I'm hanging out here on the swinging chair on my patio with Lily and Riley, the latter being the dog I'm dogsitting. I'm waiting for Jon and Sami so we can go see Twilight. I'm in the mood for some good teen trash, like Gossip Girl and Legally Blonde. As I rock back and forth I'm thinking of some witty catchphrases that would sell the movie in an instant. I don't know what the movie is about but I know that it includes love and vampires, and that's all I need.
I am having a very wonderful holiday doing absolutely nothing My computer has a virus because I have a nasty porn addiction Just kidding about the porn addiction. It's mild. I received: music, many scarves, socks and gossip girl. I have been working at a toy store since October and I'm starting to realize that shoppers have very peculiar habits. This is my first time in retail and I'm wondering if every shopper has a set of rules they are required to follow.
Of the ones I am learning about here are my absolute favorites: 1. when entering a store make sure you ignore the sales lady when she greets you. No eye contact! They are your slaves, don't condescend. 2. Let your child run free and ruin everything. Don't put anything back where you found it. In fact, shove the toys behind the shelves. That way no one can find it! 3. Shopping is a team effort. Every shopper needs help at the same time. Every shopper needs to pay at the same time and every shopper wants their purchase to be gift wrapped. This is especially necessary when there is only one employee in the store. 4. Does the sales lady not know what you're talking about? get angry. She's a moron for not knowing about that organic Swedish toy that will teach your child quantum physics. 5. Yell really loudly about how expensive the products are instead of taking the family to Walmart and shutting the fuck up 6. If she's wearing a blue apron and a name tag, ask her if she works at the store 7. If the store closes at 9, come in at 8:58 with your three kids.
Naw man, no more political correctness. Tom Robbins wrote it much better than I ever could. Anywho, hope the world is a bit nicer to at least a couple people today and tomorrow and for the rest of their lifetimes, etc.
I got my ears pierced which opens me up to a whole new realm of purchasing possibilities. It is just really difficult to remember that THERE ARE HOLES IN MY EARS which are raw and tender, like a young girls heart. Handle me with care.
Following up on my small woodland creatures post, tomorrow I go on epic adventure to Petsmart with ERINA to purchase two little "meece." They are her christmas present and she will give them the best life they ever could have. And as she's an ARTIST!, no doubt they will have plenty of artsy little toys all the other mice will be jealous of.
Maybe we will train Atticus Finch to ride on them, but more likely he will peep his appreciation from his lofty perch.
I got him a few months ago when I abruptly entered an I-LOVE-BIRDS phase. I still do, still can marvel at his tiny body, still think he's adorable, just not at seven in the morning when he wont shut his adorable little beak.
In the spirit of metaphor, I plan on setting him free* on the day of my graduation. I'm sure the original Atticus Finch would approve.
*I should also mention that Atticus is a wild bird my neighbor recently caught and gave to me as a present, so he's well equipped for hanging out in the wild again!
As I'm going off to college next fall, I need a mode of transportation. Instead of wasting god knows how much dough on a car that will be useless in the city, I've decided to invest in a spectacular bike. I have my eye on this baby.
Blogger probably made this image turn out huge because it couldn't contain its sweetness in any smaller size. Bonus points? It's collapsable at the touch of a button. Mallory says I will be beat up if I wheel this into campus but if I do get beat up it will probably be so the bully can steal my wheels.
Way to be a jerk. After cutting your fat bod in half, you still managed to swell up to the size of a running shoe. I was starving to death, asshole, a good hour past my dinnertime, and you still refused to flake when stuck with a fork. Yeah, alright, and then I find out YOUR KIND isn't supposed to flake when stuck with a fork, so I just overcooked you by a good 20 minutes. STFU, man. Tilapia all the way from now on. How do you like that, stupid?
Alright girls. I get it. I get that women are equal to men in most ways. In some ways superior, and in others inferior. That was established a good 20 years ago. Now this is going too far and we are headed in the opposite direction.
It seems to me that there seems to be a ridonkulous number of man bashings nowadays. Turn on the TV, or at least if you live in America. Check out almost every family show. Check out the commercials selling cleaning supplies. Check out those movies in which the mom leaves for a week, leaving the Dad in charge. In it, the Dad is the dumb, selfish ox who needs to be kept in line by his ever-present, always clear-thinking brilliant wife who just can't believe that she got stuck with such a lame moron that can't attempt anything delicate without breaking it. Oh, but with her never ending patience, she loves him anyways!
Cue extreme eyerolls from my direction.
Ever since the whole feminist movement began, it suddenly became cool to treat men as retarded fuck-ups who are just bringing us down. I've always had great relationships with guys and I'm realizing that this is so because I've treated them with respect. Yeah I've done my fair share of "Geez you're such a guy," but it's all in good fun and when it comes down to it I treat guys as friends, with the proper actions that go along with being friends.
I also realize that I'm only 17 years old and might not exactly know what I'm talking about, but hey, I'm trying.
Back from Texas. It was not as bad as I thought it would be, not filled with sunburnt overweight farmers in bad camouflage. I mean there were some, but they were very polite. I found out I have some pretty neat family there. Mallory and I aren't one of those "hey internet get to know my family, here's pictures of my grandma, check out this video of my cat meowing, today I went and picked up my kids from school, tomorrow I'll do the same, etc."
BUT TRY AND WRAP YOUR HEAD AROUND THIS.
The mom of the family that we stayed with is both my cousin and my aunt, because my mom's oldest sister is married to my dad's uncle. She's the daughter of this crazy union. Sounds pretty scandalous, but it's totally legit.
Anyways back to the daily grind. Slow-roasted for premium flavor.
Tomorrow morning I leave for Texas to check out a university that titles every e-mail and letter with an overly enthusiastic "Howdy!"
I'm flying there with my dear mum and I will be back Sunday night. I look forward to 70 degree weather and not very much else. Perhaps I will meet a cowboy. If so, I will take pictures. For his sake, I hope he's not a smoker...I'd be forced to show him a copy of my "Teen Statistic" poem.
Hopefully Mallory will remember to feed the beluga. HAH stole her joke way back when! I'm the worst.
This was written for my ex boyfriend who liked to smoke. I spent too much time on him at the expense of others. I don't really know how Mallory put up with me during THE LONGEST YEAR AND A HALF OF MY LIFE. My rather pathetic excuse is that he was my first boyfriend.
On the background of this poem I sketched a very large and very angry white skull on a black background. It was probably expressing my hidden secret desire for him to be abducted by pirates so I wouldn't have to deal with his whining any longer.
Enjoy the unnecessary commas, parenthesis, and words that I bolded to make an impact.
Today we made a movie and several other videos we made a song Danielle turned seventeen
It's about time she catch up with the rest of us. I will up the song and movie later but since I'm preoccupied right now with the gang I will rush the necessary birthday post. SO HAPPY BIRTHDAY DANIELLE LISBETH PELAEZ. I can't write anything sweet because you just insulted me but let's chill where the magic happens!
In my freshman year of high school, my language arts class had to create a poetry portfolio based of off William Blake's "Songs of Innocence and Experience." I remember penning these poems, anxiously waiting to receive praise for my creative genius that was hidden all along. I remember reading them over, all puffed up with pride over my poetic gems. I remember thinking, "Well if the whole international relations thing doesn't work out, at least I can be a poet and make millions because I am just that damn good."
I was suffering from Teen Angst, a common disorder that afflicts most teens and thankfully recedes after those teens learn to "suck it up and grow a pair." Some don't. Rereading these poems, I am a little bit proud of the extreme level of deception that I managed to plunge myself into concerning my creative genius. However I am a lot more ashamed of mis estrofas terribles. I fully recognize the x-treme bullshit that I poured my heart and soul into.
Here is one for your mocking pleasure.
This Could Be Heaven or This Could Be Hell (recently dedicated to well-dressed boy in mine and Mallory's gym class. Mallory and I's gym class? Mallory and mine's gym class? wtf)
Since Halloween is barely over, there are piles and piles of candy everywhere. I've been accustomed to pick up a piece, unwrap it, and pop it in my mouth whenever the urge strikes me because many people don't mind just giving their candy away. However, I'm forgetting that grocery stores don't really follow that train of thought.
S.H.I.T. #8: Unwrapping and eating candy while waiting in line at the grocery store.
I have a list in my head of all the people I really wish I were friends with in our school, so that when I passed them in the hallways I could wave and smile at them and they would respond in a like manner. Instead, I have to admire/desire from afar...
The list includes:
The cool Korean boy with the killer afro and style to match
The wild out of his mind loud white-haired Government teacher
The charming and attractive football player/genius hotshot
The small adorable skater kid who graduated last year (whenever I passed him in the hallway I had a frantic urge to gently place him in my pocket and keep him there, like a small pocket pet. Actually, I feel the same urge with subject #2.)
The list goes on and on. I do realize that this may give some the accidental impression that I am a creepasaurus rex. I simply write what we are all thinking, really. I mean, lay on the charm and wittiness, throw in a foreign accent and a small stature, and you will be my best friend. Or at least I will hope/pretend you will one day be.
While Mallory created the blog "Things my mother says," I felt that I simply had to find a way to get the things that Sadhana says out to the world. However, the creative juices that seem to course through Mallory's body were sucked dry by my laziness, so I'm just adding a "Sadhanasaurus Rex Says:" label for those wonderful things that fly out of her mouth. Don't you wish you had a Sadhana?
A recent phone conversation with my friend Sadhana:
S: I found the best secret for making scrambled eggs M: what S: add milk M: I could have told you that S: Am I the only one who doesn't know that?!? M: yes. Remember when you made me breakfast? S: No M: well you hard-core scrambled those eggs. I was eating a million tiny egg dots. I needed a spoon. S: Shut up! I made them into non choke-able pieces for you!!
It's nice to know that when I disappear for a while Danielle is still typing away with her anecdotes. It's like I'm on vacation and she's the friend I ask to feed the fish. Excuse me, I mean the BELUGA.
One of the reasons I've been AWOL is the SAT. The last time I took it, my brain had melted THE DAY BEFORE THE TEST and appeared to be dripping out of my nose and eyes. It's difficult to read passage one and give a fuck enough to compare it to passage two when you're suffering from the common cold. Weirdly enough I did fine. Just not fine enough.
Last night I decided to do some last minute studying (the test was this morning) because I'm so responsible. I had my brain food out on the table, number two pencil, graphing calculator and DANIELLE, JON, SAMI, and ANDREW sparring in the same exact room. I knew it was day before SAT day, but more importantly it was FRIDAY and if you think I'd spend it alone then you overestimate my study habits. I was the only one who had to take the test which is exactly why I invited them all over and spent the rest of the night wreaking havoc in my neighborhood.
I took the test this morning and I'm not worried at all. I'm the smartest person alive* and telling the world (aka whoever reads this) about how I prepared for the test is my way of telling College Board to suck it.
At the animal hospital, we sometimes have to keep pets for a couple of days to a couple of weeks for surgery, observation, etc. Oftentimes, IF THEIR OWNERS LOVE THEM, they visit them in the hospital, spending sometimes hours cooing into their oftentimes mangled ears. It's sweet, and sad, and sometimes funny, like the stuffy woman last week who came in complaining that we were serving tap-water to Precious, and not only tap water, but ROOM temperature tap-water, because at home her Precious only got Perrier Ice Water, and that's why Precious had Internal Bleeding, and she pronounced each word like they were all capitalized.
Today was lovely, though. Most owners visit for about 10-15 minutes, often more. Not today! Coco is an adorable squish-faced pug (as opposed to the smooth-faced?), very old, and very fat who was staying at the hospital for about a week for a toe problem. Today I was told that her owner wanted to visit Coco, and I brought her out and saw the darlingest happiest wrinkliest oldest chinese man. He stooped down to look at Coco in her bulging eyes and said, "Hello, Coco!" very politely with hardly suppressed joy. He then straightened up, smiled at the dog, said, "Good-bye Coco!" and tottered out the door. That's it. I was left there completely nonplussed, but it made me happy. Hope Coco is happy too.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY MALLORY who has ditched this blog in favor of things my mother says (I swear).
My mom got her a killer nerf gun and I gave her a dancing robot wind-up toy and a fearsome t-rex wind-up and SLAMWICH. If she has any sense she will take a video of the wind-ups and provide the internet with endless fascination.
There has been this awful bug that has been going around our school and Mallory, David, and Sadhana have all gotten it. It seems that my body has been unconsciously preparing itself an awesome defense by giving me intense cravings for soup these past couple of days. Alas, my immune system ultimately failed me and I woke up with the sniffles this morning. So much for the soup.
Anyways, on Friday with Mallory, David, and Sadhana out of commission, I spent the evening with our good friend Jon.
Jon and my brother had a Nerf gun fight. The testosterone in that room was palpable. Then we solved a jigsaw puzzle. It looked like this:
It's a satellite image of...Sweden, I think? I love the Swedes. Then we ate tortillas and watched What Happens In Vegas. Afterward we decided to be good patriotic Americans and watch the presidential debates. However, our boredom soon got the better of us and we switched over to America's Funniest Videos.
Hey, we're being good Americans! America needs humor in these dark times!
On my mountain climbing trip, I had to eat some things that just frankly shouldn't be eaten, because SCIENTIFICALLY they were required to keep my poor beaten body going.
One day for lunch all I had to eat was a huge stick of pepperoni, a hunk of American cheese, and some stale crackers, and you had to eat every bit of it or you would simply not wake up in the morning. I'm used to creating elaborate lunches for myself, so this wasn't going to work out well. For instance, today I made linguini with fresh tomatoes and basil from my garden, fresh mozzarella, shrimp, extra-virgin olive oil (not the slutty kind) and Parmesan cheese.
One snack, however, was absolutely delicious and nutritious, and it wasn't just because I had woken up at 6 AM and plowed through snow and rock for a good five hours. They were called Beyond Bars, and I just made a batch last night. They're surprisingly easy to make, and they got me down a whole mountain, so here's the recipe for the culinary-inclined:
*3/4 c. peanut butter
*1/2 c. brown sugar
*1/2 c. white sugar
*1/2 c. oil or shortening
*1/4 c. milk
*1/2 t. salt
*1/2 t. soda
*1 1/2 c. white flour
*1 1/2 c. oats
[at this point you can add whatever you want. The recipe calls for 1/2 c. shelled sunflower seeds, 3/4 c. raisins, and 3/4 c. chocolate chips. I leave out the raisins because they repulse me a little bit. Combine all the rest of the ingredients at the end.]
Spread 1-1.5" think in a greased pan, and cook at 275 f. for 35-40 minutes. Makes 9 bars. Now go climb a mountain. You can do it.
SO I still want to have Kevin Barnes' babies, although unfortunately (for me) he already has one cute-as-a-button daughter. Kevin Barnes is the frontman of one of my all-time favorite bands, Of Montreal. They just released this song for Nick Jr., I think. In any case, it's a free song to anyone who needs reminding to brush their pearly whites. It's catchy and adorable.
Today Mallory, my mother, and I drove to the Princeton Battlefield with our pups to let them run free free free. Peter is in the hormonal teenager stage and all he really wants is some ass. And to be loved. He's not that smart but he's deadly cute. DEADLY.
(I know that this photo is not that cute but do not blame the photographer; that dog would not stay still for a moment. That leaf really needed a severe telling off anyways.)
Lily is in her spayed pissed-off feminist stage who secretly wants some ass. I mean look at this:
She is the one doing the chasing here! So we coulda used a blanket, but the grass was ok and the sun was nice and it wasn't too hot. I used to go to the Battlefield all the time when I was a wee tot, so it was nice to be back. Check out Mallory posing:
Afterwards we went to Pizza Star and got some cannoli's and pizza. It was nice.
I can't believe Mallory nor I have ever mentioned this!
Well, when I got my Mac, I found out it came with a nifty little widget: GARAGEBAND! You can basically create TastyCake for your ears with this. One day we were messing around with it, and POODLEJAMZ was born. This was way back in I don't know last June? We made one song, Alvaroodle Pelaezz (available for free download if you click the link, hah I'm shamelessly selling myself, although technically its not selling!), for our album "Car Commercials," made plans for the heaps of money we would get, and promptly forgot about it.
That's cool, though; I still play it sometimes and we can impress the hell out of people if we don't mention the fact that we didn't ACTUALLY play the instruments in this song, we just ARRANGED them so they sounded like the second coming of the lord. In the middle of the school week. I'm proper proud of it though, even if it was a one-shot thing. At least I know I can fall back on something in college if my thousands of dollars are wasted learning!
Today the Martha Stuart in me busted out and held me pinned to the ground until I created this. It's a cheesy, simple, and cheap project I had always thought beneath me for those exact reasons. But there was no denying my "womanly intuition," as Mallory and I lovingly dub it, and I held M. Stewarts beastly, unbeatably CRAFTY hand and charged forward...
Everything went wrong; the glass gems weren't large enough, the glass gems weren't transparent enough, the scissors went missing, the magnets were non-existent (read: I had to fork over 2 bucks to get more), the glue gun was out of glue and leaked, the magnets that I bought were too weak, and my fingers burned.
End result? A measly, translucent glass gem with a part of a map messily glued to the back, barely strong enough to keep itself up on the fridge, not to mention keeping a piece of paper up there. I could see the M. Stewart beast rolling its eyes and retreating in disgust. I suppose I'll photograph it sometime and post it up here, not much out of pride but as a warning to myself. The craft itself was childishly simple, but it chastised me and brought me off my high horse a little. Just a nudge.
is not very pleasant to look at. We are driving down to Florida, the opposite direction from all those cars driving NORTH, away from the full-of-rage Hurricane Fay. It's funny; every time we pass a television we see those familiar angry white swirls of terror, and I swear I can almost hear a voice mutter darkly and excitedly, "Just give me the chance and I will cook your liver and feed your heart to my cat." That is Hurricane Fay personified: a formidable, hard woman, a flying-apart-at-the-seams woman, the kind that will go out of their way to whack you off the sidewalk with her clanking floral-print bag of cat food. Only this time I'm not being knocked over by a bag of clanking cat food; it's a 75 MPH MURDEROUS WIND OF DESTRUCTION.
"Listen, I don't care what you say about my race creed or religion, Fatty, but don't tell me I'm not sensitive to beauty. That's my Achilles' heel, and don't you forget it. To me, everything is beautiful. Show me a pink sunset and I'm limp, by God. Anything. 'Peter Pan.' Even before the curtain goes up at 'Peter Pan' I'm a goddam puddle of tears"
While Danielle is in D.C. debating politics with young leaders, I have replaced her with a new companion: This is Peter. He will pee all over you. Affectionately.
Yesterday we walked around the Institute for Super Hard Core Geniuses. Although I love Princeton, I've always been an Institute girl. The campus is tucked away and much more private. I used to play there when I was younger and I forgot how lovely the place is.
In case you don't know the Institute is where Albert Einstein hung around and did his work until he died. So I like to pretend that his ghost is roaming around somewhere. If your imagination fails you, I have visuals: The Rhombus! A door knob? what time is it, Mr Fox? Library! The wall leaks
I've returned! Seattle was wonderful, with wonderful people and wonderful clean streets and wonderful coffeeshops and wonderful flowers. We got there quite late, woke up at a decent hour, and walked across the street to have breakfast at Janine's sisters house. This is Janine in her finest: She is a good friend of mine, a tough, kind, creative woman with an unbeatable style. She and her adventurous husband Mark, along with their baby daughter Adeline, were in charge of us hooligans as we swam through Seattle, exploring Pike's Market, eating marvelous chicken teriyaki, going to a mediocre concert, and generally being tourists. The next day we woke up early to get our hiking boots that were individually approximatly half my weight and packed all of our stuff up. It looked like this: We drove to the Canadian Border (hi, Canada!), where they let us pass without delay, and took a ferry to Vancouver, I think. The views were "boatiful," as Mallory so cleverly coined them. We got to this place in the middle of nowhere called Egmont, stayed the night camped out on the dock where there was bioluminescence in the lake, which basically meant that anything that moved in the matter was surrounded for an instant by PIXIE DUST. Screw science, pixie dust is the only explanation for it.
Next day we took a Water Taxi to Malibu, the base camp. The staff POURED, literally POURED out of the woods to the dock to cheer for us as we approached. They were all super friendly and cheerful, and I would be perfectly happy marrying almost any one of them (of the men, anyways). We made our way to the bungalow, had an emotional campfire (the tears flowed freely), and passed out. Here is a view from the bungalow: NEXT day, we got our 40-50 pound hiking gear (read: a large pile of BRICKS), hopped on a little boat, and boated to Mt. Jay Jay. By the first day I was keeling over, surrendering myself completely to the mountain, even weeping a little tiny bit. In my head I apologized numerous times to various parts of my body, my hips, knees, back, feet, and soul. It was a hard day, but it went all UPHILL (haha!) from there! We belayed down a cliff side, and it was wild (THAT'S REALLY ME!): Our guides were fantastic. They were Sheehan, Collin, and Alissa, and I wish they all lived down the street so I could have them over for dinner every day. Sheehan was the ideal representation of the kind of person I wanted to be (but in a masculine form), Collin was a bearded cheeleader that kept my plodding feet going, and Alissa was a strong, shy sweetheart. (Sheehan with his daughter and Mark with his daughter Adeline in the first photo, and Collin and Alissa in the second) I think I may be a little in love with Sheehan, but I think it's more a love for the idea of him. He gave me hope, I guess, for my own future. It sounds a bit silly, and I guess it's risky to put on the interwebs, but I trust that no harm will come of it. Although didn't I just say that Sheehan was the representation of the type of person I would like to be? Does that make me a narcisist? I guess I'll find out later...
Anyways. I ate food I had sworn to myself would never touch my lips, and sometimes it was good, and other times not so much. All our meals and soup and hot chocolate were served in a charming vessel called a two-cup, which is a little cup thing that has a spoon attached to it by a string. The morning we got back we had BACON. Real BACON. BACON cooked on a REAL STOVE. It took all I had in me to not moan aloud. BAAAACON.
This trip was hard, the hardest thing I had ever done in my entire life, and that is no exaggeration. But I survived, with two rather impressive bruises and a face full of inset bites, but a better person. I hope. I'm happy to be home, but I miss the mountains and the people that I met very much. (I'm the one on the far left in the blue blue blue)
Before yesterday, there were 4 childhood traumas I had managed to avoid:
1. broken bones As a child I had a number of irrational fears so I stayed inside with my dolls and pillow forts.
2. chicken pox Yes, I know the danger of getting the pox later on in life...I will get the shot someday
3. stranger danger Who needs the candy in that man's car when I have some in my pocket?
4. bee stings don't mess
WELL... yesterday at work I was walking across the park when a little bugger stung me on the foot. I couldn't help but think, "so this is what it feels like..." (Since I'm sure most of you know the feeling I won't describe the pain but It was exactly the way I imagined it would be.) Luckily I work at a day camp and I had the necessary tools to deal with my injury. And since I didn't cry my mommy gave me some icecream and took me to watch WallE! :)
S.H.I.T. #7: assuming that people can hear what I type and what is so vividly imprinted on my mind. I suppose I must spin off of Mallory's idea and catch her on video. Then, the YAWN will be revealed...
PS-I'm off to travel the world again, this time to Seattle for a few days, and then I take a boat to British Colombia to climb up and down a mountain and not shower for a week. Simultaneously!
SO what I'm about to reveal is actually a huge deal. Danielle and I have been friends since we hit puberty and we share just about everything. It's no secret that we've got some loose screws, but I've always gotten a kick out of being really goddamn sneaky about my ridiculousness. Luckily, my homemade cool has been keeping me from becoming a pariah ever since grade school.
One of the perks of being my best friend is seeing THE FACE. Whenever we are both in a social setting, sitting around with the boys, talking it up with the family I bust out THE FACE quick as lightning. This causes Danielle to burst into laughter and everyone else to think WTF.
Since Danielle is out of the state, and it's raining outside and I'm just BORED I decided to spill the sacred look out into the web. Publicizing this antic will reveal: 1. if my friends will still accept me 2. if this is the only glue bonding me and Danielle 3. if anyone actually gives a damn 4. just how stupid we are
Fortunately for you, I'm willing to take those risks. So here it goes:
I'm sure this has happened to a majority of you folks out there: Dropping your cellphone in the toilet. I was at my aunt's house yesterday and we were all sharing our personal mishaps until my sister interrupted.
Elaine: Hey I've never dropped anything in the toilet
Elaine: Yeah I swear I've never dropped anything
Mom:Seriously Elaine? Think about it. You never dropped ANYTHING in the toilet.
It took me about a minute to realize my own mother, the woman who frowns upon us watching reality T.V. because it's trash, was making a POOP joke.
I never saw the movie (Yes, yes i now it's supposed to be awesome) but i just finished the book and it was super tasty.
I'm not going to talk much about a book that came out a while ago so I'll just share my favorite part:
I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, "Why?" Why did I cause so much pain? Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love? I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong. We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. And God says, "No, that's not right." Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.
Really, if there is this tiny little cat turd on the floor, and you're about to step on it, and I scream "BEWARE, POO!" but it ends up sounding like "ehhhh, ehh!," are you really going to blame me when you step on it?
I'm watching the ending credits to National Treasure! I didn't see the movie but the credits seem nice.
Anyways Danielle and I took SAT II today. And then we bought crazy amounts of clothes. You know, to help deal with the stress of our impending future. Well something happened at the mall (that should not have happened for an entire week!) that I will not discuss. The point is: being a girl is not fun. Sure we wear dresses and look really pretty and produce babies but that's about all we've got going for us. So later when we went to her house to go swimming her dog (that bitch) pulled the string from my bikini top...let's just say I ran pretty quickly into the house and hopefully nobody saw my __PUPPIES**__ (readers: enter your own creative noun! Whoever's I like better I'll use...pretty interactive huh? contest over).
**yes i chose Danielle's word. Why? because I'm biased. Get over it.
Today I was playing Jenga with my little brother, and he asked me if I could play some music. I cast my eyes over my meager collection of CDs and asked him what he wanted to hear. He asked for me to play the song that went like "all i wanna do is BANG BANG BANG and ka-ching take your monAY."
WHAT? MIA? gosh!
overhearing him mumble "NORTH AMERICANS ah yahhhhh, ah hah ah, north americans" while building a Lego star wars model. (LCD soundsystem)
constantly asking me to play that "shake your coconuts" song. (junior senior)
bopping his head to the beat and shouting "I'VE GOT A HUNGERRRRR, THAT'S TWISTING MY STOMACH INTO KNOTS, THAT MY TONGUE HAS TIED OFF dah duh duh dah dah."
and asking his new friend Brian if he likes David Bowie, 'cuz there was this song that went like CH-CH-CH-CHANGES and it was really cool OH and another that went like major tom to ground control, does he like that song? and his friend brian is all "hannah montana is pretty."
and you know what my brother says? "HANNAH MONTANA IS WEIRD."
yo man, 8 years old, and this kid is the coolest kid on the block. young skywalker, i've taught you well.
I couldn't find it in my colors but you can find it here. Pretty cool huh?
Anyways today was the day of the AP play so I did nothing but hang out until it was my time to shine (I was an American soldier). I learned two things that I hope will come in handy someday. 1) It is difficult to entertain unruly teenagers 2) It is easy to entertain nerdy teachers
This post was pointless, I just wanted to show off my belt.
I should have stayed in studying. But hey, I don't need to go to college...
Friday: I watched SEX AND THE CITY. You should have seen the flocks of middle aged women! Since Danielle and I are too young for R-rated movies (especially one's with sex in the title!) we snuck in with a group of 40 year old suburban housewives. They were fabulous and I'm not just saying that.
I could make up excuses for seeing the movie but I'm not gonna lie*. I was entertained and that's what matters.
Saturday: Elaine came home for her birthday with some art school friends. She dyed her hair blue. HOW ORIGINAL. Art students never go through wacky experiments, riiiiight? I look forward to some piercings, tats and who knows, maybe she'll bring home a girlfriend. Just to try.
anecdote: While at the supermarket it started pouring rain. I mean huge balloon sized drops! People were hesitant to head to their cars and so they waited patiently for it to calm down. Since I like to pretend that I'm brave I convinced my mother to run for it. And we did. And while crossing the street my flip-flop fell off. And while running back to get it, my other flip-flop fell off. "GODDAMMIT!" I yelled. The folks who waited laughed at me and I went wee wee wee all the way to the car...
Anyways it was also Princeton's graduation day so there were MAD alumni and live music in town. I went to Danielle's house to watch the fireworks from her front lawn and then we built a fort (inspiration) with David. I wished desperately to return to my childhood. Specifically age 8.
Sunday: Our friend Lalli had a surprise birthday party. I arrived late and thus missed out on the ambushing. It was cute. We napped in the grass; we ate ice cream cake; we went home with goody bags. Maybe my desire to be 8 again is coming true...
*Danielle, you can do the honors of discussing the ridiculousness of this expression.
Now my family is still over for Elaine's birth celebration so I have to entertain them. But Holy Hell my weekends have been surprisingly eventful I barely have time to absorb anything.
Did you know that a stomach can twist upon itself, cutting off the esophagus and requiring immediate emergency surgery in order to stay alive?
I sure didn't, and when I learned that it was the large members of Canis Familiares (aka Muffin and Fluffy) that really had to fear this terrifying predicament, and not you, Homo Sapiens, I was slightly mollified, but not by much. It turns out that mans best friend is in greatest danger from this when they are taken out to exercise right after eating.
Point of this: DON'T EXERCISE. IT KILLS. GO HUG YOUR PUP. NOW.
I hope my sister doesn't read this blog. Yesterday I took the dinky into town to buy her a birthday present. She is turning 20 so I wanted her to have incredibly useless items crowding her new house. Art students need all the crap they can get! ^this is a pencil sharpener robot! It's also a wind up toy and I'm sure it will help clean up her bedroom if asked nicely. ^this fork extends up to 2 feet long! I know she's short on cash so now she can just eat other people's food. It's SO long, I couldn't find a proper angle to photograph it!
Enough about her. This is what I bought myself:
^It's a sturdy, bright orange, incredibly simple, gridded notebook. I like that it's practical, just like my brain! ^This book is really great. Some cats went around with a suggestion box in NYC and people went nuts with creativity. Check out the link for more info. Here are my favorites: Yes, those are my stupid little fingers. *I'm keeping my posts light-hearted so not to frighten away any new readers that venture this way. If you like when I'm bitter, I'll have to write more are night.