Archive | August, 2010


31 Aug

Well: tomorrow is the real First Day Of Senior Year.
I am not sure how to feel about this.
One side of my brain is rejoicing because I kind of (truth be told) like school and the busywork and the socializing. The other half is cursing and raving because goddammit, I have to deal with college prep. Fucking college prep. I hate Mrs. N with all my heart, I wish our school had a better and more understanding college counselor, but no. We’re stuck with her.
I’m not going to think about that now. I have to be up at 6 AM tomorrow, so I’m going to stop writing and go to sleep already.
Will write more later detailing important stuff.

the tempest

30 Aug

dude, whoever’s in charge of those hurricane names needs to get with the times. I mean, “Earl”? “EARL”? That is just lame. That is not a hurricane name, that is the name of your slightly ghetto ex-girlfriend’s boyfriend who drives a Kawasaki and doesn’t know how to find the asymptote of a rational equation, not than he’d ever want to. Not exactly a name to strike fear into the hearts of millions.

I think I should submit names to whatever committee is responsible. This hurricane, for example, would be named “Eduardo,” because it makes me think of Pedro’s cousins from Napoleon Dynamite, who are tough and hilarious and also have a soft side, for the ladies. Maybe they just need more pseudo-Hispanic names, that would be infinite swellness.

SO! The hurricane! It is hurricaning overtop of us right now, it is actually not that bad despite being Category 3. So far I’ve noticed nothing flying uncontrollably around, which is a nice reassuring sight. It’s raining like hell, though. And wind-ing. The trees are bending backwards all over the place, branches have fallen, you know, stuff like that. I know I sound really nonchalant about it. It’s kind of par for the course by this point.

School has also been cancelled for tomorrow, since there was a power pole that fell right in front of the school that needs to be revived. Also there’ll be loads of sticks and leaves and other debris laying around which will need to be picked up ‘n crap. Woo?

And as for what I’ve been doing today: basically, I took a bath, I overdosed on Capslock_Bleach over at LiveJournal (no, I do not have a livejournal, having this blog and a tumblr is more than enough), I sort of cleaned out my closet, I sort of cleaned off my desk, I sort of drew some stuff but lost steam halfway through. And thusly, my day.

Will write more as I find out more about the storm/find stuff to write about.

i would rather be

29 Aug

I am ridiculously cosy right now.
Allow me to elaborate: I am curled up in my bed, a pillowy “nest” surrounding me, coffee sitting comfortably in my stomach, White Denim playing on thr stereo, my Yellow Book somewhere on my bed, wearing my comfiest pair of sweatpants and some huge shirt. I am warm and full and very very happy. I have transcended my neutrality, for god’s sake. I am pretty damn content.
Why, you ask, have I placed myself in this fuzzy nucleus of comfiness? I have answers: Hurricane Earl.
For those readers who don’t know, I currently live on a tiny rock in the Caribbean. The tiny rock belongs (along with two other tiny rocks) to the US, and operates under the designation of a United States Virgin Island. I’m not telling you which one, I’m just cautious like that. Anyway. For the past couple months, we’ve been keeping our eyes on the National Weather Center’s reports and forecasts, watching the tropical depressions roll off of Africa and come waltzing over here.
And so it just so happened that yesterday an innocuous little tropical storm graduated and became Hurricane Earl. Dear Earl’s predicted path takes him right over our little rock, probably blowing some stuff around and raining a ton. All which is well and good; we are prepared for this, and so the hurricane shutters on everyone’s houses are shut, store windows are carefully boarded and latched closed, outside furniture is stashed in sheds and garages. We’ve defended ourselves as best we can: now all that’s left is for us to wait for the storm to start and cease.
It’s a pretty ordinary thing here.

Well, today I went to Buck Island with Genna and Lil and Kiaya, tubed and pretty much tore my arms out of their sockets (owwwww), got buried and was given sand-boobs as big as cantaloupes (lolwhut), rinsed off, ate a lot of Church’s Chicken and winced as my inner vegetarian lectured me, went to Genna’s dad’s house and watched her fold clothes for a while, finally drove home and took a shower and helped with dinner and lay down and got supah comfy.
I am so good at writing run-on sentences. It’s a talent of mine.


(seaworthy vessels)

28 Aug

Title is a good name for a band, I think, maybe if you wrote a lot of nautical shanties or something. Hm. I think I may have stumbled upon a good idea here. I shall ponder that possibility.

Today! Listened to the Twilight soundtrack in the car like eighteen times because of my sister, who had taken hold of the copilot’s seat and kept replaying it. Now I have that one song that goes “nanana, I’ll flay you alive, na na na na nu nu na na” swirling around my head over and over and over again. Annoying as hell. I think I hate whoever did that soundtrack, because all the songs sound the same after a while: same drumbeat, same singer, slightly different guitar chords. By the time I got out of the car I needed an infusion of the weirdest band I knew, so I put CocoRosie and Dungen on and that helped a lot.
Also, got a haircut! Yay! My dad stopped yelling at me about my hair (he does this often in the middle of dinner, so I’ve got a mouthful of food I have to swallow before saying some contrite remark), which is a good way to start the school year. One less person yelling at me: GOOD!
AND THEN, and this was pretty exciting to me, I figured out what I’m going to do for my senior Yearbook page. It will be the most awesome thing. I will post my works in progress up here so you alls may see the majesty of my photoshop skillz.
I also drew a little map that I need to add on to of the area of Paris I know by heart. I will also post it up here as soon as I’m done adding on. It’s a pretty big map.

TOMORROW: going to Buck Island with Genna and Lil, hopefully will have a good time if not well screw it; going to finish my map; printing out my motherfucking resumé, fuck fuck fuck; figuring out what to wear tomorrow (not hard); maybe downloading more Tame Impala/CocoRosie/the other tracks off of False Priest that I haven’t heard yet; putting looseleaf in all my binders; being awesome (hopefully).
The days are just PACKED.

will write more later.
Also, thanks, readers. You might not know it, but I kind of depend on your existence. It’s nice to realize that someone out there, doesn’t matter who, is reading your words, understanding the images you’re putting forth. You’ve collectively gotten me through some hard times (though you might not’ve known it), given me a reason to write, to recount, to explode and let my anger out. Thanks. I hope one day I can help you all out as well.

i don’t mean to close the door, but

27 Aug

Oh, today:
Woke up from a wonderful intensely detailed dream that I proceeded to slowly forget. It involved an empty bathtub, a hardwood-paneled board room, sneakers, me flailing from being tickled, that sort of thing. And lo, was it AWESOME.
Anyway, once I was good and properly awake, suddenly had an intense craving for cookies. So I made some. This is all at about 9 in the morning, my sister is still waking up and I’m running around like some sort of Adderall demon with baked goods in my mouth trying to remember the details of my dream by saying them out loud and acting all the different parts out, while having Yeasayer blasting in the background.
And then I took a shower, ate breakfast, and suddenly felt absolutely terrible.
For the rest of the day, I lay langouriously in repose and tried not to focus too much on the ripping snarling pain working its way through my stomach. Luckily it wasn’t absolutely mind-splattering pain, so I was able to get up and do a few things (paint, do dishes, eat more cookies).

And now here I am.


Will write more later.


26 Aug

my mind is moving from

one point to the next- it

is never a clean and disinfected process

though i would like to think so, sometimes,

hands reaching and eyes wide

as i tumble downwards into the unknown,

sometimes my ally but more often the fear that strikes

as i lay myself down

and fight the swirling=rounds of my subconciousness


Not a bad day, really, but school is approaching like a goddamned wave and there is not much I can do against it but stubbornly continue to paint things on my desk and write okay poetry in my Yellow Book, which I need to scan or something soon and then put online so Mary Liza can cure her “looking into my subconcious” fix. My love-life is more pathetic than interesting, Mary Liza, I am sorry to say. There is a lot more speculating than actual doing. I should stop that, actually.

THIS YEAR: since there is maybe half a person in my class that I find attractive and he is not interested, like at all, and I didn’t even need to mourn that anyway, I am going to stay out of that whole “love” shindig. It will actually be easy. I think. I hope. I have my Poet, I have my memories, and well I have my friends to keep me happy. It’ll be a sort of test, I suppose.

And if something (unlikely) happens, well, I’m going to be nice about it, but turn it down. I’m not quite ready enough to start anew on a new adventure in that regard. I still need my time. I still need a little space to heal and learn to move again. And when I can, well, we’ll see what happens, now shan’t we?


Will write later.

brother sport

25 Aug

Well: I woke up this morning and my mom forced me to come with her into her office for the day and shred papers and play Flash games and dawdle. And get lunch. That was basically my day, though at some point I saw Beth and said hi. Yay!
I actually just finished pimpin’ out some of the free touristy postcards they have at strategic locations here. I take the blandest ones, stick my sticky paper overtop, and paint my own postcard. So far I’ve done a ukulele, a dinosaur, and the queen of clubs (who I think is the best one because it’s super distorted and weiiiird), and written the messages on the first two thus far. I don’t know who the queen’s gonna go to, but it’ll have to go before school starts else I’ll never get around to it. I have designs on that innocent postcard. You’ll see.

Also going to probably send one to Of Montreal and congratulate them on False Priest, whenever the hell that comes out. I am exciteddddd~~! Will it be better than Skeletal Lamping? Most signs point to yes!

And the neutrality? It’s back. I am very glad it’s back. I don’t want to be shaken up as school begins, that would be probable hell.

Haven’t got much for y’all today. Sorry, sugarpies. I try my best.
Will write more later.


24 Aug

Been trying to get relatively mentally prepared for school, since it is one of those things that jarrs me into wakefulness and reminds me that there are actually other people out there. I haven’t gone anywhere in the last few days, well besides Orenda’s party, which was fun and rather tasty. (Her mom can cook.)
Been listening to a lot more Radiohead and Dungen than usual, which is nice for a change. I wore Franz Ferdinand out over the last two weeks, I’m giving them a break. Currently listening to that Brazilian Girls song, “Pussy,” that is actually decent sortareggae/ska with magnificent (I may dare say glorious) lyrics. I’d actually recommend it.

Narrative of France trip will continue in the near future, though I don’t think anyone’s as excited about reading the completed thing as I am. Whatever, I’m writing it anyway because I said I was going to. That is reason enough.

Still wondering what’ll come of the Poet and me: how things will proceed. I have this strange memory of us talking over the heads of everyone trying to leave the auditorium. Actually pretty funny, to tell the truth, but moments like that are when I thank god for giving me long-ass femurs. Yay being tall! It is sometimes handy, I swear. Being short would be nice if you wanted to be compact, but I can be suprisingly compact for someone as large as me. There’s a lot of folding involved, take my word for it.

Hm, trying to think of anything else to drabble about–um, False Priest? Excited. I want to hear this record. If it is as bad as Skeletal Lamping I may cry to Kevin Barnes and ask him hackneyed questions like “how could you do this to yr fans?!” and he’d be all “daaaamn i like it, betch” and then do some Sunlandic walk away and swing his hips like a drag queen. I would be rendered speechless.

S’bout it for now.
Will write tomorrah.

recounting & counting

23 Aug

MKAY, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, let’s see how well I can.
Basically,  I want to write down all I remember from Paris in one convenient place so I can read over it in my old age and  think “man I used to be so ridiculous, what happened?”



The first day, as far as I can remember, consisted of me getting up at like nine and then waiting for my mom to get ready (an hour-long process that involves hairdryers and six different outfits meticulously chosen), then hoicked my backpack and suitcase down the stairs of the rented apartment and out onto the street. We walk to the metro and I’m bursting with excitement, all “oh dang, what if I meet someone who speaks Swedish, and then we’ll be friends, and then aaahhhh!!!” My parents are barely putting up with me. My sister is feeling left out.

We finally emerge from the metro and get lost for about five minutes, go to a store and buy me a towel (yay!) then walk down the Amorino road (Rue d’Assas? Something like that.) and onward to the hallowed Lycee De Notre Dame de Sion. By this time I’m jumping around, excited as fuck and eager to meet the people I see in the front office. I get my key. I take the sketchy elevator up to my room. My roommate isn’t there yet, so I kind of unpack and then run back down to say goodbye to my parents and then rejoice in their absence.

And then I try to make friends.

The first group of people I talk to, waiting for the neighborhood tour to begin, involve Cam and Graydon and Chris and some other fabulous folks whose names I don’t remember that well. (I’m sorry.) We start talking, I introduce myself (“I’m Blare! I live in the Caribbean. I’m going to be a senior.” “You’re tall!” “I know.”) and in a few minutes we leave to explore and find out where we are, exactly.

I find out the main facts about Graydon (lives in LA, going to be a junior) and Cam (lives in Boston, also a senior, half Canadian) as we walk, and laugh way too loudly and piss off Lea and Alex a little, who are currently being our momma hens. We live by Monoprix! And Amorino’s! And a little boulangerie! SWELL. We all are pretty googly-eyed by this point, and traipse back to the Lycee chatting.

Then, lounging in Graydon’s room, we meet his roommate Billy, and we talk for a while before going downstairs to “mingle.” I meet Kyna and Giselle and some other people. Say hi to Wil, Will, and Josh, kind of look askance at all the other people who seem like they’ve known each other for years. Go to eat. Explore a little bit. Come home with ice cream and then go up to Graydon and Billy’s room. I meet my roommate, she turns out to be named Jordan and seems like an okay person, which is good. Go back down to G&B’s room and talk more before midnight, when I go back to my room, talk to Jordan for half an hour, then try to fitfully sleep.

(now, the narrative becomes much more simplified.)

Day 2: Wake up around six, shake the sleep out of my eyes, go and take a shower. I’m the only one chipper enough to be awake at this hour, so I’m alone: go back, get dressed, look through our Welcome Packet and write in my Yellow Book. Wake Jordan up at 7:45ish, go downstairs and use one of the computers.
Go up to see if Billy and Graydon are ready yet, they are, we go downstairs and eat. First day of classes, honorary welcome-here assembly. The lot of us meet Richard, who immediately commands every ounce of my respect, though with good reason. Our teachers are on the stage and lead us to the classrooms. I am led off by Luc, my Psych teacher, who is nothing like I’d expected and is  short and bespectacled and about twenty-odd years old. The classroom is on the third floor. I rediscover my hatred for stairs.
He tells us the main syllabus, we nod and smile obligingly, and then after who knows how long it’s time for lunch. I go down to the Winter Palace, meet the dwarves and Weed Brownie (long story), and we go to the boulangerie on the corner. We eat in the Luxembourg Gardens and then wander back for minors.

My Art teacher is Paul Laufer, a bit of a legend in the program because he’d taught his class for 8 years and every other year his wife is having a baby. We are on a baby year. Paul is very excited about his baby. I meet Sophia, who is short, Bulgarian, and absolutely hilarious; Ofelia, who is Spanish and amazing; and Mary Liza, who is from Tennessee and makes me think of the epitome of a Southern Belle, though probably the mental twin of Sophia. We go out to the Lux Gardens and do a draw/paint of some fountains, just so Paul can gauge our skills. I feel proud of my little doodles.

Go back to the Lycee, the Dwarves assemble, we take the metro to Les Halles because all the Dwarves (except me) need phones. (in this case, “Dwarves” includes me and Kyna as well.)  We sit and wait for Giselle to negotiate with the employees in english, then surface from the halls into the Tuileries. There is a carnival going on. Graydon and Billy insist on riding a ridiculous spinny ride called Rainbow, one that we become very, very familiar with. Very, very familiar. They disembark all smiley, then we check the time and decide to mosey on home.

We eat dinner somewhere. I can’t remember.

Talking, talking, back to my room, sleep.

DAY THREE (and now I start really simplifying things)

Wake up, shower, dress, downstairs and breakfast. Go to class, listen to Luc, learn about personality types and read some case studies which are actually fairly interesting, though at the moment I am one of the only ones awake enough to care. Class ends, only major today so go down to meet the dwarves.

Dwarves assemble! We leave to go…uh, somewhere? I think Collette. I’m not sure. This day is kind of loopy for me. We do something, we come home and Billy goes “Is there a piano? I wanna play a piano. Real  Rull bad.”

We find a piano downstairs in the Teachers’ Room, though there are no teachers at the moment, and so Billy sits down and everyone’s jaws drop. The boy can play. (I have a video of it somewhere, but I’m far too lazy to upload it right now, so one of these days look out for it. Mkay?)

Then, upstairs, dinner, talking, watching the movie Billy made of his grandma talking about ghosts (“GOATS?!”) and laughing. Back upstairs, sleep.


DON’T REMEMBER MUCH except the hand-holding incident, and subsequent mental freeeeek-ouuuuuttt.




Saturday! Still had classes. I think I went to the Swatch store in Les Halles and bought a new band. The peeps who want to go to the Morning Benders concert.


and then dinner at La Coupole, I think. I order tripe. Ew.

DAY EIGHT– okay, I don’t remember much else on specific days, except the last two. So I suppose I’ll just write the little scenes, feel free to mix & match with the order.
=====MISC. DAYS=====

At some point, there was a Sushi Class sign-up thingy that I decided to join in on, spur-of-the-moment like. This led to meeting Nick, talking to Nick, going into the most awesome candy store I’d ever seen and buying three lollipops, walking across the street with Nick and watching him trying to open one of said lollipops and failing, me trying to help him but also failing, culminating in him dropping the damn thing in the middle of the street and looking absolutely heartbroken for a few seconds. I asked him if he wanted one of mine, and he said “naw, I at least held the greatness of it in my hand for a few minutes. That’s about enough.” Then we followed Lea to get bubble tea, which no matter how stridently I try to enjoy is just too fucking gross- and walked to a park and sat and talked and drank bubble tea for about three hours until we looked up, noticed no one was there, looked at our watches, and realized it was kind of time to get home. Thus initiated a magnificent Metro ride back, and more chatting as we walked back to the Lycee.
I was pretty happy.

You know what, I’ll finish this in a separate post, okay? It’s getting kinda long.


maybe sometimes

22 Aug

I hate, hate, hate Facebook drama.
So far, in the last month, I’ve been nearly brought to tears twice: once because the main people I hung out with in Paris all defriended me over the course of two days, with no prior explanation, leaving me with no way to contact them whatsoever and stuck in the proverbial dust.
Second one happened about five seconds ago, when I realized that Kyna no longer showed up as anything but “Facebook User.” Cue freak out, as I went to a bunch of people’s profiles making sure that it wasn’t just me, wasn’t a bug. She deleted her account, I think, which makes me feel a little better because I understand the whole business now (but I won’t be able to see her pictures! DANG). I also still have ways to contact her! Yay! Friendship will go on!

But now my inner peace has been skewed and I no longer feel quite so great. I must think of peach light and zeppelins. I need to take a few deep breaths and try to let this whole business roll off like water on a duck’s back.

I think that as the year rolls on, the defriendings and other random acts of cruelty will disappear and vanish. Maybe. In any case, I won’t feel them as much. My memories will suffice.
I know which ones will still hurt, though.

((((((wading out of the caverns))))))