I remember stormy weather the way the sky looks when it's cold

I remember stormy weather the way the sky looks when it's cold

"... I believe that if you can lie about something little, you can lie about something big."
"... I don't want to spend my life wallowing in self-pity and I don't want to spend my life being insecure."
"I feel like there are all these rules that have been set up by society - and I find it really fun to break all of them."
"Life doesn't have to be cookie-cutter perfect, neither does your style, your makeup, your clothes - nothing has to be 'perfect.' ... I really would love if what I'm doing was ... also more of a youth movement for really accepting who you are unapologetically and really loving yourself for every imperfection."

Apparently Ke$ha and I have the same philosophy.  But she's better at upholding it.

And all the things that I misread

And all the things that I misread

I guess the appeal of a giant sweater, a really huge sweater with big sleeves and a long hem, is that I can hide in it, feel like a bag lady or an Olsen twin, and actually dress how I feel.  I've been in a ratty-hair-combat-boot-really-fricking-giant-sweater sort of mood lately, but as I have none of the above, I've been wearing my normal clothes and watching a lot of "Veronica Mars" and contemplating the destruction and rebuilding of a fictional romance in nearly 30,000 additional words.

I want college to be this place where I can wear giant sweaters and no one judges me and I can follow celebrity gossip and read the classics and no one judges me.  I'm trying to build up this immunity to what other people think of me.  I don't want to get to a point where I'm basing what I do on the wills of other people so much so that I don't know who I am anymore.  But as for right now - I guess the reason that there are so many high school movies is that we can't stop going back over this time in our lives when everything is so confusing and so upside-down and so much like every song that's ever been written.   

Along time ago we used to be friends but I haven't thought of you lately at all

Along time ago we used to be friends but I haven't thought of you lately at all

I am having one of those pitiful emo poetry sort of days, where I can't decide if what I hate most is being a girl, being a high school student, or being a teenager in general.  It's probably a combination of all three, which is another thing that I hate, so add that to the list.  I do not want to go to school tomorrow.  Or ever again.  Can I live in a tv show?  Life in 42-minute segments.

 

It's been the same, same and the story's getting old

It's been the same, same and the story's getting old

Matilda was one of my childhood role models because (a) she loved books, (b) she had magical powers, (c) she wore hair bows, and (d) she did whatever the hell she wanted even though the evil principal locked her in a dark closet full of pointy things.  I really wish I had the confidence to wear hair bows.  But I have this fear, totally irrational and ridiculous, of anything that makes me seem like younger.  I always feel more immature than everyone around me, uglier, et cetera.  But I'm sure Matilda wouldn't.  I guess I'm adding her to my list of people to channel in my attempts to overcome my introvertedness, despite that I think that changing your personality type is totally impossible.       

So people I'm channeling:  Matilda, Miley Cyrus, Rachel Bilson, hayleyghoover, Nikita, Wendy the Good Witch, et cetera.  I don't want to be someone else exactly, but I want to be a different version of myself.  A mix of my current outer self and my inner self, and a mix of what I envy in others.  I want to be a cocktail of a person, unpredictable but reliable and crazy but in a good way, et cetera.   

I was drowning there at best

I was drowning there at best

Tonight I'm feeling antsy and restless in that way that I often feel when there's a stack of college catalogs on my desk and when what I've been writing seems sub-par and when my friends feel very, very, very far away.  These are Stalinger days, that's what I'll call them, days when the only thing to do is run away from Facebook and write, write, write until everything is at its worst.  These are days when teen magazines make me feel fat and the talent of others makes me feel incompetent and I criticize myself for being too critical of myself.

These are days when sleep is far away, always far away, and it all seems surreal.   

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.

I miss you, I'm going back home to the West Coast

I miss you, I'm going back home to the West Coast

"What a dreadful day."
-- Michael Kang

I had a very strange dream last night.
I have seven farmville requests right now, and I'm ignoring them for the time being.
The nail polish on my left thumbnail is chipped and it's really bugging me.  A lot. 
I should be reading Hamlet right now.
I hate when teachers call on me in class.  That happened twice today.  But at least I knew that Joe DiMaggio was a baseball player.
The things that people become fans of on facebook make me laugh.
Do you ever use the shift key on the right side of the keyboard? 
Tomorrow's Friday, thank God.
I really need to be reading Hamlet right now.

Give me a minute while I fiddle with my hair

Give me a minute while I fiddle with my hair

It's Tuesday, but it feels like Monday.  Three-day weekends always get me all mixed up.

I took the curlers out of my hair this morning and I looked like Little Bo Peep after a car accident.  But then my lovely momsy fixed it with a zillion hair clips and a curling iron and all was well.  Sort of. Today was not the best day.  I don't like changing seats in class.  I don't like change period, really.  And I don't like walking around in the rain.  I don't like lots of things.  Here I am being negative again.   

New code names to please Roger Rabbit, who is bugging me about them.  (Although really I shouldn't do things to please Roger.  But code names are fun.)

This morning Beyonce told me that I exaggerate too much.  And maybe I do.  I really didn't look like Little Bo Peep after a car accident this morning, and I really didn't need to use a zillion hair clips, and of course I'm not as hateful or as unhappy as I look on paper (or onscreen).  (At least I hope I'm not.)  And for some reason this led me into thinking about how petty we are, thinking that the goings-on in our lives are the most important things in the world.  But then, isn't everyone like that?  Even the heads of countries, arguing with each other over everything, are like little 6th grade girls who are best friends one minute and can't stand each other the next.  It's all just on a grander scale.  But when you really think about it - no one cares what you're doing except for you and the circle of people around you, and that's sort of true with everything.  (But we do care about war because even if it's occurring a world away, people are dying, and that affects us.)

My printer isn't working.  I really don't want to crawl behind my desk to unplug it, but it appears that that needs to be done.  Grr.  Why can't the thing just work?  I only need to print one sheet of paper!  And it's in color.  It's not even in black, which the stupid thing is always telling me it's running out of.  Ugh.  

Awkward conversation(s) of the day
Me:  Sharon made you this cd but she's making me give it to you.
HHH:  Thank you.  Is she here today?
Me:  Yeah...
HHH:  Oh this is my friend's band!  Say hi to your mom!
Me:  ...

Gosling: So Natasha, how's French?
Me: It's fine...  Why?
Gosling:  Just trying to make small talk.
Me:  Oh...kay.

What would you do if I wrote you a song

What would you do if I wrote you a song

Recent conversation [that occurs almost daily]
My little sister: Why are you so short?
Me: Why are you so tall?

Blogging three nights in a row. Wait, what? Did I join in on one of those blog-every-day adventures without knowing it?

I had no homework tonight. Well, not exactly. I had no homework that's due tomorrow. I have stuff due Tuesday that I should be working on... but I'm not. You know how that goes. I've just been looking up the words from City of God that I don't know and trying not to fall asleep while doing drivers' ed. I really hate drivers' ed. And also I should study French verbs for my quiz tomorrow.

Tomorrow's Friday. Homework weekend! Yup. And bought the VidCon tickets! Click here for a visual representation of my excitement level. In other news.... I have no other news. Possibly time for a random list.

THINGS I THINK AT LEAST ONCE A DAY
(aka further proof that I am crazy)

1. I have no idea what you are saying. Why are you still talking? Why does your hair stick up like that? Is my hair sticking up?
2. I wish I were Emma Watson. I wish Emma Watson was my best friend.
3. How many more minutes until the bell rings? I hate school.
4. Why am I so socially awkward?
5. I want to be a red head.

This post is definitely deserving of both the tags "blah" and "bleh."

Oh, one last thought. Since when is it socially acceptable for junior girls to date sophomore boys? Aren't girls supposed to date older because guys are less mature than girls? And I just think it's sort of a strange thing - especially since a sophomore I know is dating a freshman girl. He could conceivably date a junior next - that's such a difference in intelligence level and maturity and vocabulary strength.

Also, I don't believe that good ideas can come from dreams. That's way too hokey.

How ridiculous

How ridiculous

And once again, it's Sunday night and instead of reading like I'm supposed to be, I'm sitting here in front of my computer stalking other people's formal pictures on facebook and pretending I don't need to be doing something else. I hate how school rules my life. And I hate knowing that school is going to rule my life for at least another five years. But at least I'll have a drivers license for most of those, hopefully.

All this looking at formal pictures just makes me want to buy a formal dress. I don't even want to go to formal really, I just want to wear the dress. How ridiculous and dumb is that? I've looked at so many pictures that I'm not in that I've noticed duplicate dresses. Oh god.

Okay, enough of this. I need to get off of my stupid computer and read my book for English class so I can write the 6-12 page paper and I need to edit Megan's NaNoWriMo like I told her I would weeks ago and I need to stop biting my nails and I need to stop needing so much. Maybe I should have someone steel my facebook password so I can't go on for a week. Oh my god, I can't even comprehend not having facebook for a week. What is wrong with me?

Favorite picture from not going to formal last night.

I miss summer. And winter break. I miss being able to stay up late on Sunday nights because I don't have to wake up early the next day to go to school. I miss not having school, period.

In which I say several stupid things

In which I say several stupid things

So it turns out I have a tendency to overreact. Also, events this week have revealed that I have a tendency to pass on everything that anyone tells me, as well as a tendency to not do my reading for English when I know I can get away with not doing it. I've developed a sure-fire solution that can fix all of these problems, though: NO ONE TELL ME ANYTHING EVER AGAIN. (And as for the English homework... can I start my resolutions on February 1?) No more making things that aren't my things into my things.

I got my hair cut today. Really short layers again. And it's straight right now, which feels really strange to me - it's been a long time since I straightened my hair. And somehow I now have weird blonde-red-various-shades-of-brown streaks. Hair dye fading? I hope.

I want to go to formal. God, I feel stupid just saying that. But it's sort of going to suck on Sunday when everybody's putting up their formal pictures on facebook and they're all smiling and I'm going to be thinking, why wasn't I there? I hate that stupid standard that says that you have to have a date to go to the dance. Next year, I'm going. And I'm making Ali and Dynah and Briana go too. Yep.

But oh hey! It's the weekend. Homework and homework and homework and then pictures and dinner with my friends who are going to formal tomorrow. Oh, the awkwardness. And Sunday, more homework. And then Monday. Lather, rinse, repeat x2, finalsweekohmygod! School ruins all the fun.