About you now

About you now

My dog has separation anxiety.

We're all leaving tomorrow, all of us besides my dad.  My mom and I are going on a ten-day college tour and my sister's going off to Jewish camp for three weeks.  There have been suitcases all over the house for days, constant laundry, redundant list-making.  Apparently my dog Gracie is a bit saddened by this, because tonight she decided it would be fun to pee all over my bathroom. 

I completely understand separation anxiety.  I understand the fear that when someone leaves they'll never come back.  I understand the fear of being left behind, forgotten.  But she is a dog.  She is an overweight, pampered, seemingly potty-trained dog who gets a lot of attention and a lot of love and has another dog to play with at home and isn't even being totally deserted because my dad's still going to be here.  Maybe I should be flattered, though, that she peed the length of my bathroom and not my parents' or my sister's. 

Before I came home to that, I went out with my friends and saw "Toy Story 3" and visited Gabs at Dairy Queen and had fun and felt like a teenager who was hanging out with her friends in the summer.  And this afternoon I finished season 1 of "The OC" with my sister.  I've packed season 2 to take with me on our east coast tour so I can watch it in hotel rooms while my mom reads books.  That's a huge turn of events from the way we used to be.  I'm not sure it's a good change, but I almost love "The OC" too much to care. 

If I could for just one night

If I could for just one night

Still stuck in my head:
"Cuz baby now I realize that I was wrong
When I said I didn't need you, soooo
Miss you bad so now I'm comin' home
So you better leave the light on
Wait for me and just leave the light on, heyyy"

Still watching:

Seth: What? Why, this is not supposed to happen.
Summer: You have to find the stud!
Seth: You mean like you did Summer?
Summer: Mhm, just get me the stud finder.
Seth: Oh Summer, I think you are the stud finder.

Still not:
Following people on tumblr who post a lot of "The OC" if they post too much KStew and RPattz shipping. 

Still wondering:
What the hell is wrong with me. 

Madly madly madly

Madly madly madly

This show breaks my heart to no end.

It's fricking after midnight right now and instead of sleeping like my mom wants me to be I'm sitting here at my computer wondering why there is so little OC love on tumblr.  This is a travesty considering that the number of quotable phrases Seth Cohen spits out per 43-minute episode is higher than that of the mismatched socks in my sock drawer.   

"I'm just having an allergic reaction to the universe."  

The story begins again and again

The story begins again and again

So I think I have this thing with emotion and being emotional and trying to explain my emotions, or maybe it's a thing with explaining, with always wanting to be taken a certain way, with not wanting to be misunderstood, with wanting to justify my actions constantly, constantly, always.  But I'm overcompensating, always overcompensating, putting in more than I'm getting back, doing more for other people than they're doing for me, trying to explain myself to people who are just going to misunderstand me anyway because they're choosing to misunderstand.  Selective listening - selective understanding.  We see things the way we want to see them, take what we want to take.

And we judge, we're always judging.  I'm always judging, always fearing others judging me.  And I'm always afraid of change, of letting others change me, of changing for others.  There's this thing (there's always a thing, isn't there?) about being yourself, about being yourself no matter what others say or do or want.  But what if (and there's always a what if) I don't know who I am?  We go on journeys to find ourselves - there are books about it -

God.  There are books about it.  I think I know so much, don't I, because I've read about it.  Life's going to kick my ass - it has already.  And it's not going to stop.  I live in this bubble of self-pity and bottomless wallets and oblivion.

What's that thing that they say?  Shit happens.  Life sucks.  Let me get out my hamburger phone and pretend I'm Juno and maybe things will turn out alright before the screen goes black and the credits role.  What the hell am I saying?  What am I doing anymore?

All this time I've been misled

All this time I've been misled

Every time I get my hair cut I think it's going to be some huge transition, some major step toward breaking down this wall that I know I've been hiding behind since 8th grade, maybe before then.  I always feel like my hair's this shield, that I'm hiding behind it, that if I cut it off things will just suddenly change.  But of course that's ridiculous.  My hair isn't a shield or a wall or a safety blanket - it's just a pain in the ass.  And it's not even that long.

I'm getting my hair cut tomorrow, and I know that it isn't going to do anything for my self-confidence.  But every few months I get this itchy feeling, when my hair's too long and the ends are split and I'm just ready for a change.  So goodbye, dream of gorgeous long braid-able hippie hair.  You're not even real, anyway.  Celebrities only achieve you with hair extensions and hours with stylists and lots and lots of curling irons and blow dryers.  Hair like that in real life is not possible.  At least not for people with Jewish genes and little patience and hair that reacts negatively to humidity.

And again, I have this horrible tendency to overreact.  I'm only cutting four or five inches.  It'll grow back.  I really need to get rid of this aversion to change - maybe it's part of the wall, the Franklin the Turtle shell I've been living in for a while now.  Yet I feel like changing my blog layout again.  I'm one big ridiculous contradiction, aren't I?

But I look around me and I see it isn't so

But I look around me and I see it isn't so

These two are my favorite right now.

But these two are a close second.

Sometimes I really wish high school was the way it was on tv, with gorgeous hair all the time and no actual classes and love at first sight.  But then I remember how it ends, and that it has to end - on tv, everything has to end.  I guess high school ends too, and life, but I'm sappy enough, stupid enough maybe, to believe that love doesn't end.  We all want to believe that, don't we?  That's why there are so many songs and movies and books and folk tales that tell of love - and that's why I believe in it, maybe - because someone at some point had to be feeling something strong enough for them to right it down or put it to a melody or tell someone else about it.     

I'm a sucker for romance, for those cheap badly-written novels, for movies with trite dialogue and stereotypical characters.  But I don't think there's anything wrong with that, because I don't think it's all a fantasy.

Jeez.  When did I become so stereotypically teenager-y and melodramatic?

On my way back home

On my way back home

Here's a recap of last night:  went to bed at midnight, woke up at 2, got out of bed at 3, went back to bed, read for an hour, finally got up at 4 am, went to the airport, went out to breakfast with mom at 6, went back to bed at 6:30 and slept till noon. 

Tonight's going to be the same, I can feel it.  I can't force myself to go to bed because I don't have anything to do tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after.  That's my least favorite part of summer, all this sitting around, acting like a vegetable.  All I did today after I woke up at noon was drive my mom on all her errands.  At least driving's getting easier.  But changing lanes is beyond terrifying.

Maybe I should go to the library tomorrow, find something to read.  Then instead of watching "The OC" and "Friday Night Lights" I can read something besides The Princess Diaries and Pride and Prejudice again.  God, I'm such a sap. 

And I failed the 30 day challenge.  I'm a sap who's spending her summer rotting away and can't even finish a stupid 30 day challenge.

I pass it back to you

I pass it back to you

You know those nights when all you want to do is sleep and you know you won't be able to?
I feel like I've missed so much lately.
I'm drifting away, I can feel it.
And I don't think that there's anything I can do about it, because this was my choice.
This was all my choice.
God, I just want to go to sleep.

Lying in your attic

Lying in your attic

My unconventionally summery playlist:

1. "Madly", Tristan Prettyman
2. "Zorbing", Stornoway
3. "Mr. Therapy Man", Justin Nozuka
4. "The Man Who Can't Be Moved", The Script
5. "Straw Dog", Something Corporate
6. "Love Lost", The Temper Trap
7. "On My Way Back Home", Band of Horses
8. "August", Julia Nunes
9. "Used to Be", Beach House
10. "This Is the New Year", Ian Axel
11. "Demons", Guster
12. "Pocket Change", Josh Domigo
13. "Miss California", Jack's Mannequin
14. "(If You're Wondering If I Want You To) I Want You To", Weezer
15. "Make Me Wanna Die", The Pretty Reckless
16. "Black Tables", Other Lives
17. "The Guy That Says Goodbye to You Is Out of His Mind", Griffin House

I am so, so glad that it's finally summer, even though I spent today watching "The OC" and "Friday Night Lights" and making jewelry and spilling tomato soup on my dog.  I've made plans for Monday to watch the second installment of "The Lord of The Rings" with Alison because it's a requirement for life, or so she seems to be implying, and my sister's leaving Saturday for five days, and then when she gets back she's leaving for another three weeks, so it's going to be me and my mom most of the time, which means lots of shopping trips and driving lessons and such.

When I visited the Louvre, I saw the Winged Victory of Samothrace, and I was completely amazed at how huge it was.  I spent nearly ten minutes just walking around it, looking up at it, imagining the feat that it must have been to have carved it.  That was such an amazing feeling - feeling small and insignificant but still part of this world, part of this world and its people that but their efforts towards things that are so grand and magnificent and everlasting.

I am looking forward to the future.  I'm going to use this summer to move on, to cleanse my life of the parts of it that I don't like.  The past is past, and there's nothing I can do about it right now.  I want to be one of those that leaves something everlasting behind for the world to enjoy - an Athenian, or so they say.

I can see in your eyes everything in your eyes

I can see in your eyes everything in your eyes

Day 11 - A picture of your favorite drink

Strawberry lemonade.  Doesn't it just look summery?

Day 12 - A picture of your favorite food

I don't have one.  I really like these mushroom/cheese ravioli that my mom gets from the grocery store, and I like cheese pizza, and I like bread with butter.  Also gooey cake, which is a specific kind of cake and not just cake that is gooey.

I'm planning this summer to consist of:
- a wardrobe of dresses, little sweaters, and shorts and t-shirts
- a weekend spent at VidCon in LA
- a trip touring New England and Mid-Atlantic area colleges
- a visit with Megan
- a trip to Italy, specifically Rome, Venice, and Florence
- days spent playing with my cameras and frolicking in parks
- dying my hair, hopefully
- watching every single episode of "The OC"
- sleeping
- relaxing
- summer homework
- re-evaluating everything
- recovering and moving on.

Lie here on the floor

Lie here on the floor

Sometimes I like to pretend that I'm not a crier, that I don't cry at books and movies and songs and endings, but here I am, crying, again, proving to myself that I am the biggest hypocrite I know.  I hate change, and I want to move across the country.  I've wanted this year to be over for so long but here I am crying because I love my classes so much and I love my teachers and I love the people I've gotten to know and I don't want to start this all again.  But then again I do, so much, because this year has sucked in so many ways. 

But mostly I just hate when things have to end.

Welcome to the fallout

Welcome to the fallout

Day 10 - A picture of what you like to do

I like relaxing outside on lovely summer days and I like being stress-free and I like taking beautiful photographs and I like reading and I like wearing huge sunglasses and brightly colored shorts.  I like listening to music and getting sucked into it and I like scrolling endlessly through tumblr for hours and I like doodling in bright pens in the notebook.  I like watching my favorite movies with my favorite people and I like baking cookies and then eating them and I like going to concerts and being surrounded by people that all have the same passion.  I like making lists of thinks that I like.  I like the way the air smells when summer's coming, like sunlight and sunscreen and sea water and the shampoo I used at camp a few summers ago.  I like when time passes slowly and the days are long and enjoyable and full of new experiences and adventures and ideas and people and love.     

There's a lot that I'm still learning

There's a lot that I'm still learning

Day 09 - A picture of what you had for lunch

Cute, huh?

My friends made me cookies and bought me spontaneously bursting balloons.  It was a good day.  I never have anything to say on good days, do I?  Unless I'm making lists of things I love.  But I think I've worn that out lately. 

Okay, wait, thought - conversations that are just arguments over who's prettier are stupid.  So are arguments over who's smarter and who's taller and who's whatever.  I hate that we're so used to comparing ourselves to others constantly that it's just second nature. 

Okay, no way.  I can not think about NaNoWriMo yet.  Don't make me think about this yet, Joplin. 

Okay, I am only slightly annoyed at myself for starting three paragraphs in a row with "okay."  But it doesn't matter because this isn't a school paper and it's almost summer summer summer.

And how you always talk of catching me but never open up your hand

And how you always talk of catching me but never open up your hand

Day 08 - A picture of yourself



Super cheesy over-the-top editing.  But I like this picture.  I don't think it looks like me - but maybe like the me I want to be:  a combination of the me that loves cheesy love songs and the me that likes epic fantasy stories and the me that is a grammar Nazi and hates slang and the me that wants to live in France and parler francais toujours.  I feel like all those parts of me are separated - like I can't be all of them at once.  Maybe that's just part of growing up, growing into yourself, or finding yourself and figuring out who you are.

Now I need to go wash my good gladiators because I wore them in the dirt the other day and they feel gross and I want to wear them tomorrow possibly, and I need to pack all my history books into a bag so I can turn them in and be rid of them tomorrow (that is, if I can lift it).  And then I need to go to bed and attempt to fall asleep at a decent hour so I can survive this hell of a week.  


Almost summer almost summer almost summer summer summer.  I can do this.  

You look like the songs that I've heard my whole life coming true

You look like the songs that I've heard my whole life coming true

Day 07 - A picture that makes you cry

I honestly can't think of anything.  But I'm feeling listy tonight, so here is a list of things that do make me cry:

1. Anything that Nicholas Sparks has created
2. Lost friendships
3. December 6, 1941
4. Leaving
5. The Vietnam War
6. The series finales of "The OC" and "Gilmore Girls"
7. "Where the Red Fern Grows"
8. Late nights and songs by Greg Holden
9. "Finding Neverland"
10. Girls who congregate on the internet (specifically tumblr) to discuss their goals of being skinny

I'm in such a strange melancholy yet joyful mood right now.  Here's a list of things that I love:

1. Peter Pan
2. Dreams, knowledge, reality and surreality and unreality
3. The past, the present, the future
4. Goals for the future
5. The sound of the French language
6. Beautiful photographs
7. Monet's haystacks
8. Doctor Who
9. Pictures of Miley and Liam
10. When someone who literally stole my crayons in the second grade adds me on facebook... now do I accept?

She rolls the window down and she talks over the sound of the cars that pass us by

She rolls the window down and she talks over the sound of the cars that pass us by

Day 06 - A picture that inspires you

I guess words inspire me more than pictures. Do with that what you will. Do with it all what you will. What a strange phrase.

It's almost over.  I've never been so excited for something to end. Actually, that's a lie.  Or rather, an untruth.  An exaggeration.  A hyperbole.  If I were religious then I would say that dishonesty is a sin.  It's at least a faulty character trait and a disease.  Like leprosy.

I hope you're happy bathing in your lies and your untruths.   

Now I think we're taking this too far

Now I think we're taking this too far

Day 04 - A picture of where you went today

This is yesterday.  I went to school.  It was an absolutely atrocious day.  See yesterday's post for more (very vague and unclear and emotional) information. 

Day 05 - A picture of your morning

This morning I woke up, got dressed, ate breakfast, straightened my hair and brushed my teeth and etc. and then I went to school.  It was not as much of an atrocious day as yesterday was but it was still not spectacular.  I haven't had a spectacular day in a while.  Thank God school's almost out.  Only five more days.   

I finished the essays. I feel so accomplished and weirdly proud of my crappy essays and all that they put me through.  I just hope we're not doing stupid peer grading or anything.  I'll have to get out of that somehow.

Weekend weekend weekend Friday Friday Friday.  Maybe if I repeat it enough it'll get here faster.  Time is subjective, right?   

I'm waiting for the enemy

I'm waiting for the enemy

I don't know how to put this into words, this feeling of absolute dread and terror and unhappiness and hatred and confusion and anger and bitterness and embarrassment and sadness and hurt.  I don't believe in best friends but all I want right now is someone to tell all of this to, someone who's not going to judge me or expect better from me or doubt me or question me or tell me that I'm wrong or say that everything's going to be okay.  I just don't know what to do any more, what to say, how to make this better.  I don't want to excuse myself anymore.  I don't want to say oh I'm just being over-dramatic, oh don't bother with me.  I don't want to deny myself what I want because that makes other people feel better.

I don't believe in best friends.  Because people judge you and people are opinionated and people can't just shut up and listen to what someone else has to say.  And I focus on faults and I mess things up and I can't keep good things going for long enough.  But you can make me laugh and with you none of the crap matters and thank you for that.  You don't know about this, about any of this - although I think you know more than you let on - and that's the way I like it.  You can't know, because I'm not comfortable.  Not in this house or in these clothes or in this school or with these friends.  Not even with you.  I wish you could fix that.  I wish someone, anyone can fix that.      

I want to get in a hot air balloon and fly away, up and away, far away from here and all this gossip and anger and frustration and talk of the future.  What about now?  What about the way I feel right now?  I guess it doesn't matter since I can't even describe it to myself.

Saying goodbye, this time, the same old story

Saying goodbye, this time, the same old story

Day 03 - A picture of what you did today

I brought my camera with my to school today in the hopes that something exciting would happen and then I would be ready to take a picture of it.  And then when something exciting finally did happen, I took my camera out of my bag, turned it on, and was informed by little tiny words on the little tiny screen that I needed to change the battery pack.  

In art history we made this giant clay sculpture out of clay heads and it was really cool because this kids in my class are fricking amazing artists and my camera died and then the sculpture was squished into clay mush again.  Welcome to my life.  Fail day 03.

I cannot do these essays.  I can't do them.  And why the eff am I listening to Fall Out Boy right now?  Life has this way of giving me a bucketful of crap just as I start to think that things are getting better.  I can't wait to be out of high school.  I just want all the gossiping to stop.  And I hate that I can't talk openly about it even here because I have no idea who's reading this.  

Here's why I blog:  none of this is going to matter.  It won't matter next month or next year or 20 years from now.  Fights with friends and bad SAT scores and clay heads aren't going to matter.  But life matters.  Change matters.  I like that I'm chronicling my life - not totally openly, but nearly, nearly enough to read this and get a sense for what I thought of myself last month, last week, last night.  Diaries stress me out - but this doesn't.  This is easy, and only semi-permanent.  But it's my life, and here it is.

I can say this:  "if you don't like what you're reading, don't read anymore."  But isn't that assumed?  Here's an extreme thought:  if you don't like what you're reading, what I'm thinking, who I am, then why are you hanging around anyway?  

That didn't make any sense.  That made absolutely no sense at all.  But life doesn't make sense.  Like really doesn't make sense right now, as I'm feeling overwhelmed with school and college and the future and as my friends are bickering and putting each other in the middle and as I can feel myself growing apart from them, from all of them, and farther into this hole that I've pulled myself into.  I can't seem to put that into words - but I feel like I'm drawing into myself, away from people who could hurt me.  After eighth grade (God, this sounds so shallow), I told myself that I wouldn't let anyone hurt me like that again, that I would only be friends with people who wouldn't hurt me.  And look where I ended up.  Too sensitive.  Too damn sensitive.  

I can hear my sister downstairs laughing loudly as she watches the season finale of "Glee."  But I just can't deal with that tonight.  I'm up here wallowing in self-pity and homework and wondering how I've gotten to this point where I feel like I can't trust anyone but the one person who I probably shouldn't be able to trust at all.  How did I get here?  Isn't that a line in a song?  How did I end up here?  

How did I end up here?

The more I step into the sun the more I step out of the light

The more I step into the sun the more I step out of the light

Day 02 - A picture of what you wore today

I probably should have taken this picture this morning when I still looked decent.  Also, it's upside down.  You know what - deal with it.

I have to answer the UC essay prompts for my post-secondary project.  There is nothing more I would like to do less than answer those prompts. I have this complete inability to talk about myself in a manner that makes me look good, which makes no sense, actually, considering how much time I spend blogging about myself.  But I just hate... I don't know.  But I don't wan to do them.  And since I don't want to do them, I'm going to procrastinate them to Thursday night and then do a crappy job and disappoint myself.  Lather, rinse, repeat.

She wrote me a letter as we passed through Rockford
She said she won't forget
Maybe I do maybe I don't
But I know I haven't yet
Said here I am
Oh here I am
Well I woke up in a car
I traced away the fog so I could see the Mississippi on its knees
I've never been so lost
I've never felt so much at home
Please write my folks and throw away my keys
I woke up in a car.

I like that song quite a bit.       

And so she starts to wander

And so she starts to wander

Day 01 - A picture of yourself

This challenge thing is going to frustrate me all month long; I can tell already.  It's so nonspecific.  A picture of me today?  My favorite picture of me?  Some random picture of me from whenever?  My choice, then.

Here's me petting a dog in a store in France.  I don't like vertical pictures very much.  But I didn't take it so I can't complain.  It also looks like it's been cropped.   

 

Okay, why do I take stuff like this on?  I hate pictures of myself.  These next few weeks need to be over already.  I left myself so much work to do this week, work that I could have done last weekend or this weekend and didn't.  I thought things were supposed to be easier now that AP tests are over.  Liars.  Or wishful thinkers.  


Gah this post sucks.

Everything we know fades to black

Everything we know fades to black

I've never done one of these before.  I'll start tomorrow.

What happens if I miss a day?

It looks very narcissistic... but I guess blogging is in general.

Also - double post.  But I missed some days recently, so I'm letting it slide.

Day 01 - A picture of yourself

Day 02 - A picture of what you wore today

Day 03 - A picture of what you did today
Day 04 - A picture of where you went today
Day 05 - A picture of your morning
Day 06 - A picture that inspires you
Day 07 - A picture that makes you cry
Day 08 - A picture of yourself
Day 09 - A picture of what you had for lunch
Day 10 - A picture of what you like to do
Day 11 - A picture of your favorite drink
Day 12 - A picture of your favorite food
Day 13 - A picture of your friends
Day 14 - A picture of your favorite teacher.
Day 15 - A picture of yourself
Day 16 - A picture of your dream cell phone
Day 17 - A picture of your mp3 player
Day 18 - A picture of your room
Day 19 - A picture of your favorite musical instrument(s)
Day 20 - A picture of where you want to honeymoon
Day 21 - A picture that makes you think of your loved one
Day 22 - A picture of yourself
Day 23 - A picture that describes your life
Day 24 - A picture of what you did today
Day 25 - A picture that you edited
Day 26 - A picture that makes you angry
Day 27 - A picture of you more than 10 years ago
Day 28 - A picture of what you wore today
Day 29 - A picture of yourself
Day 30 - A picture of you and your best friend

Do you know that your love is the sweetest sun

Do you know that your love is the sweetest sun

I'm the only one still awake.  It's a bit strange and a bit creepy, but also sort of peaceful.  Quiet, aside from my iTunes playing.  I always feel a bit unsettled, though, when I don't say goodnight to my mom.

I took the SAT this morning.  It was long and boring and I really hope I did better this time.  Then I filmed with my group for history until 5:30, just sort of sat and tried not to fall asleep for an hour, then ate dinner.  And then we watched "Doctor Who", which was delightful as always.  After that I started "Peter Pan" but I turned it off at 9 with the plan of coming upstairs to shower and go to bed early since I have to get up early again tomorrow.  Yet here I am, dreaming of Neverland and scanning the depths of the internet for pictures of my favorite scenes.

"You offend reason, sir.
I should like to offend it with you."  

"Forget them, Wendy. Forget them all. Come with me where you'll never, never have to worry about grown up things again."
"Never is an awfully long time."

God, I had such a huge crush on Jeremy Sumpter.  I used to have him as the desktop background on my computer.  Maybe I should go back to that.  I think it's time for a change. 

I swear it's not me, it's just someone I used to know

I swear it's not me, it's just someone I used to know

Today was completely stressful and frustrating and sixth period always has this way of putting me in such a bad mood that I get in a fight with my mom on the way home  from school and don't speak to her for an hour.  At least I finished the script for our history video; now I'm just panicking that it's not long enough.  But I can't wait for these next few weeks to be over.  All these last-minute projects are only creating added stress.  And I'm taking the SAT tomorrow.  Yippee.  I should go to bed soon.

But first:  can someone please explain to me the difference between "what the fuck" and "what the actual fuck"?  This is completely unnecessary added emphasis.  I absolutely hate modern slang.  I hate it.  And I hate how easy it is for us to rewrite the dictionary like it's nothing at all.  Words are precious.

Okay, that made no sense.  I am so tired, and there are pieces of really brown apple on my desk from my morning snack that I never ate.  Dear future self:  do not attempt to write movie scripts because you suck.  Also, I hope you didn't fail the SAT and got into a good college and didn't totally hate it and drop out like you did with OCHSA cause that would suck.  Also, you should go to bed early, not just plan on going to bed early and then not actually do it.     

As I'm cutting through you track by track

As I'm cutting through you track by track

So lately my days have consisted of about twelve-hundred zillion mood swings combined with technological difficulties and procrastination and an overwhelming amount of paper equal in size to every piece of homework I've completed in the past nine months.  Things are feeling extremely overwhelming lately, with college research and dropping grades and sudden facebook honesty.  Did you know my sister reads MLIA?  I had no idea my sister reads MLIA.  I also had no idea she was building a roller coaster in science class.  She lives across the hall from me and I have to find out what's going on in her life through reading her blog.

Reading her blog.  Is this girl me?  I was trying to explain this to my mom the other day and she thought I was offended that my sister was copying me.  But I don't really think that's what's going on.  I think.  Although she has been dressing like me lately...

I have no idea where this is going.  I swear this morning I was walking along between first and second periods - that's when I get all my best pensive thinking done, then or between third and fourth periods -  and I can't even continue this sentence because it just occurred to me that the phrase "pensive thinking" is extremely redundant. 

I swear I am losing my mind.  I say "I swear" too much.  I'm taking the SAT on Saturday.  Today I made a rose out of duck tape.  I gave my personalized copy of Looking for Alaska to Michael to read and I'm scared for its life.  My nail polish is chipped and it's driving me crazy. 

Oh, wait.  I was going to blog about how horrible the Vietnam War was.  Too late now.  I guess that's kind of an overused topic anyway.  
 

It seems to me to be a sign

It seems to me to be a sign

Conversation with my father
Dad:  What are you doing?
Me:  Putting away my lunch.
Dad:  Putting away your uneaten lunch?
Me:  I did eat!  I ate my sandwich and four stale teddy grahams!
Dad:  I just don't know how you get through the day.
Me:  I eat!
Dad:  Eat what?
Me:  Food!  I don't like food, okay?
Dad:  What, do you have some kind of - disorder?
Me:  No, I just don't like food.
Dad:  Maybe you just haven't eaten food you like yet.
Me:  Are you serious?
Dad (as I'm walking away):  Should we find some?

I'm going to fail my physics test tomorrow.  Ready to phail physics... I think I saw that in someone's facebook status a few weeks back.  And I'm about to fail my goal to have four posts in a row that are only text, because I really want to post this picture.

It's ugly and crappy and I have no artistic talent whatsoever, but there's still something satisfying about making something and bringing it home and showing it to your parents and saying, "look what I made."  I guess that's something we probably feel a lot in elementary school, when we go to art class every week and make little pots and wire figures and copies of Van Gogh's paintings (using pastels, of course).  NeedsANickname and I had a brief two-minute conversation today about how we've realized this year that art is a lot harder than it looks... I've come to admire artists so much more than I used to.  Art is natural talent, but it's also self-confidence and vulnerability and emotion and gut feelings.  Maybe I just think too much to be good at it.  But I do like having paint on my hands.   

I've completely ripped my cuticles apart, to the point where they feel rough and my fingers are swollen.  I hate that I can't quit.  I'm usually so good at quitting... quitting OCHSA and quitting stories and quitting Girl Scouts and quitting friendships.  And when it really matters, I can't just stop.  And college is really freaking me out right now - even though it's still a year away.  But it just occurred to me that when I'm going to be packing up to move across the country (or up north or wherever) to room with a stranger and go to big scary classes, so are zillions of other people.  That makes me feel a little bit better.  I hate that "everyone else is doing it too" makes me feel better.   

I swear sometimes things change colors right in front of my eyes.  Or maybe just when I blink.  We're all Weeping Angels, aren't we?  Stabbing each other in the back when we're not looking, assuming innocent poses when we're being watched. 

Gah.  I stress myself out.

The early morning, the city breaks

The early morning, the city breaks

I like the way a notebook looks when it's filled with scribbly handwriting, when the pages are curling and wrinkled.  And in the same fashion, I like when my blog is filled with text, no pictures, just text posts.  It's hard to write four completely-text posts in a row, though, when I have absolutely nothing to say.

I like songs entitled "you and I" and "you and me" and the like.  I like how stop signs are easily identified from the back.  I like Matt Smith and the whole Eleven cast and usually people named Matt in general.  I like the last few weeks of school, when I'm leaving in the morning and I can smell summer, and when it's warm enough to wear flip-flops (but never when driving) and nearly warm enough for shorts.

I like the look of Harry Potter books all lined up on my bookshelf, and the lightening of my school bag as I clear out the papers that I don't need anymore.  I like Hilary Duff cds, and actual physical cds in actual plastic cases.

I like my little sister and her curly hair, and I like when I'm in a good mood and can actually think of this many things that I like and can write them all down without criticizing myself for being so cliche and for repeating "I like" so many times.