I hate the way that the only time you feel this many things at once and realize that you're feeling them is when you're sad.
Good thing I have to take the PSATs in the morning.
To put it simply, this sucks.

I just applied for a job at Panera Bread.
Also, my Halloween costume is a flapper.

That's all.

It's 2:11 AM. I wish there was some way that when you couldn't sleep, someone else wouldn't be able to sleep with you. But unfortunately, the earth doesn't look out for you in this way. I watched Revolutionary Road twice, and finished two books. After this, I'll probably research for an English paper.
Sometimes, I think that if we slowed down enough, we could hear the Earth breathe. I swear, every once in a while, I can feel it turning. I know it's probably my imagination, but if you close your eyes, and sit very still, you can feel it. It's not some profound feeling. It's not magical, nor does it spark some sort of epiphany. But it's nice.
I wish there were a way to check if your head were properly screwed on straight. Sometimes I doubt mine is. I have these irrational fears. I find myself running down dark hallways at night, afraid of what could be chasing me, or flicking on the lights as fast as possible, with my heart pounding. I know it's silly. I have nothing to be afraid of. I just can't help that feeling, though.
Another thing I find interesting is the concept of the moon. We are all under the same one. Some of us stare at it; some of us barely even notice it. But everyone's moments where they see it all happen under the same moon. I sort of wish it could talk, and it could tell us some of the stories of what it's witnessed. I think the moon would be a fabulous person. Very calm, and wise, and full of life at the same time.

I feel as though my head will explode into eight hundred thousand tiny pieces if I hear one more syllable of yours. Tired tired tired. I'm frustrated, and you just plain suck sometimes.

I hate this feeling, when I'm not control of the situation. My limbs simultaneously tense up and loosen at the same time. My head spins and I feel like I'm swimming through tar. My chest tightens and my throat squeezes and my heart pounds. My eyes water. I can't help but cry; the tears just spill over. And I always find myself like this for the dumbest reasons, that I know aren't worth feeling like this. But I do.

I feel like I could be doing a much better job about posting on this blog. However, I think I've used up all of my words. Today, in English, I tried to write a paragraph about The Great Gatsby, and it was an assignment designed the way I like to write. And I sat and stared at the blinking cursor for at least five minutes. I never know where to start anymore. Beginnings are hard. Endings can be messy, yet they are also simple. Loose ends become tied up, and you're left with a clear image of results. Starting from scratch is the hard part.
I'm not sure where I'm going with any of this. I don't know what I want, or where I'm going. I often change my direction to accomodate others. I frequently see myself adapting and twisting and turning to fit my surroundings. I feel as though I'm made of Silly Putty, and people form me into whatever shape they want me to be in, and all I do is sit and allow it to happen. But to tell the truth, I don't know who exactly I am. I'm afraid to find out what's underneath all of these layers of other people who have shaped me. What would I possibly discover? And what if I don't like it?

Hello, again. I've been rather terrible about posting on here, as of late. I wish I could say that I've been too busy, but I haven't. I just haven't had much to say. I went to the first football game last night with Pat and some people, but we got there late, and then left early and went to Friendly's. I feel like I might be getting a little sick, just a scratchy throat and a little congestion, and a slight headache. I haven't really been doing anything out of the ordinary. Guitar lessons and Small Group (Chamber Choir) which just started.

I have to go watch Jake and go out with Jess. I'll be back.

I said I needed a change. However, cutting off around two inches of my own hair was not my wisest choice. I know hair grows, but I'm stuck with this for a while. I don't even feel any different. I still feel like something needs to change. I'm so bored with so many aspects of my life. I need some kind of excitement, to convince me it's all still real.

I just got back from Clue callbacks. Ahhh! Nerves.

"Truth is beautiful, without doubt; but so are lies." Emerson.

Don't get me wrong. I am happy. However, there's something under my skin, and I can't get it off my mind. It's beginning to consume my thoughts, and my body, twisting my brain as if wringing it dry, searching for more ways to send my head in wretched circles around the ideas that fall into the pit of my stomach like dead weight. It's manifesting under my skin, in my veins, threatening to explode any minute. And yet, the smile remains plastered to my face. A carefully carved away expression that shows everyone that yes, I am happy.
I'm tired of being lied to, though. I'm tired of being told what I want to hear. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the gesture. How sweet of you, to be looking out for my feelings. And yes, I know it's not just for me. Keeping me happy preserves not just my sanity, but yours, too. But at the same time, I am so tired of being lied to now, so that later we can go back to normal. I understand that telling me exactly what I want to hear keeps this image of perfection, and happiness, that so many people work so hard to achieve. I understand that so many people look at us, and see what we have, and still, I want to be told the truth. I no longer find these false promises endearing. At first, yes, they were sweet. You were trying, and I appreciated it. However, I am growing comfortable here. And every time you make another promise to save my feelings, to fix things, I wind up still being disappointed later, because in the end, we're right where we started. Perhaps you forget. But if that's the case, then what you said meant nothing to you in the first place. And if that's the case, what else have you said to me, that has been empty? I would rather have someone, and their flaws, and have to accept with, and deal with them, than someone who would rather fix things with hollow promises.
Don't get me wrong. I appreciate your effort. But, truth is easier to hang onto than pretty lies wrapped in bows.

School.

So, it's 9:03, the night before my third day of school. I already have a rather large pile of math homework, and many, many complaints. I'll go through my schedule, like I did last year. However, now we have Block Scheduling, so all of the classes are like, 83 minutes. Oh, except for lunch, that's fine.

A Days.
Period 1. French 4 Honors: French this year might be pretty good. It's based mostly around culture this year, so I'm actually rather excited. The period goes by quickly.

Period 2. Modern U.S. History: So, my teacher has a monotone. He's kind of funny, but he just goes on and on for days. The class never ends, I swear. Time stops so that History can drudge on as long as possible. I can't imagine I'll enjoy history very much this year.

Flex: Basically an enormous waste of my time, where we do ridiculous activities so that high school can have more control over our lives, and what we learn, and how we do things. Translation: I hate that they want me to use a stupid planner with the school handbook inside of it. Student Success Seminar (Or whatever it's called)? NO.

Lunch: Is only twenty-ish minutes, and I don't really have any friends, that's fine. OH, and on top of that, it's at 10:40 in the morning. Not at all right. No one is hungry for lunch at an hour that is still classified as the morning.

Period 3. Chemistry: So, I'm dropping chemistry, hopefully, and switching to anatomy. Science and math are my two worst classes, and I need to focus on them one at a time. So hopefully, my schedule will iron out, so that I can devote my attention to Algebra Two.

Period 4. Algebra 2: Another teacher with a monotone. However, he has an interesting sense of humor, and a dog. Hopefully I'll actually understand math this year.

B Days:

Period 1. Special Chorus: 83 MINUTES OF CHORUS. YES. MY LIFE IS COMPLETE.

Period 2. Honors English 3: Seems like a pretty good class. Lots of reading. I'll post the list later. I'm incredibly excited, and I adore my teacher.

Period 3. Gym: 83 minutes of gym. Please, do me a favor, and break both of my legs. Please.

Flex: Okay, on B Days, I have to read. I love reading. However, when forced to read, I never can concentrate. I just can't see this going well.

Lunch: I don't know who's in my B Day lunch yet, but I'll give a full report when I know.

Study Hall: Ohhh, so THIS is when I can do my homework.

All in all, I already hate school (again).

I'm a little disappointed in the fact that I have absolutely nothing to say for myself.

Babysitting the whole gang tonight. Well, all the girls anyway. I need to start making plans, because summer's almost over. I still need to have a summer experience. At home, that is.

I've been taken over and knocked down by the feeling of missing everyone. Especially my NSLC-ers. :[

I've been thinking a lot about the future, in terms of now. Today, for example, I was laying on my bed and I was thinking about things that are currently bothering me, and I couldn't help but wonder, am I even going to remember any of this, or any of these people in ten years? At a glance, ten years seems like a shorter amount of time than it is. It seems like I'll be the same person I am right now. However, ten years ago, I was six years old, and I had a Barbie ballerina backpack. Now, I'm sixteen, and I'm not even sure I own a backpack that isn't broken (Note: I looked. I have two backpacks that aren't broken.). I always find myself wondering who I'll still be talking to in the future, and what days I'll remember, and which one's I'll completely forget. Like, I can hardly tell you half of what happened on Tuesday of last week. But forgetting any of this scares me a little, because this is who I am right now. I suppose change is inevitable. Time will pass whether I want it to or not. I frequently discuss this here, but I can't seem to wrap my mind around the fact that things aren't going to be this way forever. But that's all part of the experience, I guess.

So, my sixteenth birthday party is today. I have a bunch of things to do, no idea where to start, and no couch in the party room. I may cry.

Jai Ho is my guilty pleasure. And Britney Spears tunes :]

I'm really tired of ridiculous teenage girls, who don't see that every fault they find in the world can be found in themselves. I'm cleaning out all of my clutter, getting rid of the tiny security blankets I've kept around for so long. Maybe it seems cold to cut someone out of your life the way I plan on doing with some people. But sometimes, it's necessary.

QuickPost

Today, we're going to a Teacher book fair. I'm hoping it's not all like, education books. But either way, I love books. I love the smell of them, the paper and ink. I just all around love books. I wish I could bottle it, and give it to all of those people out there who don't like to read.

Sorry, I was dorking out hard.

RIP John Hughes.

I've been going to the library a lot.
Things I've recently checked out:
-The Bell Jar, Sylvia Plath. LOVE. One of my favorite novels.
-Gossip Of the Starlings, Nina de Gramont.
-The Adoration of Jenna Fox, Mary E. Pearson.
-A Walk In The Woods, Bill Bryson. For school.
-Keith, the film. Made me sob, total chick flick.
-Veronica Mars, Season One. OBSESSED. OBSESSED. Can someone provide me with Season Three??
-The Tenth Circle, Jodi Picoult.
-Veronica Mars, Season Two.
-Fight Club, Chuck Palahniuk.
-Heroes and Thieves, Vanessa Carlton. LOVE HER.

Post 200.

I wish I could take a big box of crayons, and color in the clouds, so everyone could see the shapes I see.

I love the simplicity of this. A black and white proclomation, with a period at the end. I wish life worked this way. You could just declare "The End.", and all loose ends would magically be tied up, all questions answered, all i's dotted and t's crossed. Life, however, does not work like this. And unfortunately, this is not the end. This is only the beginning. Bottom's up. Let's toast to a(nother) fresh start.

Sitting around in my glasses and pajamas. I've been playing my guitar all day. Not as good as I wish I was, but I'm having so much fun. I'm so excited to go to bed. I love sleeping.
This was rather pointless. I don't care.

Today was rather uneventful. I'm covered in mosquito bites. I cannot imagine why anyone cares to read this blog. I've read so many others and they're so incredibly interesting. I, however, just give you a look into my mundane existance. And for this, I'm incredibly sorry.

Summer.

Hello to all. I'm very sorry I haven't given you any of my simple words and thoughts to read lately. I've been incredibly busy. I got home from New York, and was completely drained. Emotionally and physically. I never knew that people you'd just met could change you so deeply. I learned so much from everyone. I refuse to let them drift away. I went to Boston to visit Pat with his parents. (For those who were not aware, Pat is my boyfriend. He's in Boston on the Berklee Five Week Summer Program Thing. Because he's an amazing musician. He might hate me for saying that here, but I don't care. He can deal. Hi, Pat!) It was a great day, the weather was amazing, even though we expected rain. The next day, I started work. I don't even want to get into that. Sitting at a desk from 7:30 to like, 4:30 in the afternoon is no way to spend your summer vacation. And I simply cannot work with family members.

Summer is slowly dwindling. I still have so much to do. French and English work. Experiences. Places. I swear, I had a list at the beginning of this summer of things I wanted to accomplish. I shall locate it, and tell you if I've actually done any of it.

I've developed a love for fireflies. They fascinate me to no end. I caught a bunch in New York. They'd hide in the grass of the lawns at Fordham, staying still, allowing you to catch them. I'd hold them between my cupped palms, and open them slowly, but the fireflies never left. I think they beg to be caught. They attract attention, and then they don't leave. They're kind of like us in that sense. They look for a way to escape, however, when given the opportunity, they like to stay for a while.

I don't know. Just some ramblings. I probably make no sense.

Home.

I'm home from New York. I'll probably elaborate more on my trip in a few days, but right now, I'm exhausted, and a little teary still. I met some of the most amazing people in the past ten days, and we've became so close. Leaving was incredibly difficult. I'll keep these memories with me, because they're some of my best memories. I learned so much from you all, and from this experience. Going around the circle, and hearing some of the things people thought of me, and the way that I can effect people really struck me. It's a frighteningly wonderful concept that I've changed these people as much as they've changed me. For the better, of course.
So to everyone in NSLC Theater, Fordham, July 16-25, Thank you. You've given me great times, amazing memories, insane laughs, and huge tears. I've loved every second of it.

We should be leaving soon for my big New York City excursion. I'm so excited. I'll be staying at Fordham. This is my first trip where it's just me. I don't know anyone going, really. I don't have anything remotely comfortable to serve as my security blanket.. I'm diving into this completely by myself. I'm so excited.

I just lost my shoes, again. I spend more time looking for them than actually wearing them.

New York is tomorrow! I'm SO excited. Literally, I don't even know what to do with myself.

I leave for New York in two days. Is this even real? Am I actually doing this? It's insane. I'm so nervous, yet it hasn't all hit me yet. So much is going on.

About to go to bed, letting the anticipation of sleep hang over me for one more minute. Going to lay down under the covers in this sweatshirt and let the steady sound of breathing drag me to sleep.

Honestly, bed time is my favorite part of the day. I love sleeping so much. I should be a sloth, or a koala or something.

Pointless post, I am embarrassing.

These Lines of Lightning Mean We're Never Alone.

Here's some things I want to do this summer:
Catch fireflies in a jar. (How long do fireflies live for?)
Learn some more songs on guitar. Actually learn them.
Get a baby duck. (Or some form of baby animal.)
Discover some more new music.
Perfect my cartwheel.
Have an amazing time in New York.
Meet new people.
Learn something new, every day.
Stop being such a suckish blogger.
Make Baked Alaska. (Probably not going to happen.)
Wear sunscreen, so like, actually use sun protection.
Go out in costume.
See a matinee in my pajamas.
Go to the flea market.
Buy something vintage.
Acquire a record player.
Be spontaneous.
Watch some old movies.

Today was such a fabulous day.
I went shopping, with Taylor and my mother. I tie-dyed and watched Harry Potter, with Taylor, as well. And we all went out to dinner. It was amazing.

It's my birthday!

I wish you weren't still mad at me. It's my birthday tomorrow.

Currently, food is making me sick. Whenever I eat, I get a ridiculous stomach ache, no matter what it is, and I nearly vomit. However, if I avoid it by not eating, I get sick, and want to vomit. It's a lose-lose situation.
Music I'm currently into:
-Beck
-Mika
-The Dresden Dolls
-Jai Ho is the catchiest song in the world, I love it.

This One's For You.

I like leaving secret notes to people. I love The Runaways. I have a love/hate relationship with bugs. I'm not afraid of spiders. I hate hot tea, but I love iced tea. I like yo-yos. I like when people tell me things about themselves. I love listening to people talk. I pace when I'm on the phone. Thunder storms are very exciting to me. The last time the power went out at night, I screamed for my mommy. I still call my mom "Mommy". Sweet tea makes me want to vomit, but I love it anyway. I have a folder exploding with letters I've written to various people, and never sent. I want to, one day, send a piece of fruit, addressed and stamped, through the mail to someone, because I read it in a book once. I make a list every day. I think a lot. Sometimes, I sit there, and look like I'm thinking, when I'm really singing songs in my head, and they're usually really bad songs. I tap my foot a lot. I think that the best forms of short distance transportation is a tie between walking and riding a bike, end of story. I think faster than my mouth can take the words, and I can't get them out, and I get really flustered and start to blush and move my hands and start to stutter. To fix this, I have to literally get up and dance the sentence out. I hate cake frosting from like, bakeries, and rather love the frosting you get at the grocery store. I will walk out of my way to get to that really crunchy leaf. Jumping in puddles is very glorious, and I highly recommend doing it. I question everything, and I have for as long as I can remember. I'm too indescisive for my own good. My phone is terribly broken, but I plan on keeping it. I like memories, and the rain, and puppies.

Things

I felt like I should update everyone about what's going on in my life. However, I've been sitting, staring at the white page for at least five minutes. Watching the cursor blink, waiting for oncoming words is not bringing any about, as it usually does. I'm tired, my eyelids are heavy, but my mind is racing. If I were in bed, I'd be asleep, but I don't think I want to give in just yet. I'm kind of afraid for this day to end, although, technically, it will end with or without me in half an hour. But my theory is, the day isn't over until you go to sleep.
I love sleeping. I love the way unconsciousness rolls over you, and you allow yourself to be dragged by the tide. I love slipping into that place where I can do no wrong. But sometimes, sleep terrifies me. The way my mind wakes up before my body, and no amount of fear can get my legs to move. The way the dark side of my thoughts, my scariest imagined creations can get me here. I suppose I could always wake up, but sometimes the lull of closed eyes, and soft blankets, and comfort drags me back under. But I still go back. We always go back.

Maybe I once again, just think too much.

Here's my issue. There isn't going to be a sequel to Heathers. I love that movie.

I'm trying to decide if I'm actually awake, and this is happening, or if I'm just having a very vivid dream.

Played guitar most of the day. That's about it.

The Sea Is Just A Wetter Version of the Skies.

I'm finding myself very angry recently. Few things can tame my dark mood. It could potentially be because I'm a teenager. Here is my question. Why is it that we're forced to watch life change around us, affecting us as it may, and we're not allowed to do anything about it? I'm tired of floating as the current picks up and drags me along with it. I wish I were stronger, so I could swim against the force, and go back to shore, where it is comfortable, and the sun is warm. But instead, I float here in the water, and it is cold, and I am shivering, but no one seems to notice, because they are floating along too, some swimming, making the flow stronger and harder to resist. It's easier to float along with it than push against the mass of bodies and water carrying me away. Maybe one day I'll be able to, but for now, I'll be a hypocrite and take the easy way out with the rest of us, while nearly overflowing with rebellion, soon to spill over.

I am in a foul mood, brooding about the house in a typical teenage fashion. I feel as though I've been slapped in the face by the reality that this summer is going to mildly suck. I can feel it already. Listening to the new Regina Spektor album, I am home alone. Told Mother that my mood is too dark to be around people, so they proceeded to go to my grandmother's house while I sit here in an oversized tee shirt and shorts. My contacts are burning my eyes. I had never realized how heavily I relied on your words to keep me from being bored, until they were taken from me by a week in the woods. So here I am, in a foul mood, brooding about.

Here's the issue.
I can never keep friends for long.

I've been boring lately. Holed up in bed reading or playing music. Yesterday I went to Lakc Compounce, which was fun. I've been there a million times and I never get bored.
I want to go on a picnic.

Currently listening to Joan Jett and the Blackhearts. Spent all day doing absolutely nothing, talking to mostly people I don't want to talk to, and a few that I actually did want to talk to. I miss my friends, and seeing them every day. I love the rain, but I wish it would be more summer-y just for a day. I can't wait until it's the days where I roll out of bed at 11:00, and the sun's out, and bright. And I can throw on shorts and a tee shirt and sit on the front porch with a book and a glass of iced tea. That's what I'm most looking forward to. Watching tears condense on the glass and slide down into a ring shaped puddle. Listening to Iron & Wine. Not having to wear shoes. If it were up to me, we'd never have to wear shoes. It would just be acceptable to have bare feet all of the time, toughened from nature and walking and time. I want to go to Kent Falls this summer, and spend a day there with my friends. We might spend a day at Happy Landings this week, which I'm looking forward to. It's been that awkward, sticky, rainy heat. Where you want to wear pants, because of the rain, but shorts, because of the weight of the air. It's best to just stay inside.

It's summer. I can't get over that. And I can't decide what I feel about it. Like, if I'm happy, or sad. I kind of miss seeing people every day.
I'm going to miss lunch. Well. My friends. I could do without the food being thrown.
I'm going to miss Taylor. My DNA buddy. She's leaving me in our stupid town to go to better, farther places.

But I'm not going to miss anything so much that I'd go back. I hate school.

Today was an excellent day.
Maybe it was because I woke up on time, early in fact. Or perhaps because I didn't miss my bus. Or because I'm fairly sure I did well on my French final (By well, I mean not failing.).
Maybe it was other things.
Who knows?
I'm just glad it's summer. Finally.

Hello, I just slept without a night light.
Thank you very much.

I'm attempting to teach myself piano. The feeling of getting something correct is possibly the most glorious thing ever.

Somedays.

I'm still trying to convince myself that it's almost summer. Mostly because I started this year with the idea that this year would be different than before, but here I am, at Finals, and nothing's different. Everything's the same as it was before.
For some reason, I'm not nervous at all for Finals. I can't bring myself to get nervous, to cram at all. I'm just kind of taking things day by day. I've been getting less and less sleep, but it hasn't hit me yet. I'm afraid of the day when I'll try to get up in the morning and just be incapable.
It's cold for June. The air still feels like April.
I think it's time for summer.

This Too, Shall Pass.

Today has been a horrible day.

I think my best friend just broke up with me. I mean, I knew we were drifting, but I thought that it'd mean more to you than how you responded. I don't think I'd ever had a friendship like that before, and now it's so distant. I feel like I'm losing you to all of those people who were only kind of there. I made so much effort to be there for you every single day.
And speaking of losing friends, if you only talk to one friend and isolate all of your other ones, you'll wind up friendless. Words that people should follow, but probably won't.

Today, I ripped off half of my fingernail. Worst ever.

Finals will be the death of me.

I'm currently in the midst of a Coldplay obsession. I almost can't handle it.

To Megan Bronze.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Curse my teenage mind and short attention span.

Candy and hugs seem to be in your near future.

Nothing really to say. Just floating around, living a usual existance in a typical world. Still waiting for something extraordinary.

Hi, this mosquito bite could force me to tear off my foot.

I lost the words I was looking for when I opened this New Post.

The Moon

Today was nearly perfect. I know that in order for something to be perfect, it must have a flaw, and today was close. Just missing something, someone. I can't quite lable it. I had an amazing time at brunch and in the city with Taylor. The end of today, was amazing. I came home and sat on my front porch and looked at the moon. I like the stability of the moon. No matter what happens, the moon will always be there. We will always look at that same moon, no matter how far we are from those we wish were with us. Tonight, the moon was the clearest I've ever seen it. It was almost like it knew I needed a wakeup call. The moon will always be there, no matter what changes. My life could spin completely off its axis, but the moon will always be there.

Wooh! I got into Small Group! Yayyyyy!

I am rather excited.

Why is it that we can have everything, except for what we want? It seems as though every possibility I've humored is becoming reality. However, that one thing I want is just out of reach. I'm almost there, I can feel it. But this temporary fix isn't enough. And I can feel how close I am, and yet I know I'm not there. And there's nothing I can do about it. I can't find another foot-hole to bring me higher. I'm stuck at this level of in-between in which I inhabit. I don't want to grow too comfortable here, because one day, I'll move past it. Maybe I'll go up, maybe I'll fall. But one day, I will move.

I COULD NOT LOVE THIS NEW DMB ALBUM MORE.
My Lanta. I can't put it into words, go buy it. NOW.

Drifting

It's strange how quickly and subtly someone can float out of your life. One minute they're with you, holding your hand, or by your side, or just being there, with you. The next, they creep away slowly, the way a shadow does approaching noon. Finally, they disappear completely. At first you'll miss them. You'll cling to the memories of their existence woven with yours. But soon, you'll let them go. You will move on, you will overcome the fact that they were ever a part of your life. And you may not know right away. But one day you will, and it will hit you hard. But you'll be able to overcome that, too.

I am listening to Billy Joel.
And So It Goes is a good song.

Meaningless Update.

I don't remember the last time I blogged. I'm currently listening to Daft Punk, Alive 2007. So far, I can't even think of words to describe this album, except for the fact that I'm incredibly happy to have it in my possession.
I was inducted into French Honors Society last week. But maybe I told you that. Other than that, I haven't really done much. I went to the mall with Taylor last night. It was pretty fun, I must say.
Other than that, everything's been more or less the same as always. I feel like for now, life's just on autopilot, and I'm just waiting for there to be a bump in the road so I can take the wheel. Coasting is nice for a little while, but I'm getting bored. I wish something exciting would happen, just for once.

One day, we will be our parents age. I'll be forty one day. And one day, everyone we know won't be here. And the people we know right now, we won't know them forever. Like one day I won't be having these conversations with Taylor and the friends I have right now because eventually, we'll grow apart. And there's nothing I can do about it. So I think I just need to enjoy the time I have. I want to be with people, all the time. No more of this alone business.

I'm Addicted To You.

It's four o'clock in the morning. I'm exhausted, but I can't sleep. I have this wretched case of heartburn and I don't know why. My esophagus is on fire. It's like I'm about to throw up. Gross, I know. I'm sorry for subjecting you to this.
So I've been thinking about words. I feel like we overuse them. They're starting to mean less and less. So when I say that I want to cry from this heartburn, you don't understand. My eyes are literally filling with tears.
I'm never eating anything with any kind of remote flavor again.

I can't remember the last time I posted, but I feel as though I should, despite the fact I have nothing to write about.

I have poison ivy for the first time in my life. It's wretched.
I'm tired. Like really tired.
I'm listening to The Runaways. Can I go back to the Seventies and be best friends with Joan Jett and Cherie Currie? Please?
Things are boring. Party later. I have yet to make a card >_<

Nothing of consequence has occured recently. FHS induction today. That's it.

Thoughts

I kind of want a different name.

Energy drinks make me jittery. I still drink them.

I'm tired of having to initiate conversation with everyone, all the time.

I am wearing my favorite sweater.

I want to go to the Flea Market tomorrow.

I am about to start making a list of things I want.

NSLC is this summer, and I can't believe I'm actually going.

I love animals a whole lot:]

I kind of want a hedgehog, and a shrew a bit as well. And a rabbit. And a piglet.

Need.

Everything in life changes. However, one thing remains constant: Need. We all feel it, that tug at your insides. You can't escape from the Need. You can ignore it, bury it beneath layers of false promises that the Need isn't real, but it is. Need is always there. The Need is not always bad, nor is it always good. But it is there. Resistance can be strong, but The Need is stronger. No amount of hiding can save you. All you can do is hope The Need won't hurt you.

Conformity

There is no such thing as an "individual". Humans are not like snowflakes, we are not very unique or perfect. Conformity is everywhere. The way we speak, the cars we drive, the way we dance, act, dress. My question is, if we are forced to live a life just like everyone else, how does one become an individual? Are we fated to always be forced to being a unique individual in groups? Why do we drill the phrase "Be Yourself" into the minds of everyone, when we're all more or less alike. We hide behind other people, trends, anything, clinging to the certainty of the fact that everyone else is doing it too. Where would we be without the standards that are starting to make us all strive to look exactly the same? We certainly could not reach the perfection we aspire to have. Who decided that we should all do the same things, have the same things as everyone else? Who decided that we should dance the same way as the people next to us, like the same music as them?

Maybe this is over exaggerating. Maybe it isn't.

I believe tired may be an understatement.

Bigger Than Me. Aselin Debison.

When I clicked the "New Post" button today, I thought I had something to say. However, here I am, with nothing to write about. Normally, the sight of a blank square of the world, whether a piece of paper, or a computer screen, sparks ideas. The thought that this is the one thing that is truely mine, that these words will always be mine and no one else's, sends thoughts and emotions and words flowing faster than my fingers can carry them. But today, I see nothing. I see white, blank, emotionless. I feel so, to be frank, boring. For once, I have nothing to say. Other than the obvious, Prom and the Wedding coming up. And I'm excited, like big bold letters in my planner excited. I just can't find anything to say.

That is all.

Secrets

Secrets are always told. Whether told in confidence, or laid out for everyone to see, they are always told. We can keep nothing to ourselves. We need someone to talk to.

What happens when you have a secret that you know you shouldn't tell, but you want to? What if telling means softening the blow? What if not telling leads to more hurt than telling?

I'm invisible.
Someone ran right into me, as if looking through me.

I hit myself in the eye with my tennis ball while serving today.

I also may have broken my toe. It's swollen, purple, and not moving.

Good day.

Train of Thought.

Stop lying to me. It doesn't make you look cool, it makes me want to punch you continually in the face.

Allergies suck.

So does being run into all day. I must be invisible.

This week is going to take forever.

"I'll bet she's back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair. She smells like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there's time to change, yeah. Since her return from her stay on the moon, she listens like spring and she talks like June, yeah."

I give up on posting all of my thoughts.

Reflections on Life

Life is very much like a roller coaster. You're strapped in, whether you like it or not, you're off. There are ups, and downs, and maybe you're not ready for that. Maybe you would rather be in the antique cars, riding steadily at one level. However, we cannot live in that level of monotony. We can try to make life as bland as possible, but these attempts are in vain. Life is about the contrast of steep uphill and stomach clenching downhill. No matter how uncomfortable the drops make us, we can always look up and know that things can only go up from here. And no matter how many twists and turns life throws at us, we can rest assured that in the end, there will always be those ups, that adrenaline rush, whatever it is that makes everything, including the moments where you feel like you can't bear it any longer, worth it in the end.

The Call, Regina Spektor.

I really love Regina Spektor. Her songs make me think:]

It started out as a feeling
Which then grew into a hope
Which then turned into a quiet thought
Which then turned into a quiet word

And then that word grew louder and louder
'Til it was a battle cry
I'll come back
When you call me
No need to say goodbye

Just because everything's changing
Doesn't mean it's never been this way before
All you can do is try to know who your friends are
As you head off to the war

Pick a star on the dark horizon
And follow the light
You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back when it's over
No need to say goodbye

Now we're back to the beginning
It's just a feeling and no one knows yet
But just because they can't feel it too
Doesn't mean that you have to forget

Let your memories grow stronger and stronger
'Til they're before your eyes
You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say goodbye

You'll come back
When they call you
No need to say goodbye

I Don't Wanna Fall Another Moment Into Your Gravity.

I like certainty. I hate wondering, I hate haziness. Surprises just stress me out. I crave certainty more than anything. Lately, I've inhabited a cloud of suspense, uncertainty, waiting for life to become less of a foggy mess. However, things are just becoming more and more fuzzy; The thick black lines I've edged everything into are slowly fading. I had worked so hard to file everything away, to create a concrete foundation to build things upon. However, I've let things slip. I've allowed for uncertainty to invade my space.
I feel like if I were made into a statue, there would be a thin glass layer covering a concrete base. Sure, the outside is breakable. The inside, however is solid. Concrete. Certain.

Gravity Lyrics

Hi, this is my new favorite song. Gravity, Sara Bareilles.

Something always brings [me back to you].
It never takes too long.
No matter what I say or do I'll still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone.

You hold me without touch.
You keep me without chains.
I n e v e r wanted anything so much than to drown in your love and not feel your reign.

Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your -gravity-.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're onto me and all over me.

You loved me 'cause I'm f r a g i l e.
When I thought that I was strong.
But you touch me for a little while and all my fragile strength is gone.

Set me free, leave me be. I don't want to fall another moment into your gravity.
Here I am and I stand so tall, just the way I'm supposed to be.
But you're on to me and all over me.

I live here on my knees as I try to make you see that you're everything I think I need here on the ground.
But you're neither friend nor foe though I can't seem to let you go.
The one thing that I still know is that you're keeping me down

Keeping me down
You're onto me, onto me, and all over me.
Something always brings me back to you.
It never takes too long.

Maybe, this is my mild form of a teenage rebellion. Maybe it's proof that as time goes on, we stray from the beliefs of those before us, looking for answers somewhere else.

Religion confuses me. Thinking about it, I feel as though it's almost degrading. We're led to believe that we're all sinners, unworthy of love from the one who is supposed to love us all. The constant mantra of how we are unworthy of His love, of Heaven makes me want to find something more uplifting. Why do we have to christen our babies? They haven't sinned. They can't even express themselves yet, how can they possibly be guilty of anything? Babies are pure, and perfect. Proof, this is, that no one can get away from the harsh message. If God is allowed to make us all into sinners, into bad people, who decided He was worthy? Why is He worthy of our love, our devotion, our worship? Why am I a sinner? Why am I forced to feel so imperfect.
I feel like we use religion as a super power. God is Mr. X, and we are all the civillians. Pastors, Priests, Fathers alike are all the X-Men, and they all try to "save" us from the enemies (Other religions, naturally). It's almost like a popularity contest of sorts. It provides us with a shell, something to hide behind.
Why do we believe in God? Because our parents did? Because their parents did?

I think I just need some unbiased, spiritual guidance.

More Things To Add To The List Of Things I Don't Understand.

The future scares me. I'm so afraid that I'm going to go to college, graduate, and be stuck thinking to myself "Now what?".
I don't understand careers. We're so pressured to think about it from the time we're five. "What do you want to be when you grow up?". It changes from year to year. So how am I expected to want the same thing for the rest of my life, when I'm only fifteen? I don't understand.
People are so unhappy with their jobs. Isn't your career supposed to be something you love, or at least like? Call me jaded, naiive, or diluted. However, do not call me impractical. It makes sense.

This Could Be A Brand New Start

After much reflection, I have learned some things. We envy the wrong things. We waste too much energy to be the richest, the most beautiful. We want the American dream, the perfect house and family. All of it creates a nice appearance, a hollow shell meant to exude the things in life that actually are worth jealousy- Happiness. Our desire for this so-called perfection destroys the one thing we have that is worth envy. On our rise to the top, we step on everyone in our way. We have nothing without happiness.

Montage of Life.

Lyrics: You see, I'm the bravest girl
You'll ever come to meet
Yet, I shrink down to nothing
At the thought of someone really seeing me
I think my heart is wrapped around
And tangled up in winding weeds

But, I don't wanna go on living
Being so afraid of showing
Someone else my imperfections
And even though my feet are trembling
Every word I say comes stumbling
I will bare it all
Watch me unfold
Unfold, unfold

These hands that I hold behind my back
Are bound and broken from my own doing
And I can't feel anything anymore
I need a touch to remind me
I'm still real

'Cause, I don't wanna go on living
Being so afraid of showing
Someone else my imperfections
And even though my feet are trembling
Every word I say comes stumbling
I will bare it all
Watch me unfold
Unfold, unfold

My soul
It's dying to be free
I can't live the rest of my life so guarded
It's dying to be free
It's up to me to choose
What kind of life I lead
Marie Digby, Unfold. A selection.

Reflections:
Teenagers are not as terrible as we are made out to be. We're becoming less prejudiced, less judgemental. Our arms are far more open that those of our parents. We accept the flaws, the quirks, the "abnormalities" of those around us, because as time goes on, the human race becomes more comfortable with differences. And because we are now becoming raised around said differences, we're so much more accepting. We know what we want, and we know what we don't. Our eyes are more open to other people, other ideas. We stray from what we've been trained to believe, instead believing what we're told. I know what I want, and I know what I believe, and most of all, I know it's radical. And I like that.

I plan on contributing something to society.

No Plans.

I hate not being able to drive.

>_<

Here's To The Fast Times; The Times We Felt Alive

NSLC IS ON THIS SUMMER!
I am so excited, I can't even put it into words. I just . . . Oh my God.

Here's To The Fast Times; The Times We Felt Alive

NSLC IS ON THIS SUMMER!
I am so excited, I can't even put it into words. I just . . . Oh my God.

I Know In My Heart It's Not You, I Knew. But Now I Know What I Want

While this week was not my best, I've had a fairly good weekend. Last night I hung out at Lauren's with a couple cool people. It was a little tense, due to the underlying weirdness as to why we were all hanging out, but I ended up having a lot of fun. We poured vegetable oil all over her trampoline, which I would not reccomend to the uncoordinated, such as I. We ran around to the strobe light and techno music, and just chilled for a while. Definitely the most fun I've had in a while. Although, I destroyed my arm in tennis Friday night, and falling all over the trampoline did not make it any better. It's feeling rather firey at the moment. I believe I should get an award for this -- Most Easily Damaged.

I love parties:]

GPA

4.154

Wheeee.
I should be 73028931 times more excited than I am. But I'm not. This week, to be frank, sucked. I'm so glad it's over.

Call Me A Name, Kill Me With Words.

Twilight on three disk DVD is now in my glorious possession.
I feel complete. Haha, kidding. In other news and updates:

I'm going to prom. Here's a link to my dress that makes me swoon out of love for it: http://www1.macys.com/catalog/product/index.ognc?ID=357866&CategoryID=42768

My first tennis practice is Monday at 6:00. Wish me luck, due to the fact that I'll need it.

Hmm. Nothing really happens to me. I met some new people, and they were very nice. And I went to a party, which was rather enjoyable.

Tomorrow, I have a fitting for the Wedding.

I lead an uneventful life, but it will have to suffice.

Morning.

It;s 5:45, and believe it or not, I slept in. I'm freezing and exhausted.Plans for today:
School
Center school
Finally home

(This is where nothing happens. I just sit at home and wish I had plans.)

I might get a present for my friend Kayla's birthday. I might look at prom dresses (Grossly expensive. Helllooo, it's not even my prom!) I might just go to sleep, because at this rate, I know I'm going to be nodding off all day. School is a strange concept. It has good intentions, but having to wake up at 5:30 in order to be awake and presentable enough to make a 6:30 bus is so ridiculous. Everyone's tired and nobody actually wants to be there. And the things that go on DURING the school day that nobody notices baffle me. If teachers ever blame parents for drug addicted kids or scantily clad girls, they should try actually looking around the school. Everyone's trying to be older than they are. Nobody says anything.

I'm going to go upstairs and put on jeans and a standard black tee shirt. Maybe a hoodie because it's freezing. Well, 43 degrees, but my school decided that once it's nice enough to wear short sleeves inside, they're going to turn the heat off and start opening windows or something.

I hate high school.

>_<

Hello, I am not a liar. Let's see where saying I am will get you.

People frustrate me so much.

Electrifying.

Listening to: Grease Soundtrack. Why? Because I can.

I have had an odd few amount of things to say lately. I suppose I'm back to my uneventful, boring life again.I've decided to postpone The Glorious Summer Program to next summer. As much a I desperately want to go, and my mother has come up with many ridiculous(ly awesome) ways to get money for me to go, it feels wrong. She shouldn't have to sell any of her antiques for this. So, this summer, I plan on getting a summer job. I would *love* to go on a roadtrip. I don't know why I have summer on the brain so badly. I think it was because it was so nice out today. I love the warm weather.

It's 4:53. I have English and Biology homework, and History notes due Thursday. But it's not like taking these notes will make any difference since my teacher doesn't actually *teach* very much. Hello, quiz.

Recently The Flames Are Getting Out of Control.

I don't even know what to say. I'm so mad, but then I'm not. This is just ridiculous.

They're So Much Stronger Than The Friends You Try To Keep By Your Side.

I think I need to revise my life. Scroll through my mental contacts list and delete a few people, because I'm tired of the negative energy they're giving me. So I'm finally giving up ignoring it and I'm going to say something. I'm not going to sit around and let you tell people whatever it is you're telling them. It's so ridiculous of you to blame me for your own foolish antics. People don't trust you because of what *you* did to yourself. I've never did anything to you, never twisted a single story, other than the one you asked me to twist for you. By trying so hard not to get walked over and stepped on again, you are becoming exactly the person you don't want to be. I can see it. I refuse to be blamed because you're acting like a child. As I will state tomorrow, if you have something to say to me, do say it to my face like a big kid.

YAYAYAYYAYAYA JESS IS A GRAD! WOOOOOOOOOOOH! SO PROUD OF HER! OWOW! YAYAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

As of now, I hate drama.
So unnecessary.

Remember, Christina Rossetti.

REMEMBER me when I am gone away,
Gone far away into the silent land;
When you can no more hold me by the hand,
Nor I half turn to go, yet turning stay.
Remember me when no more day by day
You tell me of our future that you plann'd:
Only remember me; you understand
It will be late to counsel then or pray.
Yet if you should forget me for a while
And afterwards remember, do not grieve:
For if the darkness and corruption leave
A vestige of the thoughts that once I had,
Better by far you should forget and smile
Than that you should remember and be sad.

This Makes Me Hate The Human Race.

I don't even know where to begin this rant. I'm angry. I'm *incredibly* angry. I hate how people can be such ignorant swine! I found a group on Facebook today entitled "Soldiers Are Not Heroes". Pardon me? Did I really just read that? I have honestly no outstanding opinion of this war, but I CERTAINLY support our troops. Let me copy and paste some of the groups opinions for you.

"Does the thought of hero worshiping our armed forces make you want to vomit your spleen out?
Are you fed up of being told that soldiers deserve constant gushing praise?
Stand up and show members of the armed forces what you really think of them and their participation in needless bloodshed.

ALL PERSONNEL FIGHTING FOR THE COALITION WHETHER THEY BE FROM BRITAIN, AMERICA, CANADA, AUSTRALIA OR ELSEWHERE SHOULD BE ASHAMED TO WEAR THEIR UNIFORMS SO LET'S SHOW THEM WHAT WE REALLY THINK OF THEM!!

All you will need is:
* A white T-Shirt – Any one will do
* A phrase of protest such as the following to have printed on your shirt:

(e.g)

"Peterborough 2008: I was there"

"Soldiers are not heroes, footballers are"

"Proud not to murder civilians for a living"

"Everyone knows soldiers are best covered in egg"

"War is wrong... But don't tell soldiers"

"I won't stand behind the troops, neither will I stand in front of them"

"I was raped by soldiers and all I got was this lousy t-shirt"

"Soldiers don't die for my freedom to wear this"

... You could put all sorts on there.

THIS GROUP ISN'T A SOLDIER HATRED GROUP, JUST A GROUP AGAINST THE HERO WORSHIP OF SOLDIERS."

Please excuse me, I believe I vomited in utter disgust reading that.
How purely idiotic. I don't care if it's not a soldier hate group, if it's "a group against the hero worship of soldiers". It's SICK. I'm curious as to how many of those 2,544 in the group were brave enough to get off their computers and stand on the front lines and get shot at. Their main arguments are that there are soldiers out there who rape and kill civilians. That isn't all of them, you know nothing twits! There are murderers and rapists and all KINDS of terrible people HERE! However, the news and media only publishes stories on the few sick people out there that make mistakes, rather than those who do their job, and protect us (Even the ones who just sit on their computers and debate things like this.). How dare you say that these men and women aren't heroes! You don't see what they do for YOU, so that you can sit on your butt all day, on your computer and say that they're not heroes. They DIE for you. They get shot at so that you can pretend you know everything there is to know in this world and everything about life when you DO NOT.

I believe the fact that their picture is the siholuette of a KKK member really sums it all up.

Some people make me *sick*.

POST ONE HUNDRED!

WOOH! One Hundred Posts! THANKS FOR READING!

Sporadic Enlightenment, Courtesy of Grendel

Beauty is merely contrast. However, this contrast has become ridiculously important to us. I think that we secretly all know what we think of ourselves, how we look. However, it's what other compare us to that is important to us. And we all secretly know that we compare ourselves to unfair things. When looking for sympathy, we compare ourselves to the Retouched, the Unrealistic. When looking for compliments, we compare ourselves to the Untouchables.

I used to think that my purpose in life was to be a comparison. I had my college essays completely planned out: "I'll bring something totally new to campus; A feeling of reassurance. Sighs of relief will ring out across dorms: 'Well I'm not __________ (fill in the blank), but hey, I'm not Jessica!'"

However, I've realized that this is not my purpose (I am NOT Grendel, I tell you!). I don't know what I'm supposed to be doing, but reassuring others is not it. I want to challenge them. I want to start competition. Creating fire is my goal.

Happiness Gives Me The Hiccups.

I'm really happy right now. I can't explain it, but I can feel it. Everything's really good right now. I have things worked out with my friends, I'm not worried about school, or stupid people, or what those stupid people think of me. I'm listening to Penny Lane on repeat, and dancing around in my seat. Not even CAPT testing has me down. It's so strange. I love it. :D



Wow, lame blog post.

You Are My Sweetest Downfall

Currently, I've been working on another list about myself (Obviously). However, I don't have much to say about myself. In fact, I'm not even sure what I plan on posting about in this. So I think I'll just start writing about something. Do hold as I Google Things To Blog About. Aha! My friend Scrib has suggested I blog about my favorite songs. So here they are, in no particular order. However, keep in mind that I am incredibly indecisive, so these should be very broad.

1. Samson- Regina Spektor. Well, to be frank, anything by Regina Spektor. I love her voice, it's so unique yet easy to sing along to. I also think her lyrics are amazing. In fact, the title of this post is from Samson. I love it.

2. Call me a cornball, but I love I'll Be by Edwin McCain. Since it came out, it's been one of my favorite songs. I think his voice is really cool, though I haven't listened to anything else by him. I'm also rather partial to the acoustic version. Even though his hair is probably longer than mine and he looks like a total creeper.

3. The entire Across The Universe Soundtrack. Don't get me wrong, I'm a huge Beatles fan. There's more Beatles on my Zune than anything else. However, I love the way they've been remade for the movie. It gives every song a new resonance. I also love the addition of female voices:D

4. I love Hey There Delilah. I really do. I adore the simplicity of it, and the lyrics. . . I just love it.

5. Eleanor Rigby, I've Just Seen a Face, Penny Lane. . . Basically anything by the Beatles themselves. But Eleanor Rigby is one of my favorites. It makes me tear up a little.

6. Wake Up, Coheed and Cambria. I love the lyrics, and I think he has the coolest voice.

7. Call me Teenager, but I really love Taylor Swift. I can't explain my love for country.

8. Birds, Ben Folds. Amazing music right here. I actually really do love straight instrumentals.

9. I always will be a Hanson fan. I still listen to MmmmBop. But I love Lost Without Each Other.

10. I adore anything acoustic actually.

Well, I must be off. Karleigh's being a brat and I've really had it with her.

Fritz-y

My internet's currently on the fritz, so basically technology is currently hating me a ce moment la. So I suppose I'll make another One Hundred Things list. This one will probably be more detailed.

1. I have a few qualities that make me wonder why people even tolerate being around me. I'm fully aware of them. I'm cynical and sarcastic. Rather impatient and stubborn as well.
2. However, I feel like I must have at least a few redeeming qualities. Like I do make attempts to be funny. And I love to listen. And give advice, often when not asked, but whatever.
3. I rather love writing. When bored in class, I often like to think of story ideas. Most of them are never finished, never started, and never remembered, but that's okay with me.
4. I really enjoy music. I love making it, I love listening to it. I'm totally cliche in the fact that music is my life blah blah blah.
5. I love my friends so much. I would do most anything for them. I take personal enjoyment out of sticking up for them.
6. I'm incredibly easily amused. Sometimes.
7. I like very random things. I love buttons and keys. I just think they're pretty.
8. I love cameras. I desperately want an older camera with a manual focus and zoom adjust, that takes film. So badly.
9. When I play my guitar, I feel like Kim Possible.
10. When I am incredibly bored, I narrate my life as a British man. It gives me a good laugh. I think you should try it.
11. I care what people think of me. However, I love being weird. I really do.
12. Meryl Streep is one of my idols. I plan on being her for Halloween. No, seriously.
13. When I smile, my face becomes incredibly round. It's downright circular.
14. I rather love getting dressed up.
15. I often use words that most people don't. For example "Rad", and "Delicious" when it makes absolutely no sense. Such as how I last used it "I got a new pillow, it's so delicious."
16. I often laugh at my own jokes. I don't mean to. It just happens.
17. I read a lot. A ridiculous amount. Long books, short books. I love everything except for non-fiction.
18. I don't have many hidden talents. But I can hold up almost anything as a moustache. Pictures will be posted at some point.
19. I'm still a vegetarian. I love it, a lot. It makes me really happy. But it also makes me sad, because now it seems like there's dead animals everywhere. That makes me horribly sad. I love animals.
20. I don't understand war. I don't understand how shooting at each other solves anything. I honestly don't get it.
21. If Professional Hippie were a profession, I would probably consider that. But right now I'm thinking Cat Lady Revolutionary.
22. I love playing my guitar immensely. Next, I want to learn piano.
23. This summer, I'm most likely spending ten days in the city in a drama program. Thinking about that makes me so excited I could pee my pants.
24. I particularly love quotes. I don't know why. I aspire to be quoted one day.
25. I visit Google at least once a day.
26. I as a lot of questions. Like ridiculous amounts of questions.
27. My mother is one of my best friends. We may not always see eye to eye, but she really is the best mom ever. I'm not even kidding.
28. I don't usually understand things the first time they're explained to me.
29. I am beginning to think that my favorite word is "Why?". I question almost everything.
30. When I get a really good idea, I shout "Brain Blast!". It is secretly my dream to be Jimmy Neutron.
31. I get angry quickly, but I forgive just as quickly. And I'm always the first one to say I'm sorry.
32. I get into a lot of fights with my friends. Maybe I have an abrasive personality, maybe it's not my fault, I don't know. But all of these fights have helped me realize who my real friends are. I'm completely honest in saying that I have two or three friends with whom I've never fought with. They're my rocks:]
33. I just today realized how terrified I am of swallowing or choking on my uvula (Punching bag thing in the back of your throat that controls your gag reflex).
34. I often feel as though I inhabit many maturity levels. I can range between rather immature, to mature.
35. I'm rather forgetful. I once left the house without shoes. . .
36. I have the strange desire to go to Princeton. But hey, I'm not picky.
37. I drink more juice than most people you'll ever meet. I like all kinds, and I prefer it over everything. I also particularly enjoy flavored iced teas.
38. One sure-fire way to make me happy is to give me one of the huge one dollar cans of Arizona Tea. I love it so much.
39. I wish it was summer all year round. I love the smell of summer, the simplicity of everything. It's unfairly cruel that it can't be summer all year.
40. I plan on getting a bumper sticker for my future car proclaiming that I *will* break for animals. I don't care what people think. I love animals.
41. I like making other people happy.
42. I hate hate HATE folding other people's laundry. I hate it with a firey passion.
43. I also hate hate HATE when people don't answer me.
44. Sometimes, I enjoy breaking out in random song and dance.
45. Aladin is one of my favorite movies. He's a rather attractive cartoon.
46. I have an obsession with the eighties. I can't even remember them though, that's probably because I wasn't yet born.
47. I have been told to do really awesome impressions. Which apparantly make people smile.
48. I generally feel bad when asking for money. Most of the time, I'll ask anyway, but I always feel stupid, and then I think about it and how it all adds up and we're in a recession, I'm so ungrateful. . . It's a neverending cycle.
49. I walk away with something from every book I read.
50. I actually listen to the score of movies.
51. I get the hiccups at least once a day. It's not always multiple hiccups, sometimes just one or two, but they come every day.
52. I have strong opinions, in case you haven't noticed.
53. I cried when I watched Rugrats in Paris, and in fact, during most movies I watch.
54. I wish I was a wizard like Harry Potter. I find myself actually saying "Lumos!" and wondering why it didn't work.
55. I only kind of liked Catcher In The Rye. For some reason, this is blasphemous.
56. I hate chocolate ice cream.

Love is Old, Love is New.

Friday was Ring dance. Pictures to follow somewhere in this post. One could say it was rather . . . Dramatic. But I got my ring, and it's gorgeous, and that's all I care about. Currently listening to Hanson. I will never stop loving the MmmBop-ers. (For the record, I'm also a Britney fan. Don't judge me.) I've been writing a lot lately as well. I'm rather excited about this story. It's rather teenager-y, so I doubt any of the family members reading this would find any pleasure reading it. But it's rather interesting writing from a guy's perspective. Actually, it's quite fun. I can make him perfect. Which is always good.
Anyway, this post is garbage. I'm going to stop.

PS. My hand/Ring is the blue ring on the very pale hand with red nails:D

Sweet Tangerine, Will You Please Come Back To Me?

I was born ready for many things. I was born ready to blog ferociously. I was born ready to trip over everything. I was even born ready to injure myself in the most unexpected ways (Cutting my finger on a notebook? Yes.). However, I was not born ready to chase a small ball with a stick in my hands. I can barely manage having four limbs. How I am expected to juggle another is beyond me.

Response.

Parental Controls + Blogger = I cannot view your blog, therefore I cannot comment in response to the lovely comment you left me.
Thank you so much! I enjoy reading your blog as well. I just read your Bloody Sunday song based of Lazy Sunday. Brilliance. I'll have to give that to my last year's history teacher, she'll laugh so hard.

I Should Come Clean.

I think I have a bit of a temper. Not really a temper per se. I don't get thrashingly angry. I just get upset. Sometimes I say things I don't mean because I'm hurt, or upset, or on occasion, angry. But I generally only stay angry for five minutes, and then I realize how stupid I'm being.
I think I'm just way overly sensitive.

The Way I See It

Once upon a midnight dreary while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping. . .

On my brain. A realization that Girls Suck. They really do. I should know, I'm one of them. We're catty and mean. No matter what some of us say, 99% of us will judge you based off of what shoes you're wearing or what other people think of you. We're power-hungry backstabbers. Anyone you ever *thought* was your friend cannot be trusted. When it comes to my friends, I now believe that no one is truely your friend. The girls who look like they have the best friendships are the ones in the most unhealthy. You have your basic soccietal roles.
The Overshadowed Girl, the one who just goes along, is more of a bounty, because THIS group has her, rather than everyone else. When she speaks up, all hell breaks loose. There is uproar inside of her, however, she is afraid of it.
The Ringleader, the one who relies on these girls, whether it be because she just got done being the Lacky or because she simply doesn't have that many other close friends. She makes the plans, and more importantly, chooses who's Friends and who's Not.
The Lacky, or Follower, is the girl who says she's just "Going along" with what the Ringleader says. Secretly, she wishes to be boss herself. She displays this want by often attempting plans, or offering her home.
Finally, The Town Fool, the one who just wants FUN. She'll do anything for a laugh, even if it means hurting her friends.
I'm not saying these girls are mean. I'm not saying I don't like them. I've never even been in one of these groups. However, I've seen it. I've heard it fron the Overshadowed. I don't think I *want* to be in one of these groups. But *this* is how it looks. All fun and games and squeals of BFF, but when you look on the inside, it's shakey terrain. The ground is uneasy in No Man's Land.

So why am I trying so hard to venture my way in, The New Girl?

My Friends Are A Different Breed

Things I love:
1. Music
2. Dancing
3. Laughing
4. When I attempt to get together some of my friends to go to the mall, and they say that they can't, but then they go without me, and put pictures on Facebook to document.

Please excuse me whilst I festoon in the feeling of rejection.

Welcome To Another Pointless Holiday Rant.

Valentines Day. A day where we plead an overweight baby to shoot both you and the one you desire in the heart. Since when we beg for mortal wounds to be bestowed upon us and those we love, I do not know. Sure, it's nice when you have someone to celebrate with you, but when you don't it's kind of like this:
Things I Got For Valentine's Day.
Some paper Valentines because I was on the class list. 95% of these kids don't even know my name.
Chocolate. From my mother.
A few "Lyke Omigod, Happy Valentine's Day everyone *obnoxious giggles*
And a Lifetime movie marathon!
Valentine's Day has become a competition, a rat race of sorts. We compete to see who can have the best story to tell all of their friends who did what I plan on doing: Absolutely nothing. Since when should we compete over who got the best chocolate sampler?!

I think this is me, officially boycotting holidays.

For The Benefit Of Mr. Kite There Will Be A Show Tonight On Trampolines

Just learned my first song on guitar!
Can you say Mary Had A Little Lamb?!

You Waited By The Window, I Waited By The Door.

Lately, I have been okay. Utterly bored to the point of it being near tragic, but good. Nothing rather eventful has occured. Some things have become straightened out, some more muddled, much like my bedroom. It's getting almost warmer. February Vacation starts tomorrow when I get home. I don't really have many plans yet. Currently listening to Fire on the Mountain by Hanson. Don't mock me, I like the former MMmBop-ers. My nails are blue. Eighties dance was Friday. It was an interesting experience. I have nothing else in particular to remark on.

Ketchup.

(Note: This title is a pathetic attempt at being funny and clever. Try to ignore it).

I haven't posted in a while. I've just had nothing to post about. . . And I've been a little busy blog-wise, becoming acquainted with my three other blogs. . . It's a problem.
I have nothing really to post. I'm just going to stop now.

Quick post.

Current Mood: Frustrated, because I'm working really hard at this and not progressing at all.
Current Song: Nothing, for once. Metronome?
Current Thought: Nothing, just angry noise.

To E and N. Clarifications.

Now that I'm calm, I would like to say that I'm not mad at anyone, especially the one of you who reads this blog. Referred to as E. You both, and K as well, have been amazing friends to me this year. I was just upset.

Shut Up And Let Me Go.

Current Mood: Angry. No, rather furious.

This is just ridiculous. I'm too angry to put any effort into attempting to sound eloquent and intelligent today. I honestly don't know where to start, but then again I don't even know when this whole thing started. I've been friends with one of my closest friends, let's call her N, for a long time, since around the end of sixth grade. So where on EARTH do people get off basically thinking that I have to go through *them* to get to my good friend, no one of my *best* friends? I honestly don't understand when the girls who say mean, downright rude things to you get to practically run your life. Honestly, I'm curious. If you're reading this, and you know who you are, why is it that I can't hang out with my friend on Friday nights? Because it would piss you off? Or because you "called dibs" or something sick like that when you made fun of her and played it off as a joke?
It sickens me to hear what you say about her to her face. That is a TWISTED friendship. So yes, I hope you make a comment in front of me. Don't consider this a threat, a fight instigation, or in any way a mean message. It's a reality check. You're mean to her, and then proceed to get mad if I want to spend a Friday night with her.

I Need A Fix Cause I'm Going Down

Current State: Rather uncomfortable despite the fact that I'm in the ugliest sweats I own.
Current Song: Dear Prudence, Across The Universe Version.
Current Mood: In a mood. That's about all there is.

I'm in a mood.
In case you hadn't previously figured that.
I'm in one of those combat boot, stomp in a mud puddle, crush flowers, hating the world, black eyeliner, warpaint, scoweling mood. I'm not positive what has put me into this mood. I think it may be the people I'm forced to be around, living in Connecticut. You know. THOSE girls. The ones like I used to be. Let me profile them for you. I was not one of THESE girls through and through, but I had most of the characteristics. You can guess which parts were not me, because I'm a good kid.

THOSE girls:
THOSE girls are the girls with the blonde hair with hair products that soaked into their brains, making them think that londe meant dumb. They wear strictly Abercrombie and Fitch and Hollister, and Old Navy is practically a dirty word, usually accompianied by a crinkle of their ski slope noses. They claim to love rap, rock, or some other form of "hardcore" music. These are the girls who have a large circle of friends who all hate each other, but know they look good together, and therefore continue to hang out. They're completely boy crazy, using the terms "Like" "Hot" and "OMIGAWD!" every other sentence. They chew gum loudly, as though it's some kind of mating call to the opposite sex*. They belch and do not excuse themselves, and often have terrible manners*. They speak as though it is rather glamerous to have a New York accent, "Nawt" and "Gawd"-ing everything they say. They're often doing things way before their time*. They gossip ferociously, and are convinced they can "take" anyone who gets in their way of what they want. These are the girls who, at twelve, thought they were the epitome of cool sneaking into a PG-13 movie. These are the girls you see at the mall shrieking with all of their friends, and you resist the urge to punch each of them in the face.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about THOSE girls. Specifically, myself when I was one of THOSE girls. What had I been thinking? Why did I change? My only answer to these questions is I don't know. But thank goodness I did.

*Most obviously things I never did.

You Electrify My Life

I suppose I should give updates on what's occurred in my life for the past week. (Hah, I say that as though something interesting has happened.)
Monday was school, the day that I became incredibly sick. When I went home, it turned out that I had a one hundred and two fever. After sleeping on and off, I ended up being up half the night with another fever. Mom stayed up with me applying various ice packs to my head. Tuesday I was home sick, too ill to take my English Midterm. I only missed two hours of testing anyway. We had a well deserved snow day Wednesday, and a delay Thursday, in which I went to school for four hours and took two midterms. Friday brought a Biology midterm that I'm rather unsure about. I don't understand Science at all. I can't tell you much from my last three years of Science classes. Friday night, Jess, Steph and I saw The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. It was possibly one of the saddest movies I've ever seen. Today was more of nothing. I got sick (literally), but after that I was fine. Well enough to do my Single Ladies Dance over and over. That song will never get old for me.

Here I am again, Saturday night. This is actually one weekend where I didn't have much planned. I've been spending a lot of time with Jess and Steph. I kind of like it.

Tomorrow is Superbowl Sunday. I do not follow football, but my cousin Jess is coming over with her family, which should be fun if I hide my guitar. I love my guitar, but unfortunately, so does everyone else. I don't really appreciate people touching my Edward Anthony Masen Cullen.

Oh! Speaking of Edward, I've been to two guitar lessons! I've learned the E, A, and D chords, along with some finger exercises and I've done a little note reading. I love it so much. Every time a new little callus pops up on my fingers, I feel like Kim Possible. It's really not a big deal.

Nothing else has really occurred. I'm not too interesting

We, Too, Could Be Glorious.

To One,
Even when I try to be supportive, or attempt to be a good friend, I am wrong. However, if I'm clearly always at fault (You never said anything about that, by the way), why do you continue to stay my friend. You know exactly how to make me feel worth nothing. I'm a little tired of continually being put down (Unintentionally or intentionally as it may be), stepped on, kicked in the face, and blamed. I work so hard for you. I'll never forget the time you told me that a friendship should be effortless. If that is true, what do we have? An apprenticeship? Am I supposed to work my way up into friendship? Because if a friendship is supposed to require no work, I put in an awful lot.

To Another,
I beg for you to notice me. For the moment, this is all I ask for.
Thank you for being you.

"It Was My Last Act of Love." -Sylvia Plath

Sitting in the mah computer lab with my Franglais class. I should be preparing for my midterm on Friday, but the air conditioner is running so high that I can't concentrate. I doubt cold air is necessary to make anything reheat, considering that there are only enough computers on for the twelve or so students in my class. I'm wearing a sweat shirt, a scarf, and a North Face fleece jacket that I wear in the dead of winter, and I am still shaking. I plead child abuse, this is ridiculous. I plan on writing a very strongly worded letter to the principal the moment I get home.
It may not help that I'm fairly sure I'm already sick. Something in my hacking cough and aching joints that suggest it. Nowhere in this entire school is warm enough to escape my chill.
I have seven or so minutes left in the period. Seven long, shaking minutes. Even the hands on the clock waver as the minute hand inches closer to the time I desire. It seems to be going backward? Must look into this. My first midterm tomorrow should be interesting when the silence is shattered by my digusting cough. Four minutes. I can do this. I can do this. . . .

I cannot do this. Here is my plan. The second I finish typing this post I will throw back my chair, grab my books and run to the biology wing. From there, I should be warm huddled under the warmest vent in the school, that practically sends out fire. If I keep my layers on, I shouldbe comfortable in my chorus class next, that has a climate similar to Africa. And then from there I will run as fast as possible to my homeroom, throw my course selections at my teacher, grab my schedule and go.

One more minute. Success.

Short Post

It's weird to think that people actually read this. That someone, somewhere, who I most likely know (But who cares) actually cares what I have to say. I find it almost bizarre. Sometimes, I forget that this is even on the internet. But right now, I'm tired of just ranting and raving about myself. I'm really curious as to what you have to say. So here's a quick survey. If you read this post, please fill it out. Your responses will be greatly appreciated, and I will most likely respond. I suppose I'd just like to know about you more.

1. Your name?
2. Your favorite color?
3. If you could be a dragon, a flying camel, or an invisible bus driver, which would you be and why?
4. What is your favorite emoticon?
5. State your standings on Twilight: Team Edward, Team Jacob, Team Switzerland, Team I NEVER READ TWILIGHT, LEAVE ME ALONE, or Team I Have Yet To Read This.
6. Comment ca va?
7. QUICK! NAME A COLOR AND A TOOL!
8. Would you like to take the stupid test?
9. What would you say is your biggest fear?
10. What are your feelings about sewer grates? Friend or foe?

If I have not previously stated, I'm weird. And genuinely curious.
And now I'm off to The Chef's Table to see Kicking Daisies and some RUSH cover band? Maybe?

ROAR you later.

Check Yes Juliet Here's The Countdown, Three, Two, One You'll Fall In My Arms Now

Welcome to Midterms week. Basically one of the two weeks during the school year where everyone hates each other, everyone hates their teacher, and nobody cares about personal appearance because they're too busy cramming in what they were too lazy to learn before. They may as well retitle it Self Centered Week. Everyone assumes they're the only one who has to study, the only one who will do badly, the only one whose parents care about their grades. I have a few words for you all.

Dear Self-Centered Students At BHS,

Hi, my name is Jessica. You may know me, since I've been listening to you gripe and cry about your PERFECTLY FINE GRADES ALL YEAR. You may know me personally, or I may just be that girl who's unfortunate enough to stumble upon your conversation as I people watch.
Let me put you into catagories for organizational purposes.

A. The Honors Students.
These students are my personal favorite. They like to complain about how much pressure they're under alll the "*whiney voice* timeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. My parents are like, totally on my back! I suck and Mommy and Daddy hate me, that's why they paid for these fifty dollar jeans, my credit card, and whatever I ask them forrrrrrrr. Ughhhh my life sucksssssssssssssssssssss!". Here is a newsflash for you, honors student. If you can't handle an honors course, don't take it. Your parents don't have to approve it. They can't make you take an honors course. And just because you're *in* an honors course, doesn't mean that you're smarter than everyone. I particularly hate the girls (It's ALWAYS only girls) who condescend me because I'm not in an honors class. All I have to say is that I'm fairly sure I'd rather do well in an academic class and know that I'm intelligent enough to know when I'm suitable for a higher class, than to take every honors course thrown at me and complain about my bad grades later.
A sub category of The Honors Student is The Perfectionist. The perfectionist is the student who complains about Bs. Excuse me while I fight the urge to hit some sense into you. Do not tell me that my B's are a good grade and then complain that B's are simply not good enough for you. What are you trying to say? That B's are okay for me, I'm not going anywhere after all. No, clearly I am mentally challenged and a B is fabulous for me, but Heaven forbid you get a B. The apocolypse must be looming if you do *thunderous gasp* As well as Jessica. Because I'm clearly challenged, and matching in grades is such an insult.
I'm honestly offended. I know for a fact that I'm not challenged, I'm sorry I removed the stick from my butt and realized that a B is a GOOD GRADE. I swear to myself that the next time someone complains about their honors course, their parental pressures, or their terrible B+, I will say something.

B. The Slacker.
The Slacker is a new breed of the Honors Student. They don't do anything at all, and then complain about how they don't get it and are failing. All I have to say is HELLO! TRy DOING SOMETHING LIKE THE REST OF US, PLEASE.

I'm getting very frustrated even thinking about these two types that consume my school. As if Midterms weren't enough. But I have a few words for all of you.
The Honors Student: Shut up or stop complaining.
The Pefectionist: A B is a fine grade. Cool yourself. Or just shut up.
The Slacker: Step up your game. Or shut up.
I think what I'm trying to get at is that everyone needs to just get over themselves and start studying. Present company probably included.

None Of Us Thought It Was Going To End That Way

Currently, I'm singing. It's a vain attempt to clear my head and keep from crying. I honestly do not understand people. Why do we do these things to ourselves? A vast majority of human suffering is self-caused. If only we would listen to the inner hermit in all of us and keep to ourselves. Friendships and relationships are our downfall. We've made it so that once we step into that feeling of comfort with a person, there's no turning back. The second you step into the ice water that is human relationships, there is no turning back. Friendships and relationships are, in fact, a lot like an icy pond at the beginning of spring, when it just starts to get warm. You have to muster the strength to get in, and when you do, it's a shock. For a while, things are good, enjoyable even. You float on the surface for a while, tentatively almost, until you muster the energy to dive in. It's an awkward yet comfortable dive. You feel at ease in the darkness. But eventually, you must come up for air. And you crash through the glassy surface of the water. You gasp to fill your lungs with the reality that is necessary for survival.
Survival is now my main priority. I plan on leaving the pond that is dependancy on my friendships and relaionships. Friends are starting to feel like an exhausting waste of time. I have run out of air to stay under, even when it feels like I want to explode, I've told myself that it's best to stay here, with the people who love you.
My best friends barely talk to me anymore. I feel exposed without them.

Cold water robs the body's heat 32 times faster than cold air.

Friends who refuse to speak to you rob you of your sanity 99 times faster than cold water.

Give Him Your Love, Give Him Your Love To Save Him

Some Rage Against The Machine quotes. In study, procrastinating in the library. This computer is hard to type on, but it may just be that my frozen fingers are having trouble typing. Here we go.

Life is prison, no parole, no control
-Without A Face

When I tried to cross tha white walls
Walk unseen past tha graves an tha gates, born without a face
One motive no hope ah, born without a face
Walk unseen past tha graves an tha gates, born without a face
One motive no hope ah, born without a face

You say fortify, reaction, you divide
And you say fortify, reaction, reaction
And you say fortify, reaction, reaction
You say fortify, reaction, you divide

-Without a Face


The hills find peace
Locked armed guard posts
Safe from the screams
Of the children born as ghosts
-Born As Ghosts

It's a beautiful world we live in
A sweet romantic place
Beautiful people everywhere
The way they show they care makes me want to say
It's a beautiful world
Oh what a beautiful world
For you

It's a wonderful time to be here
It's nice to be alive
Wonderful people everywhere
The way they comb their hair makes me want to say
It's a wonderful place
Oh what a wonderful place
For you, for you, for you, for you, for you, for you, not me
-Beautiful World

You can kill the revolutionary
But you can't kill the revolution
-Can't Kill the Revolution.

Last Straw. I'm Tired Of This.

All this time I was wasting hoping you would come around
I’ve been giving out chances everytime and all you do is let me down
And its taking me this long but baby I figured you out
And you think it will be fine again but not this time around

You don’t have to call anymore
I won’t pick up the phone
This is the last straw
Don’t want to hurt anymore
And you can tell me that you’re sorry
But I won’t believe you baby like I did before
You’re not sorry no more, no more, no

Description of My Town.

This is what I handed in as a description as my town.

There is a constant sense of discomfort in **********, whether it is the unbearable summer swelter that leaves a sticky sheen of sweat on your skin, the bitter winds of winter that no amount of expensive sweaters can keep from chilling your bones, or the feeling of arrogance that settles over the people. **********, the small town in Connecticut where there seems to be a constant sense of boredom and dismay, where the latest trend is suffering, and we have all played the pity party game. Teenagers practice their looks of tortured angst; they have nothing to complain about. The sidewalks are comparable to the conversation in this small town- leading to nowhere, yet offering no escape, and scarce, like the number of intelligent conversations not consumed with complaints about the money that burns a hole in everyone's pockets. Escape is the common dream among teenagers, who discuss the glamorous places they'd escape to, school in The City, California; vacations on cruise ships escorting them across the ocean to places better than here. The mothers are career women or stay-at-home-moms, who make desperate attempts to be "One of the Girls" with their mortified daughters; the stench of embarrassment floating over the town like a cloud, a shadow. Fathers heading off to work with their briefcases, play the ever-present and always important Daddy. Boys, skateboards tucked under their arms, are too cool for this. They have better things to do, the sense of a hidden agenda gleaming in their eyes, hidden by shaggy hair of all colors. The houses, here with their green trimmed lawns, landscapers mowing away, stand nest to the more average abode of the more humble family. No matter who ou are, there will always be a sense of **********, not always detectable, but there nonetheless, a gleaming badge of honor to some, a bruise to others. Welcome to **********, Home of the Poseur. Hope you can handle the heat.