Archive | April, 2010

like apples in the ground

30 Apr

We’re going to melt away.

Tomorrow is the day that most of the junior class has been dreading: SAT day. Oh, lordy. I have my #2 pencils all nicely sharpened on my dresser, sitting proudly atop my calculator. I am not that worried. I am not really worried at all, come to think of it. It is just another test, just another chance to see what exactly I know. (And I, apparently, know a lot.)
But I’m glad this week finally ended- it was long, and humid, and absolutely unbearable.
But I’ve written that all before, so there is pretty much no change in the current situation, besides that I earned some brownie points. Woo! I am pointeriffic.

My room smells like an opium den at the moment, as I burned some incense earlier and the scent hasn’t diffused out of here. I’m not complaining, though, as somehow it is very comforting and quiet. I need to fix some of the drawings on the wall, though.

Anyway. Been listening to Ambling Alp a lot more often, it is going on the Rec. Listening page along with Life Magazine as soon as I can edit it. Till then, keep those songs in mind.

Will write tomorrow, though not about SAT questions as the higher-ups will have my hide.

life magazine

28 Apr

Just finished reading “A Million Little Pieces” by James Frey, I am feeling very profound and wrote a few pages in my seeecret journal that no one will ever read.
Ever.
Ever.
Pretty word, isn’t it?

Anyway- what I actually wanted to write about, after feeling supremely profound and going off on tangents relating to Neptune and Jove and other Roman gods and Freya and Odin, with his one eye and his ravens and his mead, was that I think Staralfur (new code name for a different person than I usually write about, ie not Taschen) is afraid of me.
Okay, I can understand this, as Staralfur and I have a bit of a history together. Not in the lovey-dovey friendship way. No. We have never really been friends, but there was a time where we were pretty damn close and I fucked it up with my big mouth. Again, no specifics, but I felt horrible and sat in a corner singing Hoppipolla over and over to myself trying to think of what I’d done wrong, and how to fix it.
I am not very good at fixing things, and you should know that.
Anyway, after that happened, we began to talk less and less, and now it seems that Staralfur avoids me purposefully and does not want to speak to me. I do not understand. I do not think Staralfur knows that I have actually gone through a change of heart (sort of) and do not fucking care anymore what is going on in Staralfur’s life, or anything connected to it. I really don’t. I just ask that Staralfur not ignore me or forget I exist, as that is one of my biggest, most crippling phobias.
Seriously.
I am terrified of being ignored or forgotten, which is why most people have a first impression of me being a very loud, impassioned person. That’s true, sometimes, but usually (and especially around people I respect) I am quiet and speak lightly. I have always thought that I can express myself better via writing, as you cannot read a lisp or a stutter or an awkward tilting of pronounciation, all of which I do and all of which I am incredibly insecure about.
I have a lot of things I’m insecure about regarding my body and how I act around other people- but damn, I’m trying to fix that. Somehow, I want to come back to these people in five years and be utterly unrecognisable in how I act and hold myself. I want to be proud of how I am, not apologetic and afraid of others’ opinions.

Also: Life Magazine by Cold Cave. It is fuzzy, catchy, loopy electronica of the sort popularized by Animal Collective. Wonderful.

Will write.

into the midst of

27 Apr

I hate to be so blunt, m’boy, but you have the insanity… of a MANATEE!

The above is a quote from some TV show I don’t watch, but it was on the TVTropes Large Ham page and made me giggle a little. How exactly does one procure the insanity of a manatee? It escapes me.
Anyway, what did I do today? Got my arm coloured by Ryan, which was a pain in the ass to wash off (you’re next, buddyboy), daydreamed through most of my classes, talked about limo-ing to Prom (with Lil and Wil and Kathleen and Ryan and Sam), argued with Jamesey a little for te sake of arguing, cursed Will for having gone to a Spoon concert. (Though mark my words, one day he is going to get really into Dungen or Black Moth Super Rainbow and I’ll have seen them. Haha! My future self is rubbing her hands together evilly!)
Overall, a normal day. Woo!
What I kind of wanted to write about was Vonnegut’s idea of the four-dimentional aliens from Slaughterhouse Five, the…oh, bugger it, can’t remember at the moment. In any case, they were basically hands with eyes in the palm, and spoke telepathically. They saw everything as a series of moments, like looking at an entire mountain range rather than just one peak. They didn’t really “die,” and they knew exactly when they would do so. The thing that really intrigued me, though, was the way they saw humans- like giant millipedes, baby feet on one end and old person feet at the other. They saw all our states of being.
And that got me to thinking- I’d like to see like that. It’d almost be like immortality, ‘cos you’d always be able to look back and see those moments you’d been part of before.
Memory is a pretty wonderful thing.

That’s my two cents.

Will write more later.

(((_______)))

26 Apr

Cannot think of a good enough title, so there you go.
Anyway, today was pretty dang marvellous, besides, you know, the two tests I had to take. But that’s part of the loveliness of junior year!
Oh, sarcasm.

Oh! Oh! Also! I have a date for Prom! I am taking Sam, who is only going willingly because of Kyle (who was the perpetrator of the thirty-odd views I got yesterday that freaked me the hell out). But still! Date! Woo!
I think I’ve overdosed on exclamation points for today, but before I go lemme say:
If you ever have a terrible sore throat, cut a lemon into slices, boil some water, and put some honey in the bottom of your favourite mug. Pour the boiling water in, then float a slice of lemon on top, and let it steep for a good ten-fifteen minutes. Stir it, then drink it. It is lovely. You can also add rum, but I like it better without. (Plus, not really supposed to have rum.)
Will write more tomorrow.

crystal ball, crystal ball

25 Apr

Good day today, went to the beach, baked brownies, studied a little Chem, etc. etc. I am pretty psyched for these next few weeks as they will be MAGNIFICENT and WONDERFUL and will smell like CHOCOLATE ROSES or something. I need better adjectives.
Sort of worried, though, about the sudden influx of unidentified views. I am a little afraid about having a potential stalker…eeeeee.
But that’s alright, I am safe here lying in bed thinking about changing into my pyjamas. I get my room back tomorrow! Hurray and huzzah! Also, I have two tests and College Prep tomorrow, which bugs me a lot, actually. I hate Day 1. I really do.
Oh, what else, what else? Um, I finally read Slaughterhouse 5 and it was positively excellent.
Will write more later.

they answered yes and no

24 Apr

…oh well oh well yes and no.
Ah, of Montreal. You keep me sane and in relative charge of my fine motor skills.
Reason I’m writing so late tonight is ‘cos I just got home from seeing the school’s spring musical, Yesterday’s Dreamers, Tomorrow’s Stars. Or, how they wrote it on a couple posters on some columns: Ÿesterday’s Ðreamers, Tomorrow’s Štars. I do not think they know what those diacritical marks mean, but neither do I so I may be wrong in saying that it looks absolutely idiotic, like some fifth grader discovering how to add special characters in Word or whatever. The posters have been up for about three weeks, and every time I go into the Pavilion I cringe a little bit because of those stupid diacritics. That is not how they should be used! That looks stupid!
The play is four fucking hours long. FOUR HOURS. FOR A SCHOOL PLAY. AUUUUGH.
The whole gimmick of the thing, though, is that it’s an original play written by this New Yorker, Timothy Graphenreed, and it might actually get put on Broadway. Maybe.
Well, it was…okay, and I’m glad I saw it, and I will never speak of it to any theater buff ever in my life. It was cheesy and clichèd and full of stupid statement songs, and worked out to a happy ending as per the usual musical creed.
We watched the entire thing from up where the spotlight crew usually works, and had an excellent view of everyone’s shoes. You don’t normally notice the shoes when someone’s singing, but some of the ones people were wearing were intense. I yelled “Duttyyy!” about six hundred times and Lillian slapped me for it. Genna and her suddenly-presentable manfriend sat next to us looking sickeningly adorable. I think if Wil and Lil were cuddling as well, I would’ve died from sugar overdose. Those couples! They need to get their sweetness factor mellowed out!
Of course, this means that when I get a boyfriend I am not going to miss a chance to be embarrassingly adorable around him with my friends watching. Ahahah! Revenge!
So I will stop writing about that and instead go to sleep, because it is late and I am tired.
Goodnight. Will write more in the morning.

it’s all about perceptions-

24 Apr

Better than the one on the album.

Will write more later.

golden splatter

23 Apr

Been listening to Black Moth Super Rainbow for the better part of two days, is something wrong with me? I’ll never know.
Well, besides od-ing on psychadelica, I went to the beach today and slept in the shade for four hours. It was lovely and I highly recommend that everyone alive do the same. Worth waking up every so often and asking yourself “where the fuck am I?”
Which I did a couple times. Still worth it.
Anyway, what else? Nothing really. Was going to go to the play today, decided against it so I’m going tomorrow. I am pretty sure that someone who knows me and talks to me has to be doing something tomorrow, the problem is finding that hypothetical person and asking them what is up. But meh, I am pretty content sitting at home playing guitar.
Going to buy the Rökurró debut album tomorrow if I get the chance, as I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to find it in France. Damned obscure icelandic bands! Hopefully they’ll have it on either Amazon or eBay.
Also going to make a list of people I am required to meet in my lifetime. A few are already crossed off, I might post it as another page once I delete the ‘m’art’ one. Nothing is of use there. Might delete the “cast of characters” one as well, but I’ll find somewhere to put the pictures ‘cos I worked pretty hard on those, dang it! Especially the girls! I hate drawing us womenfolk, the hair is too hard.
Meh, still sick.
Oh! Oh! Oh! I was messing about on the Failblog page when I came across some fashion fail blog (same network of blogs) and they had this lovely picture smacked right there. Which is at the bottom of this post.
According to this guy’s website (circa 1996), http://www.pixyland.org/peterpan/petersFashionPage.html, he thinks he’s a pixie on the inside.
And dresses up like that.

Whooooooaaaa.

Will write more when my brain grasps this nonsense.

tiny vessels

22 Apr

It rained, finally, and made everything grey and cold and cosy. The nice thing about living here is knowing when it’s going to rain- it gets humid, more humid, more humid, until suddenly the sky bursts into a million tiny droplets.
Today was good. I may venture to say that today was marvellous, in fact. Just if I wasn’t so preoccupied with how Taschen sometimes makes sudden eye contact with me and shivers me out of my skin… It is still okay, because I don’t care about Magdelene. I mean, not in the jealous bitchy way- I think she is a very nice and goofy person, and I am pretty sure they make a good couple, but that’s me sitting here never having seen them make kissy faces at each other. Which would probably bug me a little. What would really make me mad would be if she opened her eyes while snogging and gave me this impish, evil smile-
Oh, don’t even want to think about what I’d do. But I don’t think she’s the sort of person to do that. I hope.

Will write more once I’m actually home and comfy-womfy.

Protected: no one needs to know we’re feeling

21 Apr

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