Tag Archives: life

in the morning

7 Apr

Oh my.

Things aren’t exactly looking up for my family, financial-wise. We have a buttload of taxes to pay, and my parents are stressing out over it, which osmoses to me and makes me feel a little unbalanced.
So: going to blog.

Well, besides the above, today was alright. I got carcinogenic printing ink on my hands, woo-hoo. I also got hugged like twelve times, which was great and made my day a little better.
Here’s the main reason I started writing this post:
I want to do a cover of the Sigur Rós song Gobbledigook. Desperately. So, I am looking for volunteers to help me, whether they are singing or drumming or clapping. So far I have about four people helping me, which is more than none. If you read this blog and you go to my school, please comment if you would like to help. The song is beautiful and loud and is not that hard to learn, especially if you want to drum. I think we’re going to record it on Friday. Maybe. Possibly. There are a lot of variables. We’ll see how it goes.

Wrote a bunch of poems today, for some reason they are all love poems written from the perspective of an already-established relationship. Weird? Maybe a little.
Or a lot. I don’t know why I can’t write anything but these sappy-ass poems…
Here’s one.

neither Sodom nor Gommora could hold our fire-
we exploded in a cloud of smoke when
our lips first touched- like rose petals brushing
and it sent a crackling, burning spark down my spine.
Let’s burn this place down.
Let’s be the new Prometheus.
We will introduce the world to the smouldering coals in their souls.
We will begin anew/pheonixes rising, rising
Too long to write out all of it, really, and about a third of it is crap. Meh.
I had a creative moment today.

Will write more later- also, this is post 300. I’d like to take this moment to thank you guys for reading, for giving me a reason to write every day. Thanks. I couldn’t have gotten this far without knowing you guys were waiting for my next post.


back to the life

6 Mar

What did I do today?
Let’s see…

-Finally ripped Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band, though I’ve had the CD for probably five years. It was about time I’d gotten around to it. A Day In The Life? Yes!

-Checked my formspring three hundred billion times, no one is asking me questions. -tear-

-Did Chem homework. Hess’ Law! Yay!

-Did Art homework, the assignment was something along the lines of painting something with colour, I did a self-portrait but since I cannot draw realistic noses (especially mine) I have a bandanna over my face, not that you can see much of my face anyway. I’ll take a picture of it and put it up here later.

-Phoned someone about possible job opportunity.

-Made tuna salad.

-Read about six cheesily dramatic short comics, they made me giggle. It’s one of my guilty pleasures in life.

-Listened to Contra maybe five times, skipping Giving Up The Gun (I cannot stand it, cannot stand it.)

-Tried to think up song lyrics, failed, went back to reading cheesy drama comics

-Read the rules for the France programme. Suprisingly, they say nothing about having the opposite sex in your dorm room, or doing questionable things with said member of opposite sex. Hm.

-Downloaded an excellent cover of Animal Collective’s “My Girls”, it is called “My Boys” and is by Taken By Trees. It is not electronic in the least, there is an accordion, the singer’s voice is angelic and sweeping. If you like the original, try this one out. It’s a good redo.

-Tried to learn some Black Keys songs, but I am not nearly good enough as Dan Auerbach at playing speedy licks. Dang! Maybe I need to get an electric guitar…eventually.

-Fed the dog.

-Thought about doing some facepainting, but lost interest.

Suprising lack of angsting, but then again I’ve got nearly nothing left to angst about. Sweet!
Will probably write more later tonight, or tomorrow morning.

i wanna be your only friend

9 Feb

I am utterly relaxed at the moment. Nothing short of a very short angry person could bug me at the moment (short people intimidate me), I am content and kind of formulating poem ideas in my head. I don’t feel like writing poetry, though, so instead I’m just lying here reading Cracked.com articles and watching the battery on my iPod slowly dwindle.
Well: Things are pretty great, at least on the emotional front. I have moved on from Wil and Lillian (though they are just sickeningly adorable together- it makes me have to restrain the urge to encase them both in a MONDO-HUG), which is quite a relief. I’m still on the fence w/ Taschen and Hove (probably will need new codenames soon, or I’m gonna stop writing about them), but that is unimportant because hey, I like being single. Well, until I go to a party or something and see everyone having fun and I enter an existential crisis and it all goes to hell in a handbasket.
I’m a party pooper!

Occasionally, though, I get these little flashes of perspective- “you are not really that bad off, you just have a limited pool” or (in my mother’s voice) “there’s no rush, it’ll only be better if you wait” and it kind of makes me feel a little better.
I’m coming off as needy, I know. But I know- I know I’ll find someone; there’s no rush. I’ll wait.

Title, btw, is from Of Montreal’s Gallery Piece, which is catchy and filthy and makes me dance.

Goodnight- hope your dreams are full of manatees frolicing peacefully.

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19 Jan

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looking up

14 Jan

Everything is just FINE

no, seriously. Today has been pretty awesome thus far, I am kind of looking forward to tomorrow. Art! Yearbook! More art!
And now that I suddenly have ideas, things are forty times easier.
I just taught my dad how to sync things to his new iPod! I feel accomplished. Have you ever felt accomplished? Don’t answer that, of course you have.

And the year rolls on.

I’ve been listening to a volatile combination of Vampire Weekend, White Denim, and Spoon, I am not too sure how long I will survive being bombarded by all this coarse joy before I explode into confetti.
Oh oh oh I did some midnight drabbles last night, let me show you them.
they are probably not very good as I was kind of awake while writing them, but we’ll see.
One day, maybe, the flashes behind my eyelids will cease, turning into a completely different person through music. You are my glorious one, you follow me and make me realize my flaws and changes and your delight of your delight together inside hearts from scratch homegrown.
You don’t understand your own mind, let alone others’ minds; together, away from home, life continues. Not your fault, not your reasons for love or lack thereof. I’d mind if you didn’t move how I’d thought, but I’ve king things are okay.
Your mind, though, is a strange ferocious animal, your breath unnatural. You always outthink when you ring your doorbell, together his love
I’ve never quite done this before, you know what I gtab light, not your terror or the glory on the way we work, the way neath the truth, attack the spaces in between morals and say it’s a service for your community, your love and mine may love the life surrounding. Gobhead. Take another drag on your cigar. It’ll kill you shouldn’t beast oh I cannot write tonight, I’m thinking too much.
Going to do some more tonight. Luckily for this one it was almost totally legible, besides some scribbles scrawled haphazardly along the bottom of a page and a crossed-out I.
I am occasionally frightened by the stuff I write: I ask myself how something like that, extolling love and beauty and all that shit, could possibly come out of this little head of mine.
For reference, it occasionally makes me break out in random dancing when I’m home alone or sequestered in my room. Sweet? Sweet.

I will write more tommorrow.

mind the curves

7 Jan

I’m alright.

Or at least I will be.

All of my friends are getting boyfriends; once again, I am the perpetual third wheel.
I don’t know why. I don’t understand. I don’t understand why there isn’t anyone out there who

(loves me)

There has to be, there has to be.
That’s my mantra.
There has to be someone who loves me.

chez youri

2 Jan

Achat & vente vinyls.
The above is from a shopping bag I got in France, appropriately from a used-record store. It was probably the coolest place I’ve ever bought music from. Basically, there was a giant (seemingly abandoned, as well) building with about forty little flea markety shops stuffed into it. This recod shop was on the second level, tucked away, and the only reason I found it was the jazz music (might have been Dizzy Gilespie; I can’t remember) spilling out gently from the doors. I remember the smell, too- musty, like cardboard left in water then dried slowly.

I want to go back. I want to go back.

our last summer as independents

17 Dec

Well, I got better. After a hour-long talk with Fauberge (and one thoroughly snotted sweater), I think I’m going to be okay. Time is the only thing left to do, and I will just have to wait till Tweed gets friendship concepts through his little head.
But since I don’t want to think about that right now, at the risk of starting to bawl again like a baby, I am listening to Skeletal Lamping turned up ridiculously loud. I am entertaining the thought of jumping up and having a little dance-fest, all by my lonesome.
Speaking of Skeletal Lamping, there is a fabulous webcomic on Smackjeeves based completely upon said album. It is a little unsafe for work (boobies) but very well drawn thus far. It’s gotten me all motivated to draw, so I might do a few little stick figure comics or something.
The webcomic is http://www.skeletallamping.smackjeeves.com
and you should consider reading it.

Gonna go draw, will post some drawings up here for evidence, if you need it.

ceasing to exist

8 Dec

it pays to have friends in the food service industry

Natalie Dee comics, yes.

UUGGH this week. This week needs to go and explode itself, Tarantino-style. I do not want to exist right now. I want to melt into a puddle of nonexistence and just…just explode.

and found Bortglomt looking back at me today; I think I never have felt quite as infatuated as I do with him. I…I kind of…I…never mind.

‘Bout all for today. Will write more tommorrow.

difficulty befriending puffins

8 Dec

well, currently sitting in the Pub, probably should be somewhere else but I am too apathetic to even give half of a shit. Instead, I will sit here, pipe Passion Pit loudly into my ear, and attempt to ignore Bortglomt over there who is doing…something.

I just ripped the Smiths’ The Queen Is Dead, and I finally realized: it’s VICAR in a Tutu, rather than “BABBLING in a Tutu”. This makes quite a bit of my life suddenly make sense. Also, bubbles.

The kid next to me, presumably a freshman, is writing something about magical metal detectors. That find jewels. He is also watching Stewie (from Family Guy) shove someone down the stairs multiple times. I see no humor in this. I see no awesome in wistfully watching Bortglomt from across the room. I see no awesome in listening to him babble about colleges.

I see no awesome in today, thus far.

And Jamesey just asked me about French homework, much to my chagrin- I kind of suck at helping people with homework, which is why I kind of went “eh imparfait and conditional” then slowly slinked away back to my chair. There is nothing to write about today. There is nothing to do today.

Today is just a big glomp of nothing.

(and I am still wistfully staring at Bortglomt from across the room. Damned beautiful people!)