must be spent trying to learn all you can in that time. I don't mean material knowledge. I mean learning about yourself.
Sounds lame and cliche, but I don't really care. The soul is immortal and it essentially is you. The you of today is who you were yesterday and in all other lives; an accumulation of all life lessons and experiences.
Grades, test scores, classes... I really don't think they matter in the grand scheme of things. Your happiness does: and I loathe how society forces you to do things that inhibit that happiness from growing.
Jobs, taxes, insurance... it's absolutely absurd.
People wonder why depression rates are soaring, violence is rising, and the economy plummeting.
We poison life with worries, anxiety, stress... no one is ever able to be utterly and completely happy with their life, and so much negativity ruins the balance.
Sure, I believe their must be an equal balance of the bad with the good. But there is too much bad these days. Too much stress, worrying... no one is completely happy. Everyone constantly has something to worry about, something irking them, something holding them back from that much desired self-actualization. Maybe it's material, maybe it's psychology, maybe it's physical... but "it's" there.
And "it's" driving me insane!



I just want to be happy.
I want a simple life to live; a comfortable home, work I enjoy that let's me be artistic and gives me freedom, someone I love, a pet. That's it, really.
My parents won't support me. And I need their support. Nothing I ever do or say can get them to understand it, and it drives me insane.
Another instance of me having to please someone else.
I've led my entire life up to this point trying to make my parents happy... can't I live the rest of it in a way that makes me happy?

I suppose that's what this all boils down to.
My parents.
They're more supportive than some parents of me, but they still keep me back so much.
They've raised me to constantly worry, be paranoid, never fully trust anyone... to think that education is the most important thing in life, and without it you can't be successful; which is the only other thing more important.
They also raised me to help others, which I do.
They raised me to think for myself, which I do.
They raised me to constantly fear disappointing them, like all parents raise their children to do...

Which I do.



It's funny how they raised me to be both an individual and their puppet.
I wish they would let me cut the strings; I need to do what I want to do now, and not what they want me to...
But I just can't.

You keep asking...

So here is a direct copy + paste of my latest livejournal entry.

"The show is looking better now... it's a relief, I'll tell you.
I'm looking forward to a summer of working, weddings, Wildwood, and visiting Jon here in the Brunz.
It is now officially our one month anniversary! That's pretty much twice the length of any other relationship I've had...
Maybe it was good that I had such horrible luck until now. I appreciate him so much more than I may otherwise have.
And even then, I think I'd have still been utterly head-over-heels."



<3

Ominous Cards

I did a tarot reading for myself last night...
The ring, the coffin, the sun, the key, the book, the child, the road.
The ring means a relationship (friend or romantic). The coffin means illness. The sun mean positivity and optimism. The key means answers. The book means the unknown. The child means a child. The road means a trip or a metaphorical journey.
I put the reading to mean that trouble in a relationship will be overcome. The process of overcoming that trouble will answer some sort of question I have regarding a new journey I'm on (I think in the metaphorical sense rather than the literal sense).
There are several possibilities I foresee this involving; the most obvious being something going awry but then being fixed in my relationship. The slightly less obvious involves one of my closest friends in the history of my life and a lot of trouble they are going through, and how it will affect me...

Okay, it's not quite an ominous card reading, as it seems like things will turn out well. But whenever the ring and coffin are together, I get worried; I've had some very terrible experiences with that pairing.
I need to not focus on it, I think... which means it will be all I can think about now.

My Official Favorite Song of Spring 2008

"I don't want to wonder if this a blunder
I don't want to worry whether we're going to stay together till we die
I don't want to jump in unless this music's thumpin
All the dishes rattle in the cupboards when the elephants arrive

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now (I want to love you)
I want to love you madly (wait)
I want to love you love you love you madly

I don't want to fake it, I just want to make it
The ornaments look pretty but they're pulling down the branches of the tree
I don't want to think about it, I don't want to talk about it
When I kiss your lips I want to sink down to the bottom of the sea

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now (yeah)
I want to love you madly (wait)
I want to love you, love you, love you madly

I don't want to hold back, I don't want to slip down
I don't want to think back to the one thing that I know I should have done
I don't want to doubt you, know everything about you
I don't want to sit across the table from you wishing I could run

I want to love you madly
I want to love you now
I want to love you madly (oh wait)
I want to love you, love you, love you madly"

- Cake

Let Hell Week Commence!

Though only two people bother to read this, I figured I ought to throw the trailer for Wacky Hijinks 2008 up here on the off-chance someone else sees it.




Tech week has begun for Hijinks now, which means I have even less of a social life than I did before. Well, actually I had a fantastic social life-- it has just been cut down to only Hijinks people. Which I'm fine with; but I feel I've been neglecting my Leupp friends for the last two months or so... hopefully with the show coming to fruition now, I'll be able to spend some time with everyone I want to.
I had to memorize a monologue from Merchant of Venice and recite it to my professor for my Shakespeare class. It was Portia's "the quality of mercy is not strained, it droppeth as the gentle rain upon the place below..." speech. I really loved that play, and that's a beautiful passage so I didn't mind too much. It took me about 25 minutes to memorize.
I went to my professor's office hours to present it to him. I did and he told me I did a great job and said I was a model student and have nothing to worry about for tomorrow's midterm. I feel ashamed, like I was lying to him; I haven't studied at all for it, and I must commit 70 individual events with their year of occurrence to memory. By tomorrow. With rehearsal tonight until forever-o'clock.
I'm an awful student and I feel terrible that he was led to believe that I'm not.
Also, it appears a webcomic is in the works for me, Jon, Andy and Zach. It would be really great if we actually carried it out, though I worry I won't be able to contribute too much to it; I'm not great at drawing or writing comics... I just wish I was.
There are a lot of things I wish I was.
In cheerier news, I love Jon. Just throwing it up here in case he reads it; plus I wanted something happy to write after the above self-deprecation. :)

Down the Rabbit Hole...

Yesterday was probably one of the most important days in my life, and if I didn't post the typical, pretentious, I-know-so-much-about-the-world-and-myself posts that such substances are wont to induce then my experience would not have been complete.
However, I'm not going to go on and on about how I realized that yes, the religious beliefs I've had since the sixth grade that we are all "one" with the universe are in fact true. I am going to go on about the fact that I learned so much about myself that I already knew; I rediscovered myself, I suppose.
I've always known that I have severe anxiety problems, coupled with very strong bouts of depression on a relatively regular basis. A terrible self esteem. Family issues galore. Fear of abandonment. I always thought I was whiny, annoying, unwanted by everyone, unintelligent, and a pessimist.
One of the many things I scribbled in that cherry red notebook, which stood out like a beacon to me the entire day, was "I learned I am an optimist." I can't recapture that euphoric moment when I realized it, but I suppose I am.
There are so many things I want to do, so many things I wish I was.
I can't do any of them, and I can't be anything. But I keep trying and I think what I realized when I wrote that was that if I keep trying I must hold out some little hope that it's possible. And I think that's optimism; as small and pale as that hope is, it's there.
It was like a therapy session; I remember sitting in that lawn chair looking through the posts of the porch at the sun moving through the sky and the colors of everything changing with it's motion and so many thoughts rushed through my mind. I remember thinking something about Freud and the thought "Oh, so this is the unconscious being made conscious..." struck me. I kept thinking of the word "collective unconscious" and acknowledging that it was the wrong word, and that Jung talked about that and not Freud, but I didn't care because it was just a name, which is just letters and and pictures and ideas, and a word can mean anything you want it to as long as it contains the idea you want it to contain.
I realized how much I rely on other people and how self contained I am. Andy said "we're all containers" and it's absolutely true, as silly as it sounds post-experience. I think the silliest things are also the most profound... perhaps that the pretentious philosophy major in me, though.
I was so aware yet so unaware of myself. It was amazing. I was so self conscious about what might turn the experience wrong for me and was very careful to avoid it. I always thought such self consciousness was a bad thing... but it's not. It's limiting and reduces my experiences with communicating my thoughts to any one. As the day went on and the intensity shifted from both body and mind to mostly mind I was able to relax more and enjoy myself and the company I was in. When Jon returned to himself I was so happy; I'd spent a lot of time worrying that he wasn't okay and that he would forget himself and forget me and I'd have try and teach him to love me again.


Ah, time to go prop shopping for Hijinks...
That was the most profound peanut butter and jelly sandwich I ever had.

Hier kommt die Sonne.

The weather is gorgeous once more... I wish I could enjoy it more. I was very irresponsible last night and hung out with some friends rather than study for the exam I had at 8:10 this morning. I went home around 2:45 in the morning and studied... for about twenty minutes before falling asleep, only to awake to the clock reading 7:46.
Panic ensued.
There is no conceivable way I passed that exam, and since I'm already doing terribly in the class, that is very bad news.
Something I whined about in the previously mentioned depressing post I never posted was my constant fear that I simply don't belong in college.
I'm not particularly smart; I'm not an idiot, but I'm certainly no genius. I'm a horrible student. I never study, I constantly skip classes, when i do go to class I spend the time completely zoned out (I daydream almost constantly; think of JD from Scrubs to get a sense of the manner in which I do it). I want to be smart. I want the knowledge that college offers, and I genuinely enjoy learning... but I can't focus on it. If it's something I am obligated to do, I lose interest instantly.

It's so immature and irresponsible and I hate it.

I wish I had the self discipline to study, pay attention, go to class... go home early the night before an important exam. But I really don't. Since coming to college, I've lost the drive and ambition I had to succeed in high school; and even back then, with ambition, I never did any work. I am fairly certain I only passed high school because the teacher's there were lazy and never actually graded anything properly. I have the problem of wanting to reach my goal but not wanting to do the work involved. It's so childish but I just can't motivate myself to work harder.



I mean, Jesus. I'm writing this post when I ought to be writing the essay that's due in ten hours...
Fuck me.

Do it.

Sunshine. Belle & Sebastian. Go listen. Now.
Two out of three classes were canceled today... I got lunch with Darya and my old friend Minh, and ran into Jon, J Mike, and Kayla unexpectedly so I sat with them awhile...
It's been a perfect day!
I have a midterm at 8:10 tomorrow morning, a paper due by midnight tomorrow night, and Hijinks rehearsal till God knows when tonight... it's going to be an all nighter, people. Urgh.
I want it to be Friday already!

Meet you at the statue in an hour...

I just wrote an extremely long, self pitying and depressing post. I am embarrassed that I nearly actually posted it...
So instead, here's a poem which is, as usual, heavily inspired by e.e. cummings:



trusting clouds that smile
from lofty sky(way)ward beds.
veins flow green and red
with chlorophyll and wine--
dreaming away displeasure

thereisnone

for yewyouewe keep at bay
cold winter...
for now.

fickle skies!
clouds drift together
lofty perches meshing, smiles can
twist to gristly illuminated grimaces
lacking warning... eweyewyou can call them
to/get/her in
merely a word a cry a glance smiling trusting;
it all
rains down, earth drinking my distilled chlorophyll
spilled by accident
spilled by you

Sugaree

My dorm faces George Street, and in 60 degree weather with the heaters still running, my roommate and I keep the windows open to the fresh New Jersey air and sounds of traffic.
A car stopped at the light outside just now and was blasting the Grateful Dead.
I think it was the first time I've ever heard good music blasted from a cars speakers besides my own, or a friends.
It was an exciting moment and I just wanted to share it with you.

Springtime

When it's sunny outside, listen to some Belle & Sebastian and go for a walk... you will never feel happier, trust me. I have done extensive research.

Narration One

For her, sometimes words seem like they can describe what you see and feel better than anything else. Photographs capture single moments... if taken properly, they can freeze time to a glossy sheet of paper and can convey the emotions of the moment for the rest of time. But that's difficult to do.
Words are even more difficult... and she treasures them more than anything.
Letters, symbols... concepts strung together that can convey moments if properly assembled. It's a matching game, and if done right she has a work to be proud of.
For years now, she stares at a blank computer screen waiting for inspiration. It rarely comes to her anymore.
As a child, she wrote constantly. Straining her eyes for hours, from after school until it was so late at night it was actually early in the morning, focusing only on the dim, yellow tinted computer screen in the dark basement by herself. Sometimes the cat came to keep her company, but for the most part it was only the crickets that evaded that very same cat. She didn't need any company, though. She had her stories. She had her characters.
She had few friends... really, only one. They wrote all the time and told each other stories. But really, all that she wanted, all that she needed were her own stories.
She wrote what she wished. It made everything in life better...
Now, though, she cannot write. No cohesive stories, at least. Poems every now and then, but they can't hold a candle the satisfaction she got from completing a chapter or a character outline. She writes random narrations of her life; she illustrates moments in her life, obscure chains of thought, in hopes that they will spark some of that brilliant creativity she once prided her self upon. They leave her feeling empty, hollowed out like a shell of her former twelve-year-old novelist self.
She has no place to let out her thoughts like she once could, and now they build up in her mind. Her life is the greatest story she has ever written, and she seems to have written it all out too soon... nothing is left in her, and the life she'll never lead is lost to nothingness, gone with the files of all her stories on that ancient, jaundiced computer.

a bit of late night free association

Sometimes my stomach twists itself into knots over nothing. Nothing at all. Someone could greet me, wave, ignore me... I could remember an assignment I have due the next morning. Any small, insignificant thing can so easily trigger a horrible string of fear and anxiety.
I don't know what it's like not to worry about something. Even when I'm the happiest I've ever been, when all is going right in life, I worry. I fret. I fear it will end and I'll never reach that state of being ever again. It holds me back. I'm always terrified of making a fool of myself. I hate phones because I get myself very anxious when I call someone; what if they don't answer? What if I get their voicemail? Do I leave a message... what do I say? What if they answer?! What if they don't recognize my voice? What am I calling them for, again?
When I don't have a definite plan for something, I get very nervous. If I don't know exactly where I am going, when I'll be there, who else will be there and who is getting there when, I can't relax. And even when I've all that information, I worry that something will change last minute.
I'd like to spend some point in time in my life without worrying about anything at all... I want to be utterly carefree and happy with my life.
But I also want telekinesis; and I think that's far more likely to happen for me.