Cypress is making up her mind.

I am finally getting my hair cut. It's painfully boring. It's like an exact cross between these images. It's not as dark or straight as the second one, but it's not as light, curly, or as choppy as the first one.

http://media.photobucket.com/image/wavy%20brown%20hair/droundy/trachtenber97141.jpg

http://www.haironthebrain.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/11/hzuzgnc4igowyic28ihel3jao1_500.jpg

Kind of got an image of what my hair is like?

What should I do with it? Comment/vote please.

texting, part 2

I've been waiting for him to text me back. I've whined at my phone, played with the charger cover, and tossed it away when I got pissed at it.

Just now, it vibrated. I dove out of my chair, tripped on my rug, got my foot stuck in my bag, and accidentally pulled part of my bed spread off the bed- all in a mad dash for my phone that sat dead center on my bed.

I excitedly opened it up...

only to find an automated message I set up to remind me to take my drugs.

Disappointment.

butterfly

i look up and see wings beating against the window. it was then i realized that a god who can turn a caterpillar into a butterfly can surely make something new of me...Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̄

texting

today, i texted the guy i like because he said he was bored and posted his number on facebook. he texted back. we had a conversation, and when it was reaching a lull, he pushed it on.

he's jewish, but he wished me a merry christmas.

this is going to be the best christmas ever.

also, there is no way that i am ever getting to sleep tonight. i'm way too excited.

i mean, i took a leap of faith, risked making a fool out of myself, and drooled by the phone, worrying that he hated me so much he wouldn't text back.

but he did, and this is a huge boost to my self confidence.

score one for cypress.

.....

merry christmas, everyone, or whatever you celebrate.

Christmas

This is Christmas, created to compete with the Pagan holidays and to ultimately become vastly commercialized. This is Christmas, where we all lose sight of its true meaning.

Jesus, I know this is not your true birthday. I know that I sometimes lose sight of the true meaning of Christmas. Has this become a holiday of lies? Of superficial happiness? Of buying gifts and presents? It's like we have forgotten the real meaning, whose birthday we're supposed to be celebrating.

I have not been a very good Christian, and there are days that I haven't even been a good person. But I ask that you forgive me, in the spirit of Christmas. Am I even a Christian? I think maybe so. But in light of the celebration of your birth, I beg forgiveness. It's not your real birthday, but this is when we celebrate it. I understand this, and I vow to become a better Christian, a better person as a whole.

I've been wandering for far too long, and I think it's time I settled down in the place I truly belong, which I know that one day I will find.

Owl City – The Christmas Song

It’s Christmas and we walk alone
Two strangers with no one to miss us
On our own
Out in the cold

Trudging onward
Braving a harsh winter storm
You and I met passing by
And now our spirits feel warm

I don’t have anyone at home to talk to
And you don’t have anything to do
So I’ll spend my Christmas with you
I’ll spend my Christmas with you

It’s Christmas and we are in love
With the way that the soft snowflakes kiss us
From far above
The blustery breeze

Trudging onward
Braving a harsh winter storm
You and I met passing by
And now our spirits feel warm

I believe that Jesus is truly the only way
I celebrate Christmas because it’s his birthday

I don’t have anyone at home to talk to
And you don’t have anything to do
So I’ll spend my Christmas with you
I’ll spend my Christmas with you
I’ll spend my Christmas with you
I’ll spend my Christmas with you

Hi bye

I have a ridiculous amount of homework to do. I should post all the artful (not) things I've been thinking and writing lately but i shouldn't even be on here right now because I just have that much to do.

just posting to let you all know i haven't died. bye.

Hm.

Today I saw my neighbor going jogging; I passed him when I was driving at about where the pond to where my Narnia used to be is, before they cut down all the trees back there. I got upstairs and put my dress in my closet (we’d come back from the tailor’s after deciding it didn’t need tailoring after all), then went to my window because I wanted for some strange reason to watch him come back up. As I got to the window, I saw that he was jogging up his driveway. He jogged to the sidewalk, walked to the front door, and stopped and leaned on the railing and panted for a moment, then went inside.

I don’t know why, but I thought that was kind of interesting to watch. Like I was a part of his life for a moment. We’re neighbors, the very same age, and our lives cross in so many ways, yet we’re still almost like strangers.

À la claire fontaine

À la claire fontaine,
M'en allant promener
J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle
Que je m'y suis baigné

At the clear fountain,
While I was strolling by,
I found the water so nice
That I went in to bathe.

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai

So long I've been loving you,
I will never forget you.

Sous les feuilles d'un chêne,
Je me suis fait sécher
Sur la plus haute branche,
Un rossignol chantait

Under an oak tree,
I dried myself.
On the highest branch,
A nightingale was singing.

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai

So long I've been loving you,
I will never forget you.

Chante rossignol, chante,
Toi qui as le cœur gai
Tu as le cœur à rire,
Moi je l'ai à pleurer

Sing, nightingale, sing,
Your heart is so happy.
Your heart feels like laughing,
Mine feels like weeping.

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai

So long I've been loving you,
I will never forget you.

J'ai perdu mon amie,
Sans l'avoir mérité
Pour un bouquet de roses,
Que je lui refusai

I lost my beloved,
Without deserving it,
For a bunch of roses,
That I denied her.

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai

So long I've been loving you,
I will never forget you.

Je voudrais que la rose,
Fût encore au rosier
Et que ma douce amie
Fût encore à m'aimer

I wanted the rose
To be still on the bush,
And my sweet beloved
To be still loving me.

Il y a longtemps que je t'aime
Jamais je ne t'oublierai

So long I've been loving you,
I will never forget you.

A French song poorly translated by my friend and me, with help from our French teacher and of course, the internet.

Feeling small again

I feel small in this huge world.

I feel insignificant.

I feel a little bit helpless and hopeless.

This is not a new feeling,

And I'm still just going to pretend it's not there.

Change

I'm on Google Earth, looking at my town 16 years previously...

I’d like to take a quick moment to write about how things change... Particularly my town. It’s evolved so much in the past 7 years. Where there once was a strawberry field, there now stands a neighborhood of townhouses. Where once there was an old gas station and mini mart, there is a shopping center. Where horses once grazed on rolling hills, there is now a pharmacy and flattened mounds of dirt, about to become an old age home.

Where there now is a house that dates from the civil war, there will be a hotel. Where there is now a cemetery and an old tree, there will be a parking lot. What was once a forest is now a strip mall. What were once tobacco fields are now offices. What were ponds once have become department stores. What were once dirt roads are now interstates. Where there was once an orchard there are now apartments.

Stars once twinkled in the skies, and now they suffocate in the orange flood of streetlights that settles above my town like a haze. Beavers once built their dams over the streams, but the town has destroyed them and the beavers are long gone. Once there were wild animals here, but now all that’s left of them is on the side of the highway.. Where there once was silence, there now the perpetual mutter of the life of a city...

In 1993, my town was a small, quiet village of farms and forests that has been shattered by development.

Google Earth is so interesting.

Happy Thanksgiving....

Well, yeah. This is the first one I can remember not eating turkey, so this should be interesting... Anyway, enjoy yours.

I think my dad may have already started cooking.

Other than this, I have nothing interesting to say.

Owl City

As you may know, I am obsessed with Owl City. At first I was kind of mad at the fact that Adam Young and his fabulous music became mainstream because I just find that kind of annoying, looking like I'm following a trend and whatever just because it's mainstream. I know, it's stuck up of me. But you must know how awesome this band is. Not just some random girly-techno band.

And, as some more internet advertising on this blog by moi, I joined their little street team too. I'm inspired to go write Owl City graffiti all over the tunnel by my house. Here's the link. http://owlcity.fancorps.com It's called Hoot Owls! Go join it. Much fun, much Adam Young, and much coolness.

"say hello to forever"

It's been a very suicide filled week. In honor of the two people who died, I'll dedicate such a beautiful post to them. ;) Because my writing is so beautiful. But on with it...

First there was a guy at my school, he hanged himself on Monday. It's awful. The senior rock has been painted in his memory, and people have put messages in sharpie all over it. I would post a picture, but it's so crappy it looks like a great big blob in the middle of a bunch of slightly painted mulch. Everything's painted around the rock. The trash bins, the picnic tables, even some of the trees are painted. It's all still there, and no one's painted over it yet. Someone might for the soccer game tonight, but I think that while we should move on, we should leave it as a reminder, a monument. However, something a bunch of seniors are legally allowed to vandalise will not stay the same colors for long.

The other person I can think of is the South Korean model, Daul Kim. Found dead on Thursday by her boyfriend in Paris. Her last blog post- November 18- was titled "say hello to forever." Awwww.

That's just what everyone wrote on the rock for the guy at my school... silly things like, "man I've known you forever" and bringing up old jokes. Some people wrote heartfelt things about how much they would miss him. There were other things like "forever young" and "gangstaz die young," doodles, hearts, peace signs, and some people just wrote RIP. Seems kind of sad but at the same time it's kind of cool to see all his friends haven't forgotten him.

Rest in peace.

i am an average girl: a poem of confessions and sad truths

Here's a little bit of a poem I've written. It's not really a poem. I call them zings- short for musings, but I think of the band whenever "muse" comes up. Besides, it's not good enough to be called a poem.


i am an average girl.
i have brown hair and brown eyes.
i like a boy. about half of them i know, in fact.
i wish i was prettier.
i wish i was skinner.
i wish my hair would behave.
i don’t get a’s in math.
i still sleep with my stuffed animals and my blankets when i’m sad or scared.

i am an average girl.
i really am a conformist, secretly of course.
i have trouble focusing in class sometimes.
i go out of my way to step on crunchy leaves.
i love random acts of kindness.
i love getting emails and texts and letters and phone calls.

i am an average girl.
i would buy the world if i had the money.
i actually don’t have that much, sadly.
i adore fashion.
i love art.
i spill things on myself, a lot.
i want to try out for winter drum line, but i’m secretly afraid i won’t make it.
i’m not actually a real percussionist, that’s why.
i really play the oboe.
i just play vibes in marching band.
i feel a bit like an intruder sometimes.
i am afraid of saying the wrong things.
i am afraid of hurting someone’s feelings.
i love music.
i believe in magic.
i believe i can save the planet.

i am an average girl.
i secretly find politics fascinating.
i get pissed off when people ignore me on purpose.
i painted my nails today.
i took them off because they looked ugly.
i haven’t repainted them yet.
i would eat nothing but junk food if it didn’t make me fat.
i take it back, i would eat probably a lot of healthy stuff too.
i’m not lying. really, i promise.
i’m not being sarcastic either. for real this time.

i am an average girl.
i am a proud vegetarian.
i don’t eat beef, ham, turkey, chicken, pork, fish, any of that ewie.
i still do eat eggs and dairy though. i’m sorry, chickies and moo-moos.
i just love cheese too much to be full-tilt vegan.
i could probably give up the eggs, though.
i love my family most of the time.
i sometimes sleep so late i miss the bus.
i just typed buns instead of bus.
i have a favorite cereal; it is lucky charms.
i like string cheese, too.
i know lucky charms have gelatin, but i just love them too much to not eat them ever again.

i am an average girl.
i know just about every line of monty python and the holy grail.
i wear jeans almost every day.
i think most of my wardrobe is black, blue, purple, and white or grey.
i hate hairdryers.
i have to wash my hair every day or it gets stringy.
i’m always practically begging for approval.
i’m not sure, but i’d probably change myself just to get it.
i find this sad, because i give off the vibes of being against it.
i am, right?
i cry a lot, but i never let anyone see.
i think it’s just embarrassing.

i am an average girl.
i’m actually more comfortable talking to people through email than anything else.
i secretly wish i had a facebook.
i don’t have one because i’m telling everyone i’d rather be a rebel.
i’m actually afraid to get a facebook for fear of having like two friends.
i think that would be an ego basher.
i think not talking in car rides is awkward, and will say anything just to break the silence.
i usually end up sounding really dumb, and regret it.
i honestly don’t find it ironic or funny that this happens frequently.
i have a piano next to my computer.
i don’t actually own an ipod.
i have a tape player instead.
i am so hardcore. not.

i am an average girl.
i know i’m supposed to be there for my best friends.
i am. always.
i’m always there to listen to them. but...
i really sometimes feel like telling them to just grow up though.
i kind of want to tell them that their problems really aren’t that bad.
i mean, you won’t remember what he said in a week.
i would actually be extremely jealous if i had a million people following me around constantly.
i know they piss you off, but still.
i don’t think your crush actually cares that you did that.
i think this may hurt your feelings, but he probably didn’t even see.
i suggest a bubble bath and then a dose of reality.
i always told you that zits happen. (get it? ha, not funny i guess.)
i want to tell you that you’re lucky to actually have a boyfriend, no matter where or who he is.
i don’t want to be mean though.
i don’t actually say any of this, as you may have guessed.
i still love them anyways.

i am an average girl.
i do not have cable television.
i probably have no plans this weekend.
i actually look pretty good on paper.
i’m a girl scout, barf barf.
i actually do not want to sell you some girl scout cookies.
i would prefer that you do not ask.
i love to read.
i’m afraid of my pet fish, poseidon, dying.
i think i’ll cry when he does.

i am an average girl.
i don’t think i should be capitalized.
i’m just not important enough.
i feel sort of insignificant and a little bit lost.
i may be having a mid-life crisis as a teenager.
i want to travel the planet.
i think i might like living in seattle, since i won’t mind the rain.
i got the idea from hello seattle by owl city.
i know how lame that is, but i love the idea.
i feel like adam young himself would be serenading me if i lived there.
i think adam young is a genius poet in the form of an insomniac musician.
i also think eminem is a genius poet in the form of a drugged up rapper, just so you know.

That's all I'll share with you, but you may now know me better than some of my own friends do.

okay, so maybe mankind isn't all that bad.

Normally I like to bitch about how selfish we are and how much we suck, but this time I'm going to praise us.

It has been my dream for maybe two years to stay in the Burj Al Arab. That is the most beautiful hotel in the world. When I saw it on the cover of Owl City I knew I'd love the album instantly, haha. But... let me post a few pictures of some beautiful buildings that actually kind of make me almost maybe love construction for almost a few moments.

Okay, the story behind this. Look. Like, wow. This is the poster story for a loving husband- the Taj Mahal in Agra was built by Emperor Shah Jahan as a memorial for his second wife, Mumtaz Maha, who died giving birth to their fourteenth child in 1631. It's a tomb, basically. The prettiest freaking tomb in the world. As said by the same site the picture is from, it's an extravagant, white-marble monument to love, which may explain all the young, starry-eyed couples wandering around it. Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore describes it as "a tear drop on the face of eternity." So pretty.

This is the Potala palace in Tibet. It's 13 stories high, contains thousands of rooms, and styled like a traditional Buddhist temple. It's "perched above the city of Lhasa" and once served as the seat of the government of Tibet and the winter home of the Dalai Lama. More than 7,000 workers were said to have been involved in its construction during the 7th century AD.

Now, the Imam Khomeini Mosque in Isfahan, Iran, is something gorgeous. My father would kill me if I told him this, but I think Arabic architecture is sooo beautiful. (I just realized I have no idea how to spell architecture, but I think I spelled it right.) Anyway, the decoration is crazy. It is so beautiful. It's a stunning 17th-century mosque, with its tiles seeming to change colour depending on the light conditions. It's also on the back of Iran's 20,000 rials banknote. way cool. It's also positioned just so it faces Mecca.

ZOmG more mosques. This is the Hagia Sophia, which started out as a church, then went to a mosque, but has been a museum since 1935. So take that, warring Christians and Muslims. Reigning from Istanbul, Turkey, it was built in only 5 years, in the 6th century CE. So, so, so pretty.

This is the Millennium Dome, in London, I think. It's actually not on the list of pretty stuff, it's one of those things that was built to be pretty or cool but I think it actually looks a bit more like a demented sea slug. Cool colors, though, haha. Just thought I'd show you. Still, though it isn't beautiful in an obvious sense, the structure is really what makes it a very interesting contemporary building.

http://www.zoopy.com/data/media/15464/original.jpg

The Kremlin- sounds like a name that belongs to a freaky roller coaster, but it's just a cathedral in Moscow, Russia. And a Kremlin is actually a Russian citadel, not a roller coaster. Now this, I'd post a picture in the post like the res here, but I couldn't fit it to give it enough justice. It is so elaborate and beautiful.

The Golden Gate Bridge in San Fran. Construction began during the Depression and the bridge opened in May 1937. The actual idea for the bridge was conceived in 1872, but they didn't have the technology then to battle the winds and waters to build such a bridge yet. It was the world's longest suspension bridge until 1964, beaten by the Verrazano-Narrows bridge in NYC I believe. Pedestrian traffic is actually encouraged. Awesome.

Fallingwater. I'm sure you've seen the chain mails, but still. It's built and designed by Frank Lloyd Wright, and the house straddles Bear Run at the top of a waterfall. It was built for the Kauffman family as a summer home, but the grounds are now maintained by the Western Pennsylvania Conservancy.

Of course, the Sydney opera house. It's a multi-venue performing arts center, obviously in Sydney, Australia. It was designed and built by Danish architect Jørn Utzon, and contrary to its name it is not just an opera house. Instead of just one opera hall there are two main venues- the opera theater and concert hall.

And now, the Burj Al Arab, the most beautiful hotel in the world. I think. If you click the pictures it makes it bigger because I poorly shrank them down. But anyway. From Dubai in the UAE, the pictures say it all. It's also on the cover of Owl City's Ocean Eyes. Good choice, Adam Young.

I'm done. Go be inspired to build pretty buildings, or to stay in the Burj Al Arab. Adieu.

I hate it / Questioning the world: a two part post of complaints and soul-searching

I hate it how people are judged by their apparent style. "You are what you wear," that's the world's philosophy and it is wrong.

Why must we judge each other?

I know why style should matter. It's an important way to express who we really are. But what if you're like me and don't actually know yourself yet so you just pick something? How can you judge them for that?

I hate it how people are classified like animals into cliques and castes because of one person's judgement.

Why must we hate each other?

I hate all the racial clubs at my school. Federation of Christian Athletes. Southeast Asian Society. Muslim Students Association. As if we weren't divided enough.

Why do we always feel the need to belong somewhere, to be a part of something, to be with people just like you?

I feel like that's a huge quirk in the human race.

I hate capitalizing the word i. I do now becuase it's the first letter of a sentence. But we don't capitalize me. Only i. I might not be a good judge of this but as far as i know no other languages capitalize it. I'll do it for the sake of good grammar and out of habit in my posts, but not this one.

Would capitalizing i make us feel that much more important? Is this why we're all so bigheaded?

I hate feeling rejected.

Why can't people just accept each other and make each other feel included?

Why is it that i make myself get rejected?

Why do i reject myself?

Why do i reject others?

Why do i push away what is right in front of me?

Is it that it isn't good enough?

Who am i to be such a perfectionist when i put on the face of hakuna matata all the time?

I hate feeling obligated to do something.

What's the point?

I hate being stressed. Busy, i don't mind, but stress is a no-no.

Is this something we can control?

I hate not being able to say the things i want to say.

I hate being afraid to be who i am because of what others might think.

Why do we feel so oppressed?

Is it all in our heads?

How the heck are we supposed to guess?

I hate it how i have no clue who i am, even yet. I think i just put on a different face for whoever i come across. Is there anyone i'm truly myself with? I mean, all the way?

Why the hell can't i figure it out?

I'm the one who's supposed to know me best, right?

Wrong?

I hate it when i really, really want to write something or do something and i do it and then it comes out awful. I feel like i wasted the feeling. It's like a photo. Once you capture it, however badly, it's gone.

I hate being lonely.

I hate knowing that half of my problems, i cause myself.

Why?

Amoureux

Ackkkkkkkkkk.

Life is boring. Nothing is new, just the same old. The only new things are stress, and that comes in waves. Life is just generally uneventful, painfully typical, painfully mundane.

Sorry this post isn't very interesting.

AWWWWWW!

So, today my dad had to get a procedure done at the hospital. He told me that when he woke up, my mother was holding his hand.

Awwwwwww!!!!

This is a big aww factor for me because sometimes my parents fight. They've almost gotten divorced... once or twice. They always give me subtle hints that they don't really love each other any more. So I think this is twice as sweet.

My Guy Friend

After posting this, I realize a little clarity is needed. The "he" pronoun is usually reserved for the guess who, the love of the lifetime/week, and any other he pronouns are for plain old people. Since I don't want to use names, "he" in this post is my guy friend and "guess who" is "guess who." They are definitely not the same person.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He knows something's up, so he texted me and asked if I was okay. I said yes. He didn't believe me, so I made something minor up and then he believed me. Here is what he said in the second to last text... "uuuuhhhhh it sort of made sense.... u sure ur ok though.... the only reason im being over obsessive is bcause ur my friend and I want to make sure ur okay" This was a big aww moment, and I thanked him for that.

I want to pour my heart out to him and tell him everything. I want to tell someone. I want to tell them every little thing just to get it off my chest.

In reality though, it’s probably good that I can’t breathe when I’ve got all this shit on my chest, because I’d probably say something dumb or my heart would escape and run down the hallway to my guess who, and then I’d die because my heart ran away.

Fuzz

I feel fuzzy. I’ve never liked a guy like him before, but it’s exactly like everything else. Just as fuzzy.
...
You still sigh when you think about him. You see him and your heart speeds up. You’re afraid of anyone knowing, especially him. All of these things... This is love.

It’s a feeling in your chest... Somewhere between your heart and your stomach. You know it’s there when your heart skips and your stomach churns. You get that giggly feeling but suppress it for fear of actually giggling. You blush, you tremble, you twirl your hair.

You bite your lip, thinking. Your eyes just want a glimpse of him, your hands just want to brush by him, you just want him, nothing but him, and you'll be happy forever.
...
He has no idea, and I'll never tell him. Since this could never happen and I've denied it all for a week... well, I finally accepted it and look at me. Poetic and fuzzy. Oh, the shame. Hit me when you see me next, don't even ask about because I'll probably tell you nothing.

PS. This is the meltdown post I was talking about.

Don't say I didn't tell you, because I did.

"I wish we had Halloween off" and other stories and useless stuff I'm thinking that you probably don't care about.

Run, you're going to die if you don't give us our Halloween back. Noooo, we have to go to a competition. I didn't get it last year either because we had a stupid football game! Something really scary happened and we almost won - 21-23. It was crazy.

But anyway. My nerves are just frayed this week. I'm leaving at 2 to go to a marching band clinic. We're not bringing any of our own instruments (thank goodness) but I should probably bring my stick bag or something. Then we have a game so basically I won't be home until sometime around 11. Then tomorrow. I have practice at 12:30, but a band-paid corn maze at 9:45 for breast cancer research if I feel like getting up then. Then we leave for competition and theoretically get back at 12:30 to unload the truck. I'll be home around 1:30-2, most likely.

sooo... My nerves are totally frayed, like I said. I don't think I'll be able to make it through, no lie. Yesterday we had a band concert, which was fine. But I'm just so frustrated and pissed off about everything. Every little bad thing pushes me closer to the edge. Everything makes me want to cry, or run away, or just go back to bed and hide under the covers.

What's worse, is that my stupid, angsty little teenage heart has got a bad case of wanderlust again and may have set its eyes on two guys at once. One of them is a different religion than me - wait, what is my religion? - no, my family, and my father would never approve. The other, I'm not sure if he can connect my name to my face.

My mind is totally churning and my emotions have no clue where to go so they're going everywhere. Right now, I kind of feel like I just ran a mile, then I was told that it didn't count and now I have to run it again. I'm sensing a giant meltdown post coming up in a day or two. Prepare yourself for the apocalypse. Sorry.

A few secrets...

- I wish I was thinner. (Doesn't everyone?)

- I am afraid of needles.

-For almost the same reason, I am also afraid of tampons, but girls have to make sacrifices or die.

- There is a girl in the back of my head who is a confident bitch. There is another girl who is sweet and shy. Usually, they just mix wrong and I become shy and bitchy.

-I believe in magic.

-I hate telephones and hairdryers.

-I cry a lot. I am a very emotional person. Yet, since I've got some strange psychological mind problem, in my head crying = weak so I never let anyone see me cry. Everything makes me cry. Frustration, despair, hopelessness, jealousy, everything.

- I'm actually extremely lazy and I have to work really hard to get myself motivated.

- I want to rebuild myself. I'm kind of tired of myself. I'm revamping my life slowly, starting with my room and my wardrobe. Yeah, um, I'll let you know how this goes.

- I might like a guy who might know my name. If by a bizarre stroke of luck he does, he probably can't connect it to my face. But I might not like him. I'll let you know that too...

- I wish I was a good artist. But I can't draw to save my life, I can't sculpt or paint, I'm not very creative, I can't write and I'm not good at poetry, I'm not very good at sewing or mending, I'm not great at composing and I'm not outstanding at music...

- I think my life is boring. If my life happened to become a book, I wouldn't read it. I wouldn't even read the back cover. I'd stick it back on the dusty shelf in the very back where it belongs.

- All in all, I'm a boring, painfully normal person, and somehow this bothers me. The problem is, I think I'd probably have a coronary or a vasospasm if my life was actually interesting.

- Basically to sum up this whole thing, I'm going through mid-life crisis as a teenager. As in, who am I, what is my purpose, why am I so insignificant, etc. I give people advice for this kind of thing all the time. Hakuna matata, that's what I pretty much tell them. Sooooo... Whenever I start freaking out and practically hyperventilating (okay not really but still) I just have to sit myself down and give myself a pep talk. This is probably looks insane to anyone who stops and watches me for long enough. I mean, I don't think I look too insane, because I don't look like I'm talking to anyone else, or myself.... maybe? Anyway. I just have to ask myself, "are you afraid of this? are you afraid of that? are you going to remember tomorrow? are you going to remember when you're fifty? are you going to die? what's the worst? what's the best? then what are you afraid of?" And then I'll get all pumped and be like, "that's right, I'm not afraid of anything!" (*lielielielieliecoughcough... what?) and get going with a spring in my step. That spring usually rusts by the end of the hour.

But yea. Nothing is working and now I'm just rambling, and now you get to see the insane side of me.

I'm sorry. I'll shut up. It's hard to take my secrets seriously now, I bet. Ah well.

Autumn

Is love.

Today I plan on going on a walk and bringing back some pictures. I'll edit them in to this post if I do.

Santa Claus

At the time my sister was 5 and I was 7. She'd always been the sort of skeptical type. Whenever my dad read us stories, she'd always stop him. "Nuh-uh. That couldn't happen. aren't real/can't happen."

When I was little, I believed in fairies. I wrote them letters, sealed them in envelopes that I drew all over, and hid them in the flowers outside in the evening. My mother wrote back to me, pretending she was the fairies. The envelopes were all decorated with glitter. I raced out in the mornings to find the little fairy letters. She told me the truth when I found one of my letters and asked her how she found it.

So hopefully now you know that I would still probably be writing to fairies had my mother not told me what was really going on. Oh well. If it were my sister, she would have none of that.
Back to the story. It is a month or so before Christmas. My mom and sister are eating breakfast. They are talking in low tones about something, and I hear them a bit more clearly as I come down the stairs.

Then my five-year-old sister says, "Mom, Santa Claus isn't real, is he." She doesn't ask, she just says it.

"Well," says my mother as she sees me, "I'm not quite so sure Cypress wants to know..." By then of course I already know the answer and she does too, but I pour myself a glass of milk as I hear my mother telling my sister what really goes on.

"Well it seemed kind of dumb anyway." She said this snottily as she wiped her mouth. "A big fat guy couldn't even fit down our chimney and a sleigh wouldn't fit on the roof. Reindeer can't fly."

My sister was sure a wise-ass five-year-old.

And I probably would still be believing in Santa Claus if it wasn't for her.

I have an advertisement. You have to see this.

http://www.theanimalrescuesite.com/clickToGive/home.faces?siteId=3&link=ctg_ars_home_from_ars_home_leftnav_logo
Go here. I just spent an hour signing every petition and clicking on the donation buttons on each page. I cried when I read the petitions. I felt warm and fuzzy when I clicked the little button. Am I making a difference? I don't know. But I feel fuzzy.

Go get your dose of fuzzy for the day.

List of grievances (as written in my journal)

October 18, 2009, Sunday

I just wrote 2090. Maybe I’ll die on October 18 2090. Ah well. I’ll be 96 years old, I think. Not bad. [My goal is to reach 106 years old so I can see 2100. I'm such a nerd.]
Anyway, the real reason I’m here writing is to complain.

- I have a long list of things that I should be doing but I really want to just chill out for one day in my life. Yesterday I spent all day volunteering at the museum. It was fun because I got to talk about whales, but still. My throat is sore now from having to talk so much.
- My hair is disgusting and I have to shower but I’m too afraid of getting cold when I take my clothes off and then when I get out of the hot shower. Plus, I don’t feel like being wet for the next two hours as my hair dries because I hate hair dryers. Oh, the difficulty of beauty.
- I have to do lots of math, plus I have a quiz tomorrow. Dammit.
- I have another practice writing test tomorrow. I missed the preparation class because of the stupid arts festival that I had no choice but to play in.
- My throat hurts.
- I’m cold.
- I’m pissed off.
- I still don’t have a boyfriend.
- My mother is nagging me to do this stupid reflections shit (wow, I was listening to music and they sang reflection as I was writing it… omg it just happened again on that next one!) and I can’t think of anything for “Beauty is.” Nothing original. She wants me to write and perform music. I don’t.
- I have to get my stupid govschool essay done today or tomorrow (today since I know I’ll want to do it even less tomorrow) because it’s due Tuesday.
- I have to make sure Myers got my recommendation done.
- I also emailed him begging to let me turn in my seminar sheet tomorrow (since I forgot on friday), and commented that I liked his choice of music -he was blaring Beatles in his office after the game, and he said yes and asked me what I was talking about. Now I feel dumb. I have to explain tomorrow since I don't feel like emailing him.
- I have to get up early tomorrow.
- I have to get fruit orders from the Wagners and the Judds and Mrs. Hart, since I signed up for her.
- I have a long list of revamp things but now I kinda don’t feel like revamping if it means work. I’m too tired.
- I discovered Neon Neon’s Stainless Style. I like the album a lot and almost illegally ripped it off the internet. Last week, I remembered that I ripped off Owl City's Maybe I'm Dreaming.... Then I felt guilty but I’d already ripped off I Told Her On Alderaan. (Hold on… I'm copying this into my computer journal, and I'll probably put it on my blog too since I'm that bored... Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anakin Skywalker. Leia Organa. *snaps fingers* [It didn't recognize Organa.] Aww, dangit. I thought that my computer was recognizing Star Wars words.) So… I’m trying to convince my mom to buy it, since it’s very 80’s sounding and my dad might like it, but it has 3 explicit rap tracks that I don’t like and daddy might say no because of that. Ah well.
- Somebody to love? No. Thanks anyways for trying, Queen.
- No one ever emails me back, I get like 5 emails a day… usually two nags from my mom, a falcon forum, a high school youth ministry, and maybe one from a friend. People, you are not allowed to have lives! You have to be online all day like me! Argh. This is sad that this upsets me so. *nerd*
- I want to watch the Little Mermaid. I think I will. Bye.

Life, Liberty, and Pursuit of a Boyfriend

Last year, my friends said that they were going to get me one.

They didn't.

I feel kinda chipped.

Overrated

As it is sunday, I will do something I have not done in a while...

A ten on sunday list! ooooooooooooo

10. iPods and iWhatevers.

9. Family guy. The show just uses old jokes.

8. "Green" movement. Really, buying a cloth bag does not save the environment unless everyone in the country does it. "Ohh, I'm so green"

7. "Emo." I hate the wannabe emos. Emo is a very real thing. But also, it's just a bunch of whiny kids. The wannabes are what throws it over the edge for me though. This gives way to the next two things.

6. Converse. As much as I love Converse, this is such a wannabe emo thing if you do it wrong. "ohhh I'm so emooooo"

5. Bands like My Chemical Romance and Hawthorne Heights or whatever. While I like them I hate how they are labeled emo because they are not.

4. Starbucks. really. Expensive coffee that in truth is not that great. But I admit, it is fun once in a while.

3. Being the loner. It looks so glamorous in movies and books, and the loner guy character is always hot/cute and always sad looking. But for real. Being a loner is not as fun, and most loners stay loners. Cinderella is wrong.

2. Obama. I mean really. He needs to walk all of his talk before I believe him. He has good intent and I respect him as a person but so far he's barely proven himself as a good leader. He's not even "black" he's "multi racial" and I'm sick of the first-black-president crap and the Obama apparel and the he's-black-so-we-need-to-respect-him. Race is so touchy. I could write a whole 'nother post on it. He seems so much more celebrity than president right now, though, whether he intends that or not.

1. High school. Ugh.

Now that I've whined about all that and look like an asswipe... haha.

Music sidebar stuff rant

Okay. So, if you've ever clicked my little "musica" thing in the sidebar with all my lovely songses, it works well, right?

But, to me, it sucks. For one, it doesn't fit right. I tried to move it over, or squish it down, but I can't figure it out. Of course, I could just pick a skin that fits. (but the rest are ugly! Or they just don't match the blog well.) Or I could just put it on the bottom, but I don't want to do that.

I did change the colors, though, they are less dreary. Me likes them.

However... back to the bad stuff. Some of the songs don't work, and I wanted to put on some new ones, but they didn't work either. The songs are Rainbow Veins and Early Birdie by Owl City (good band), No Surprises and Reckoner by Radiohead, and Hero/Heroine by Boys Like Girls. How annoying. So I deleted them. They are good songs, though, so go look them up. Owl City is especially awesome.

So... That's it, rant over. Thanks for reading.

Good Charlotte

Needs to make another song. The song "I don't wanna be in love" is a fabulous song - it was my mantra and motto two years ago.

But now...

I kinda want it back. I do kinda wanna be in love. It's a nice, fuzzy feeling, I'm ashamed to write. I mean, I thought I liked one guy but was that just because he started dating some girl? (By the way, she dumped him because she "missed her old boyfriend", so now he's going out with someone else and a few weeks later so is she... who happens to be one of his friends. *sigh* Girls. However, his friend was the one that did the asking, and I am not aware that this was planned by his friend to spite him. I don't think he would do that. He's too strange. I'm honestly kinda surprised that his friend isn't actually gay. Yes, that was mean of me to say, but it really was a bit of a shocker.)

Anyway, enough of me being catty, back to the whole purpose of this post.

It really is a beautiful thing. While it does tear you apart and leaves you crying in the darkness, it definitely is something worth it to fight for. It's fuzzy. It makes you smile just thinking about it.

You stay up at night, wondering if he's wondering about you. (If you're me, he's probably not.) You do everything just to impress him, and while he never really notices, you still feel better. You pick the petals off of dead flowers, frequently landing on he-loves-me-not and doing it over because that flower had a petal that fell off in the first place anyway. Right? Riiiiight. You search the internet and all your old yearbooks for his pictures, so you can sigh and stare deeply into his eyes without it getting too awkward.

You watch him when he talks, and smile when he smiles. Every song you hear makes you think of him. You wish on shooting stars that he'll notice you. You smile at him just to see if he'll smile back, and then you trip over something. He may or may not laugh, depending on if he noticed you.

You go where he goes, in a non-stalkerish way, of course. You write pretty poetry in your journals. You might even fit his last name up with yours, just hypothetically, of course. You giggle with your friends about him (or if you're anything like me, you keep it and take your secret to the grave, giggle to yourself, and look insane to your friends and passers-by).

You do something stupid and look over your shoulder to make sure he wasn't watching. You dedicate your every victory to him. You become a much more shy, insecure person. You lie awake at four in the morning, crying. You would go to the ends of the earth and back for him.

You play over imaginary scenes in your head where you actually talk to him. You remember every conversation you have had with him, and realize hours later how dumb you probably looked. You try to impress him, you try to make him laugh... Just being near him makes your heart skip a beat. You worry when he's not at school, your brain whirring into overdrive, dreaming up a million horrible things that could have happened to him. When you pray for your family's and friends' protection and happiness, you pray for his too.

You sit by yourself and daydream. His face haunts your dreams. Every journal entry you write mentions him somewhere. Your friends wave their hands in your face as you stare off at apparently nothing. They laugh at you if you tell them, but you don't care... or at least you pretend not to. You love him more than chocolate when Georgie's here, you love him more than a fat kid loves cake. You want him more than the desert wants rain, more than Miley Cyrus wishes she had real talent. You love him, you want him, you need him, yet you know that could never happen.

And so you fight for it. You fight for love. Something as stupid as that. Like bombing for peace and fucking for virginity. Fighting for love. A walking oxymoron (Taylor, three more for you).

But do. Do fight for love, and all the pain it brings. Love is a battle. Love is a truly wonderful thing, for without it we are bare calloused creatures. Sometimes I fear we already are...

I feel inspirational. The thing is, I think maybe I am (in love, that is). I think there maybe is someone who is starting to be all those things I talked about.

Here we go again.

I hope I'm right about that, or I'll have been hopelessly profound and dorky sounding for no reason.

HILARIOUS

Today I was eating a cupcake when the phone rang. I panicked and stuffed the entire cupcake into my mouth. I still don't know why I did that. MLIA

Last night, my dad walked in on my girlfriend and me. He asked if he could join in. We were playing rock band. MLIA.

Today, I woke up with a piece of toast on my face. I have no clue as to how it got there because I live alone. All I know is that my window was open overnight. MLIA

Today, I was texting in class. My 20-something teacher looked at me, and asked me to stand up. Cunningly, I hid the phone between my legs. My teacher asked me to open my legs. I winked. I got detention. MLIA

Today I joined a new website and used the word "penis" as my password. The website said my password was too short. MLIA

Today, I came home to my mom scowling, my dad smirking, and my little sister grinning. Apparently, my sister got into a fight with a fellow 5th grader, saying that the Beatles pwned the Jonas Brothers. My sister and the girl argued until my sister tackled her while yelling, "I am the walrus! Goo goo g'joob!" I have never before felt like such a positive influence to my siblings. MLIA

Today, my little brother asked me what "porn" is. Not wanting to tell him the truth, I immediately told him it was the abbreviation of "popcorn". Later at night he told my parents that he wanted to watch a movie with porn. MLIA

Today, I had a chemistry test I didn't study for, so I stayed home from school. When the school called to ask why I wasn't at school, I panicked and told them I was having menstrual cramps. They accepted my story without question. I'm a guy. MLIA.

Today my doctor told me I need to take Steroids for a week. I asked him if it would shrink my testicles. He politely reminded me that I am a girl. MLIA

Today, I realized that the word OK is a sideways person. I totally forgot about what I was doing and proceeded to make a whole family of OK people on a word document by using different colors and font sizes. MLIA
Today, while driving to work I passed a Catholic Church who's sign read "Happy Rosh Hashanah to our Jewish Neighbors." Next to the the church is a synagogue who's sign read "Thank You!" Its nice to know that they get along despite thier differences. MLIA

Today, my dad pointed the TV remote at me. I started making beeping sounds. My dad looked confused, so I explained, "You turned me on." I immediately regretted this. MLIA.

Today, my teacher saw me texting under the desk and grabbed my phone. She didnt grab my penis. MLIA.

A fortnight ago I finally solved my rubiks cube. I waited two weeks to post this so that I could use the word fortnight.

Today, I was having sex with my girlfriend. She yelled out the name Tommy. My name is Tommy. MLIA

Last night, I was really hot in bed, so I took one leg out of the covers. Then I got scared because it was too dark and my leg felt unprotected from somthing hiding under my bed. So I put it back under the blankets. MLIA

Today, I realized that I am unemployed, live with my mother, play video games all day in my basement, and I am still a virgin. It's alright, I finish 9th grade next week. MLIA

Today, as I was waiting on line at a store, I noticed the cashier had a British accent. When it was my turn, I faked a British accent in conversation. He asked me where I was from, so I admitted that I was faking. His British accent disappeared as he said, "Me too." MLIA.

Today, I saw a commercial for the Snuggie. I thought it was stupid idea but I couldn't change the channel because I was under a blanket and I didn't want my arms to get cold. MLIA

Today, my boss passed me in the hall at work and asked me "Do you have a sec?". I was trying to be flippant and replied "I have tons of secs". We both pretended I didn't say that. MLIA.

Today, the whole world came crashing down on me, so I got some tape and stuck the map back onto the wall. MLIA

Today, I wanted to comment on a friend's status, but it was only a few seconds old and I didn't want to seem like a stalker. I waited a few minutes and then commented. MLIA

Today, I was trying to telepathically communicate with my teacher in class. He didnt look at me the whole time I was calling out 'sir' loudly in my head, then I thought I'd lie and tell him I slept with his wife, he glanced at me from the corner of his eye. I know he can hear me. MLIA

Today I ate a tootsie pop. It took 473 licks to get to the tootsie roll center. You're welcome world. MLIA

Today I had rice. I'm asian. MLIA

mylifeisaverage.com Best site in the world.

after the war

Today the flowers were looking a little thirsty, so I decided to go out and water them. We have one of those windy hose box things where you turn the handle and the hose winds up inside. However, the hose was really tangled up in there. I spent the next half hour untangling it.

After the climatic battle, I had managed to accidentally separate the joint between the two parts of the hose, spraying myself with water - not only soaking through my shirt so you could see my bra, but making me look like I wet my pants. Out of spite and to show the hose who was really boss, I didn't go inside for a change of clothes and watered those flowers anyway.

Well, somebody had to do it

So, today I was in band class and we're sightreading a bunch of music. We're about to play some pops thing and My Heart Will Go On. I have this giant solo but every time I see the word "solo" and 16th notes in it, I freak out and freeze up. I've been trying to stop this, but no success thus far. "Think Celine Dion! Think Celine Dion!" my band teacher calls across the room to me. Nonetheless, I botch it.

I go up to my band teacher after class and hand him my music. "Sorry," I say, "I forgot to hand this in with the flutes."

"That's all right," he replies and takes it.

"Oh, also, I'm sorry for killing Celine Dion," I add with a grin.

He smiles back. "Well, somebody had to do it."

HA! Officially my favorite moment of the week.

Argh.

I have recently been informed that my commenting doesn't work. I checked it out myself.

It doesn't. You can try too if you like. If you can get it, you get a cookie. But it doesn't, so I don't plan on baking any for you.

I don't know why it's not behaving. I'm working on fixing it. It's quite perplexing, becuase I just changed the layout, but then it stopped working. I figured it was the layout, so I cleared everything and started from scratch. It still doesn't work.

Argh.

If anyone has any tips, I would beg ask you to share but you can't comment.

ARGH!

PS. I have changed it now so that to post a comment it goes to a separate page. I didn't want to do this because I personally find it annoying, but that's the way it will have to be from now on. Now, if only I just had some more people to actually comment, life would be good. (I'm just kidding. I love my loyal readers. You make me feel so important when you comment and tell me I'm awesome. Which is kinna sad, but whatever.)

Revelation

My goal is to replace my soul with coffee and become immortal.

vegetarian chicken

This is a fail. My mother is trying to get me back into eating meat, so she buys me meat flavored vegetarian food. Why even sell this? Why would a vegetarian want to be reminded of chicken?

Fail.

This calls for a BOYCOTT!

Found this on the internet -

" Recently on Harpercollins website and barnes and noble I across two new covers for Pride and Prejudice and Wuthering Heights, and the redesigned covers really annoyed me. The wuthering Heights one is like the other one with the Edward and bella circle but for the US. Heres the two covers:

Okay, this really has gone overboard. They are trying to sell these books based of twilight. I'm so sick of twilight and it's so annoying that they are doing this to classic, well written books. I mean the color scheme and the flower are so twilight. And the font is the exact same font, Zephyr, that is on the twilight covers. And they have the bella and edward's favorite book on the wuthering heights cover. It ashames me what they are doing to these amazing works of literature just to profit off the sucess of twilight. I mean, it could be a good think, getting people to read the classics, but the Twilight thing really has gone to far. Don't even get me started on the perfume, jewlery, clothing, etc. lines based off the books...."

I am sick of people when they get obsessive over Twilight and try to shove it down everyone's throats.

Some people don't want to hear it. In some ways, this may help the sales of the books but it can be a complete instant turn-off to anyone who doesn't like Twilight and could completely repel them from ever reading it.

Besides, doesn't that defeat the point of the actual books themselves? As if Stephanie Meyer isn't rich enough! Gah!

I am so boycotting Twilight. Who's with me?

*sigh* the world's a critic...

In response to the last post, my mother told me that she thinks I'm full of shit since I hate shopping. She thinks that next week my passion is going to be gardening, then soccer.

...............................................................................

I'm full of shit? Ow. There go my hopes and dreams, thanks mom for your support.

Well, yes, sometimes I really am just full of shit but oww!

GUESS WHAT!

Today, I finally think I realized where I truly want to go in life. I can barely describe what I want to say but I think I finally found my path.

I am dumping math and science and all that. It psyches me out. I can never, ever work in an office. I couldn't do anything athletic for my life, and, while I love to help people, I am terrible at talking to them.

So, I have decided that I truly do want to pursue art.

This is really weird to say for those of you know me, but today, I realized that I have a serious passion for fashion. I don't know where that came from. But I really do. I love clothes. I love to see them, I would love to make them. I adore something that looks good. I love colors, especially paired with black. Granted, I have no self confidence whatsoever and don't feel good stepping out of jeans-and-a-t-shirt to wear most of this I'm talking about, but I love them. I am going to pursue art and fashion and design. I'm going to go for music and poetry and writing and painting and all that.

Now, if you're wondering what happened to marine biology, don't worry. I still love it. But I just don't think I can do the whole "scientist" thing. It's so... I don't know. I love it, I love the sea, I love the life that lives in it... but everyone and their sister wants to swim with the dolphins because they think that's what it's all about. Now me, I know it's not. But still...

Well, my dad tells me I'll make no money either way, but for once he says that I should just go where I want. And that is great. Finally. Being accepted, being allowed to go where I want to go. I always tried to do so well in science and math because I knew they thought I was perfect for scientist and that's what I would do, and I didn't want to disappoint them. But hearing that my dad says that I should follow my dreams and go for it, that is awesome. This is the cynical man who says we'll be living in refugee camps in a few years thanks to Obama's health plan.

I can't even tell you how awesome this is. I mean, just a blog post when I finally know where I want to go...

I mean, I thought I'd found my path and my calling before this, but it's never actually felt so right. You just know when something's right. And you can tell it's different from when you thought you knew before.

I guess I'm not making any sense, so I'll just shut up. (wow, I just typed shit up, wow.)

sad, i know

This is one of my journal entries from a month ago (note my epic eloquent answers):



Girl also in pit : Hey, do you know *this girl*?
Moi : Uh, yeah.
Girl : And, do you know *stupid idiot boy*?
Moi : Uh, yeah.
Girl : Did you know they’re like, together? (She puts up her first two fingers and taps them together, then crosses them.)
Moi : Uh, yeah.


Thanks for the visual, love.
GOD.
I know this is a horrible thing to wish, but I wish I was sunburned again, so no one could tell when I’m blushing.

The official story of my life

...nothing to say

Sorry, my life is just painfully normal right now.

Marching band, homework, oboe, the occasional hint of a social life/friends, school...

All in all, nothing exciting.

But in my world, I suppose, no news is good news.

OH MY GOSSSSSSSSSSSSH

IT'S THE SECOND FARKING DAY OF SCHOOL AND WE HAVE A MATH QUIZ TOMORROW.

WTFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

I hate math, I suck at math, and this is ALGEBRA, which I nearly FAILED two years ago.

I am so screwed.

And majorly pissed off. And about to throw my textbook across the room because these problems are ridiculously hard.

I am screeeeewed.

School

Screw it.

I don't want to wake up early. I just want a break, with no one poking me in the back to get going or keep moving.

Ugh. This is ridiculous. I'm such a whine bucket. Sorry!

Two words.

See if you can figure out any more of my life for me. School hasn't even started yet, how can it be this confusing? Jeez!

Title: Two words.
Author: Cypress
Summary: One sorry-looking teenage girl’s thoughts and feelings over one weekend, summarized into two words per subject. (AKA, too tired to make this many full sentences actually coherent. Besides, we could all use some crappy forms of poetry now and again, especially by people like me who suck at writing but like it anyway.)

Dad. Workaholic.
Stop cleaning!
So tired.
Back hurts.
Foot hurts.
Knee hurts.
Scrapes hurt.
Bruises hurt.
Bites itch.
Hands hurt.
Hang nail.
Finger scabs.
Eyes hurt.
Ears hurt.
Head hurts.
Owie.
Camp. Tiring.
Love mountains.
Never leave.
Stay forever.
Not.
Bathrooms sucked.
Dirty, gross.
Bugs everywhere.
And mildew.
I’m allergic.
Achoo!
Boy. Confusing.
Love maybe?
Screw it.
Gaaaaah.
Porch swing.
Creaks nicely.
Beatles song.
Singing. Good.
Comforting… depressing.
Confusing much?
Oh, yeah.
Sister. Brat.
Too much.
Ack.
Vegetarian food?
No no.
Camp food.
Just meat.
Ew.
Ran activities.
Us, dad.
Rifle range,
Mountain top.
Loooong walk.
Very hot.
Mountain cool.
For all,
Fire balls!
Good candy.
Bad shot.
No bull’s-eyes.
No candy.
Oh well.
BB guns?
Good idea.
Neck hit,
Shots ricochet.
That hurt.
Bad idea.
Ow ow.
Stupid boy.
In head.
Won’t leave.
Stupid boy.
Stupid boy.
Hate you.
Love you.
Go away.
Now, please.
School starts.
Two days.
OH NOES!
Not ready,
Am I?
Stupid me.
Hate school.
Please no.

WACKA-WACKA!

I have new shoes.

I'd like to call myself original, seeing as half the people who own Converse are "wemos" and get low-tops in black with neon pink/green laces.

Mine, they're white with purple laces. And red and blue racing stripes, instead of standard black.

Win!

Map Of The Problematique

A few things to say:

-I am done. I am done! Yay. No more waking up at 7 and coming home at 9, until school starts... in a week. Um, crap.

-I have an oboe audition in ... A week and two days. I have to play Respighi's Pines of Rome. That's the whales song in Fantasia 2000. (I mean really.. Pines of Rome, then flying whales? Ummm...)

-Also, the title of this post is a song by Muse and I think it kinda fits my life right now. But, that's that. I'm not going to let it get me.

-And.... I just emailed Taylor about this a little while ago.

Remember me ranting and raving about a guy named JR ages ago, those of you who know me? Well, I also mentioned him in like my fourth post ever, so if you want to go look, go for it. Anyways we professed our undying love for each other on the bus ride home one day in second grade, then didn't speak again until freshman year.

This morning I thought... jeez, what if he remembers that too?

Ha, that's awkward. Ha. Ha. No.

"whups, put the silly thing in reverse..."

(A cookie to anyone who can name the character who said that.)

This is very much backwards. Last year, it annoyed me a bit that he texted me all the time. I felt like he thought I was his personal entertainment system or something. He texted me just to say hi a lot of the time. I wished it away.

Now, I want it back. He doesn’t text back immediately. Or he texts back one word answers. Sometimes, he doesn’t text back at all. He’s not practically waiting by the phone for me to text, like before. Can I blame him? No, definitely not. He’s not my personal entertainment system.

Now, what does this sound like?

Stupid karma. I see how it is. =P

I kinda feel like I was getting eaten by the world last year, so I bit back. Then nothing happened, and now I’m getting eaten from the inside out.

By me biting, I mean me lashing out and wishing for it all to go away.

Now look what happened.

I’m getting eaten from the inside out now.

I am trying to focus on “Across the Universe” as my mantra. It’s not really working…

I keep telling myself nothing’s going to change my world, but it will. Everything will change my world. Everything will change. Nothing can pass me by without moving me or changing me in some way. Nothing can happen without me feeling it. Everything changes me. Everything changes who I am, every time anything happens, I change. In little ways that sometimes I don’t even notice, but I am a different person than I was last year. Last year, I was different than I was in middle school.

Who is John Lennon kidding? “Nothing’s going to change my world.” Right. Jai, Guru Deva. (Means thank you, Guru Deva, the Beatles' meditation coach or whatever you call it. Only I'm being sarcastic here.) Right. Stupid Guru Deva. He’s got it all wrong.

Across the Universe

Words are flowing out
Like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy
Are drifting through my open mind
Possessing and caressing me
Jai Guru Deva, om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Images of broken light
Which dance before me like a million eyes
They call me on and on across the universe
Thoughts meander like a restless wind
Inside a letter box
They tumble blindly as they make their way
Across the universe
Jai Guru Deva, om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Sounds of laughter shades of earth
Are ringing through my open views
Inciting and inviting me
Limitless undying love
Which shines around me like a million suns
It calls me on and on across the universe
Jai Guru Deva, om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Jai Guru Deva
Jai Guru Deva
Jai Guru Deva
…

This is the best song ever written by the Beatles. Besides Here Comes the Sun and Eleanor Rigby.

You're an idiot.

But I love you anyway.

*huggles*

Day Off

Finally.

Just once in my life. Woohoo!

Here's my to-do list for the day.

Sleep in.

Eat as much junk food as I like for breakfast.

Do no chores.

Play as many video games or read as many books as I would like.

Do whatever I want.

Finally I'm on my own schedule, yay!

And then tomorrow, it's back to the lab with me.

rock on

______________$$$$$$$$$
_____________$$$$$$$$$$$_________________________________,,
_____________$$$$$$$$$$$$______________________________$$$$$,
_____________`$$$$$$$$$$$____________________________$$$$$$$$
______________`$$$$$$$$$Z$______$$$_______$$$_______$$$$$$$$`
_______________`$ZzZ$$$Z$$$___$$$$$$$___$$$$$$$____$$$$$$$$`
________________`$$$ZZZ$$$$$_$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$$$$__$$$$$$$$`
_________________`$$$$$$$$$$_$$ZZ$$$$$_$$ZZZ$$$$_$$$$$$$$
____$$$$$$$$______`$$$$$$$$$$_$$$ZZZ$$_$$$$$ZZ$$_$$$$$$$`
__$$$$$$$$$$Z$_____`$ZZ$$$ZZZ_$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$
_$$$$$$$$$$$Z$$$$__$$$$zzz$$$_$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$`
_$$$$$$$$$$Z$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$_$$ZZ$$$$_$ZZZ$$$$$_$$$$$`
___`$$$$$$$Z$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$ZZ$_$_$$$$$$$_$$$$$`
________`$Z$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$__$$_$$$$$$_$$$$`
__________`$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$,““,$$$$,_““,$$$$$$$`
___________`$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$`
_____________`$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$$$$$$$$`
_____________`$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$$$$$$$`
__________________`$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$$$$$`
___________________`$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$_$$$$$$$`
_____________________$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$

Gghhyaaaaa it doesn't fit right. Well, I tried. And no, I didn't make this.

Ten Years From Now

Yeah... I can see it now...

Ten years from now, I walk into a bar, sit down, and order a drink. Then, this really nice looking guy walks in, and he's kinda cute too. He orders a drink.

"So," he says. "You come here often?"

What a cliche line. "Not really. What about you?"

"Oh, every once in a while," he says. The conversation goes on for a bit.

Then I ask: "So, what do you do?"

"Well, I'm actually right now *insert some awesome, either high-paying or really cool sounding job here*. What do you do?"

"Um, well, you see... I collect icons."

Yes, folks, I do. Take a look at how I've wasted my past like two hours.

Click on it to see it bigger. And if you want more... I've got 20 of them. Literally...

strip mall

Boys are something I'm really picky about. That's probably why I don't have a boyfriend or an inkling of one and probably won't any time soon. I can't go shopping for boys or anything, even if I do, I don't find anything I really like. But you can't shop for boys, they're not things you can buy.

So far, one has asked me out. I basically said I'm not ready, which, I'm pretty much not.

...It's fair game for both of us, then, right?

So why does it bother me so much when I see him with this freshman girl?

Answers come in two true forms - yes, and no. Basically, I said no.

I guess what I'm trying to say is... maybe what I meant was something else... But I've buried it down so deep I can't really tell...

I found myself chanting this to myself all day.

"Bury it deep
Don't let it show
Never ever
Let anyone know."

It's like a magic spell or something, that just doesn't really work.

I'm just as confusing as my sunburn is red. (Which is like over-ripe tomato red.)

halp meh

People.

I am about to leave for away band camp. It was about a zillion degrees out today. I am now officially raptus regaliter. (Look it up.)

Anyhow, please please please comment on this (link is HERE) post, it's a dying girl's wish.

To those of you who know me, it's been a real slice.

Byes.

I'm dead.

Bye.

Harry Potter vs. Edward Cullen Smackdown

In this corner, weighing in at 135 pounds, the boy magician with a heart of gold and Coke bottle glasses, the Heartthrob of Hogwarts, the Wizard Whose Wand You’d Like to Touch… Haaaaaarry Poooooootter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

In the other corner, weighing in at a muscle-rippling 165 pounds, we have the vampire with amber, no wait gold, no wait black eyes, the Bloodsucker Who Ditched His Girlfriend, the Undead with Sex Appeal… Edwaaaaard Culleeeeeeeeeen!!!!!!!!!

[Temporary delay in the match in order to kick screaming teenage girls out of the ring so Edward can actually breathe.]

Live from Neverland, for the thousands in attendance and the millions watching around the world, ladies and gentlemen, let’s get ready to rumble!

Ding!

Round 1: Edward rushes at Harry with puma-like speed. In an attempt to conjure a Patronus, Harry instead invokes the Expecto Patronans spell, accidentally hawking a loogie on Edward, who is so disgusted he retreats to his corner to be wiped down and pep-talked by his trainer, Carlisle.

Round 2: Bella arrives fashionably late at the stadium, her crap car having broken down on the way. In an attempt to impress her, Edward tears off his own shirt, followed by a long speech about how Bella’s his “own personal form of heroin” but they can’t be together because he’s too dangerous and he has “issues” blah blah blah. “Yeah, control issues,” says an annoyed Harry, and incants a Hair Loss Curse, upon which Edward’s unruly bronze mane falls out, rendering him completely bald. But when a shaft of light shines through the skylight of the arena (even smackdowns need mood lighting), Harry is temporarily blinded by Edward’s Beadazzled –marble-whatever skin. Harry stumbles back to his corner, where he is tended to by Ron.

[Temporary delay in the match in order to break up a ringside cat fight started when Hermione calls Bella a "Muggle." For the record, Hermione is winning.]

Round 3: As the contenders again approach the center of the ring, Harry prepares to cast an Obscuro spell to blindfold Edward, but the vampire is able to read his mind. With lightning speed, Edward climbs the ropes and lunges at Harry in a Flying Clothesline before the wizard can get the word out. Harry is knocked to the ground, but the referee pulls them apart before Edward can sample his sweet, sweet half-breed blood.

Round 4: Driven delirious by Harry’s bloody lip, Edward says the name of He Who Must Not Be Named. The crowd gasps and Harry loses concentration when he glances around to make sure He Who Must Not Be Named But Was Just Named has not jumped in the ring. With Harry distracted, Emmett Cullen rips a ringside chair from the ground and tosses it to Edward, who then hurls it at Harry. It barely misses Harry, who uses an Aresto Momentum spell to slow it down. The chair drops on the ground, and Harry stands on it to do an elbow drop on Edward, who barely feels it, throwing Harry with a flick of his wrist back to his corner.

Round 5: A horrible storm rolls in, out of the lightning comes J.K. Rowling and out of the thunder comes Stephanie Meyer. They begin to duel with pen and paper to see who is the better writer. After three sentences Stephanie Meyer becomes horribly exhausted and stressed due to the fact she has no creativity or talent. Therefore she forfeits the round. The smackdown continues between Harry Potter and Edward Cullen.

Round 6: Harry conjures from the air giant maneating squids to attack Edward. This causes Edward, who finds normal people food gross, to become nauseated because he’s reminded of calamari. He returns to his corner to spew vampire chunks and have his now bald head stroked by Esme. Too bad, Squidward- I mean, Edward. The squids then become nauseated by Edward and fly away. They can fly because JK Rowling said so.

Round 7: Edward comes back from his corner and stands in the shaft of light again, his bald head blinding Harry yet again. Then, he proceeds to beat the crap out of Harry again. The ref again interferes and Harry is nursed quickly back to health by Romilda Vane, who pushed Ginny asde and tried to give him some more love potion but is stopped by Ginny, who is absolutely livid, and then Harry is pushed back out into the ring by Ron.

Round 8: Remembering that, as a wizard, he should have no trouble using his magic powers to win a wrestling match, Harry bellows “Incendio!” at the top of his lungs. Edward is saved by a mob of screaming teenage girls who push him aside and die in the fire themselves. As Bella exits the stadium, she is attacked and killed by Sanguini, a former member of the Slug Club. Hermione hired him. Edward goes home. At night, Voldypoo sneaks into Edward’s house and kills him after interrogating him for information about the Elder Wand.

Winner : Harry Potter, no questions. Amen.

After the match: Remus Lupin and Jacob Black become best friends. Alice Cullen fails to foresee that Emmett will be hit by a giant purple triple-decker bus. Romilda Vane is seduced by James and he bites her, but then Victoria locks her in a safe and drops her into the Gulf of Mexico. The Volturi and the Wizengamot face off, but it's hard to tell who won because Fudge is a moron and denies everything. JK Rowling proceeds to rule the world.

Cypress is in one of her weird moods again...

FOREVER

The most beautiful,
and the most dangerous sounding word
of all words

Seeing purple, haha

Well, last week I bought myself some purple pants and they are AWESOME. I brought them on vacation with me and we have a washing machine here.

I bet you can guess the rest. My sister and I threw in a load, I forgot all about the purple pants, and now everything that was remotely white is now remotely purple.

It's hilarious.

All is not right with the world

Disney World is NOT perfect! There was a monorail crash on the Epcot track at 2 in the morning. Two trains collided head on.

Holy cow. If Disney World isn't perfect, then where is the rest of the world going to be? I'm in total shock. Here's two full articles.

http://www.mahalo.com/disney-monorail-crash

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/31747987?GT1=43001

[no title today, thanks]

I want to write. I want to write sooooo bad. I brought my computer with me, and so I can, but I can't.

Arghhhh.

Some thoughts

I wish I could write down the words floating around in my head. More artfully, at least.

I wish that war would stop and people would stop dying. I wish one side wouldn't attack the other because they believe they're wrong. Each side believes they're right, but it doesn't mean the other sides are wrong. There are people on both sides. They are not animals. They are people like you. They have families and hometowns and probably enjoy sleeping in on a day off too. They probably just want to go home too.

I wish that I could do something for my country. As sarcastic as I often am about being patriotic, I'm actually kind of serious. I feel really cheesy right now but I wish there was something I could do. I don't like to watch Americans suffer, or anyone else for that matter. We're America. We're supposed to be the big cheese, the top dog, the land of the free and the home of the brave... but are we? We're kind of getting taken over by silent enemies. I'd list them in an artful way, but I don't think I could do that without ruining it today. *rolls eyes*

I think that Obama can help us, but he needs to stop talking and start walking. I think his health plan is just idiocy. It's like we're heading down the road to becoming a socialist nation.

We're losing ourselves here. We lose our sense of selves. We party now, for tomorrow we die. We don't. It becomes an assumption here that by the time you are 35, you will be in a rocky marriage with kids, working a 40 hour work week....

Whatever, it's late and I should go to bed. Good night.

There is something more. I am being optimistic, but I know I'm right here. XP

DO NOT PLAY CAKE MANIA.

I know, I'm so lame. But when you're at a lab waiting for your stupid gel to be done running, you've got nothing to do. So I logged on to MSN looking for games and I found Cake Mania. I was like, ah, this looks fun!

Do not play it!

It is addicting as hell! Then, I had to finish it when I got home too, just couldn't leave it alone. I wasted most of my evening on it... and now, my fingers hurt, and I have had the living hell annoyed out of me. The last level is impossssible and the people are even bitcher than me, which is crazy. And so effing annoying because they leave and you've got all their cakes lying around that you were just about to give to them and the next people in line are fuming... I was about to throw the effing computer across the room! Not really, but...I'm trying to wind down and chill my mind... Rrrr.

I'm all stressed out all over again.

Ugh.

Do not play Cake Mania. Ever.

Everything to say and no means to say it.

I have a tongue, a mouth, vocal cords, windpipe, lungs, oxygen, a brain (maybe), lips, teeth, etc. I have fingers, hands, arms, skin, muscles, blood, nerves, etc.

Yet none of the above would seem to like to work together to help me get a point across. Nothing deep, at least.

Everyone's moaning about Michael Jackson. Yes, I feel very bad for his death, the King of Pop is dead. What about Charlie's Angels' Farrah Fawcett - who got no publicity? And what about all those nameless people who die young? No one cares. Normal people aren't celebrities.

I don't really get what makes someone a celebrity. Anyone can scream into a microphone and edit it to make it sound good. Anyone can be anorexic and digitally alter all their photos and videos. Anyone can do it.

President Obama swats a fly, he makes the effin' headlines. Granted, he is the president, but come on. He makes the news when he goes to his daughters' soccer games, takes them for ice cream, whatever he does makes the news. I just don't understand why some people are so damn famous. Everyone breaks up with their boyfriend or girlfriend at some time or another. Millions of nameless people do drugs. That's sad. But no one cares. They care about Miss Slutty McBleachBlond and how she lost point-two pounds.

I'd love to say no one cares, but some people do.

They need to get a life.

And maybe I should change this post's title to "rant about celebrities."

Still, Michael Jackson died and whatever. That's sad. But when I die, I'm going to get a one-line obituary and no one's going to care except for like four people.

I guess I'm not expecting anything more, though. I'll outlive all you bastards, just watch, world. So there. I'm too mean to die. XP

song of the century

Sing us a song of the century
That's louder than bombs and eternity
The era or static and contraband
That's leading us to the promised land
Tell us a story that's by candlelight
Waging war and losing the fight
They're playing the song of the century
Of panic and promise and prosperity
Tell me a story into that goodnight
Sing us a song for me

Movies are stupid.

It's not fair.

Let's think. In every Disney movie, the heroine either starts out as a complete total nobody, or a mega-hottie princess. Think on it. And in just about every Disney movie with one of these, that stupid girl falls in love and gets married in the end.

Let's think some more... Cinderella gets Prince Charming, Jasmine gets Aladdin, the Beauty gets her Beast, miss Megara gets Hercules (whose name should really be Heracles if it's set in Greece), Ariel gets Prince Eric, Mulan gets Shang, Briar Rose/Aurora/Sleeping Beauty gets Prince Phillip, Snow White gets her prince who apparently has no name, Maid Marian gets Robin Hood, Nala gets Simba, Minnie obviously gets Mickey, Esmeralda gets Captain Phoebus, Faline gets Bambi, Jane gets Tarzan, oh my god I could go forever.

And Cypress gets......

BEN AND JERRY!!!!!!!!

My Week In Pictures (and some words too)

This is a plastic coin of my sister's that she bought as a souveneir on a field trip. Look closely. It says, "George Washington" and it has his face on it. Then, in the left corner, it says... "CHINA." America, where is your patriotism? *sigh*

This is the free expression tunnel which is right next to where I go for my internship. I love this place. If I were actually good at art, had access to some spray paint, and a place to paint, I'd so be a graffiti artist. We have a tunnel near my house, but the stupid town won't let it become a free expression tunnel. They must be afraid of teenagers.

I saw this as I was driving home one day. Note the license plate. "TWILITE." ... Are you fuckin' kidding me?? Stephanie Meyer, you have poisoned everyone's mind with your horrible books! My god!

My poor neighbor's cat passed this week. The one I was cat sitting for? Yea. Poor her. She didn't have a lovely death. She had a growth in her stomach, and she couldn't eat or anything like that. I had to give her medicine and make her special food, and clean up when she missed the litter box... again. Poor kitty. I'm going to miss her. This is the card we bought for my neighbor. She is a wreck. It says "On the other side of the bridge to forever, our animal friends wait for us." Awww.

And, it flooded here this week. This is the road that we (my dad and I) took to internship/work. If I were to go wading in it, I'd probably be about waist deep. Yech. That's from all the runoff of the development site up the road, which has been "in progress" for almost two years now. And they ripped down one of the most beautiful trees in the world. It makes me sad to write that. Poor tree.


My sister's birthday is also today, but I have no pictures for that. Also, my other sister has a piano recital this week, the one that she's only practiced about twice for. My brain is totally dead. I've had a stressful week. And, best of all, there is still leftover cookie cake downstairs from my sister's birthday slumber party. Score!

Dicktionary

I've decided to start a Dicktionary. Everything people do to act like a total dickhead, usually in my face.

Today, I drove home from my internship. It's pretty hairy. I think my dad was almost even more scared than me. But anyways. Stop-and-go traffic = bad for nerves. He needs a shot of something hard, haha. Anyway, as it finally started going, the freaking old mini-van wouldn't accelerate fast enough apparently, so this dude in his pimped out SUV behind me revved up his engine, switched lanes, and cut me off, then proceeded to drive off at about 90 miles an hour.

Jeez. Sor-RY, dude. You get entry one in the dicktionary. Grrrr.

People, feel free to be afraid, and feel very free to be very afraid. You'll probably see a lot more entries in this baby.