11.28.2009
Change
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.
11.26.2009
Happy Thanksgiving....
I think my dad may have already started cooking.
Other than this, I have nothing interesting to say.
11.21.2009
Owl City
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.
11.20.2009
"say hello to forever"
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.
11.17.2009
i am an average girl: a poem of confessions and sad truths
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.
11.13.2009
okay, so maybe mankind isn't all that bad.
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.
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.
11.11.2009
I hate it / Questioning the world: a two part post of complaints and soul-searching
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?
11.10.2009
Amoureux
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.
11.06.2009
AWWWWWW!
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.
11.03.2009
My Guy Friend
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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.
11.01.2009
Fuzz
...
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.
Hello!
Well, I see you've just had the imponderable joy of stumbling onto the blog of an 18-year-old girl who can't really describe herself in 500 words or less, such as in little text boxes like these. She didn't intend her blog to really become so much like her online diary (she was hoping it would have an interesting, helpful purpose to serve the world and all) but blogging is just kind of fun. This girl's a bit of an environmentalist and a full-tilt vegetarian, a bit of an artist who can't draw, a bit of a writer who can't find time to read, and a completely hopeless romantic. She enjoys white chocolate, coloring, wading in creeks, music, Doctor Who, and speaking in third-person when it's unnecessary like this.
Now go read the rest of the blog and meet her, if you like of course. :)