Who's the boy you like the most

Who's the boy you like the most

I've just finished season 4 of "Psych" and there's this re-occuring serial killer and season 3 ended with an episode about the serial killer, and so season 4 does as well, and so does season 5.  But I haven't watched season 5 yet, and so they haven't caught the Yin to the Yang and so I'm sitting here feeling like I'm being watched, because this is how I always feel after I watch something creepy.  This is the feeling that keeps me up at night.  And the only way I've figured out how to overcome it is to stay up so late that I get a headache and my eyes hurt and I practically fall asleep sitting up.

So really I should watch a stupid romcom on Netflix and put on my pajamas and I'm going to go do that.  Right after I find something to title this post with.  And then maybe later when I can't sleep I'll write down all my thoughts on "Never Let Me Go" and the television archetype relationship of two characters who are perfect for each other but can't be together because of a, b, and c, and also I might make a list of all the books I want to read before I leave for school.

We are fated to pretend

We are fated to pretend

Tonight I saw "Monte Carlo" with Gabi and we had Panera for dinner.  On Thursday I had breakfast with Simone and Taylor.  But besides that I've been to Target four times in the last four days.  I had dinner out with my parents once and lunch twice and I've been watching a lot of "Psych" and not really doing anything at all.  Tomorrow is the 4th of July and I (surprise) don't have any plans.  I'll probably sit in the bathtub with Gracie like I did last night, when somebody misread their calendar and decided it would be a good time to launch off fireworks and freak my dog out.

I've been writing a bit and sleeping a lot and that's what summer's supposed to be about, right?  Somehow I feel like I should be having greater adventures than the ones I'm having.  NKOTBSB concert on Wednesday, San Francisco on Thursday for the Picasso exhibit and the Gertrude Stein collection.

There's a key to your heart, no one's found it yet

There's a key to your heart, no one's found it yet

Right now I am sitting at my desk listening to the new Selena Gomez album, which isn't totally horrible, and not really doing anything besides that, which is fine, I guess.  Tomorrow I'm going to the doctor so he can sign my health form so I can go to college, and I'm getting my hair cut, dyed back to its natural color hopefully and maybe cut more than half an inch, if I'm annoyed with it enough tomorrow morning.  Today my mom and I went to Target and had lunch at Wahoo's Fish Tacos and went to Trader Joe's and the bookstore.  I finally finished "The Vampire Diaries" and I guess I should be glad that the most traumatic thing that's happened to me is something that I've watched on television.

And at once I knew I was not magnificent

And at once I knew I was not magnificent

I'm sitting here watching "Bones" because I finished season 4 at approximately 10:10 pm and the episode ended with Booth waking up from his coma and going, "who are you?" and so I asked myself, "should I watch another episode or go to bed?" and I decided I wanted to watch another episode.  Only now they've just found like eight bodies underneath a fountain based on the word of a psychic and I'm thinking serial killer and praying that it's not a serial killer because those are the ones that keep me up all night.

Today I got up too early to say au revoir to Gilly before she left for camp, and then I went out to lunch with my mom and had a strawberry banana crepe with caramel sauce.  Then we came home and cleaned my room and my mom magically made all of my new books fit on my bookshelf, and after dinner I washed my car.  Tomorrow I'm going to the movies with Ellie and on Friday I plan to work on moving my files to my new computer and I need to scan some stuff and work on the graduation collages.  

I am so ready for Booth to admit that he's in love with Bones.

I guess we're all one phone call from our knees

I guess we're all one phone call from our knees

Today I went to lunch and the bookstore and Staples with my family, not in that order.  Then on the way home my dad suddenly decided that he needed to go to the pool store, so my mom and my sister and I sat in the car for fifteen minutes while he bought a net named after a stingray.  Then we came home and I continued to do what I've been doing for the majority of this weekend, which is watch "Bones," to which I am completely addicted and cannot stop thinking about and as a result of that, cannot sleep at night.  Also this weekend I filled out some of my college paperwork, which is still not done and is due Tuesday at midnight.  Tomorrow I'm going to Knott's and then Tuesday is my birthday and also graduation which somehow comes second to my birthday in my mind even though I'm not doing anything for my birthday besides graduating so it's really not significant at all. 

I feel like it's summer, in the sense that I've done pretty much nothing all weekend and am up late (or at least what's late for me), but it's been gloomy out and I miss the sun and what I really want for my birthday is for the sun to come out and remind me that I can stop and breathe.

And you rip out all I had just to say that you won

And you rip out all I had just to say that you won

I should be reading a book or doing homework or deciding where I'm going to college or something but instead I spent the early part of this evening watching the news and Anderson Cooper and Bill Maher and listening to sixty seconds of Obama's soothing voice and I really do think that no matter what you think about his politics, you have to admit that he has a wonderful voice.  Yesterday it rained for about five minutes and then the sun came out and shined down between the clouds and it was all very surreal and that's how I've been feeling lately, odd and like I'm stuck in this in-between zone between what's happened and what's coming. 

I've been listening to boy bands a lot and writing in my dream journal and apparently not using commas, and I've been sitting quietly in English class and listening to boys talk crap about women and I haven't been saying anything about it because I almost feel like I'm leaving this school and these people in two months anyway and they don't care what I have to say so it doesn't really matter.   

Now I think maybe I'll go read and go to bed and maybe get ten hours of sleep and then record all my dreams in the morning.

Sigh no more no more

Sigh no more no more

I did very little of anything this weekend, and I slept twelve hours last night and sweat out a fever and I feel really good right now and I'm in a really good mood and there's school tomorrow so I know it won't last but do you ever wish that you could pause time and make a moment last forever?  Not this moment, necessarily, this moment where I'm sitting in my pajamas listening to my fingers hitting the keys thinking that I should go to bed early and read for a while, but a moment from Friday night or from yesterday when I was sick and watching "The Vampire Diaries" and things were perfect because that's all there was.  I don't know where I'm going next year but I think that's okay because for some reason short-term plans are satisyfing enough for right now. 

That's really all I have to say right now.  What happened to my long endless rambling grammar-less blog posts that spun into baseless musings on God-only-knows-what? 

I will write you a lullaby

I will write you a lullaby

In the last week I achieved an A in math and went through my magazine collection, and I can't decide which of those is a bigger accomplishment. I bought new boots and I love them, and I cleaned my room, and I have three new teachers this semester, and I saw "Hair" last weekend, and basically I've been all over the place.  I've been watching coverage of the situation in Egypt on the news and I've been watching people more than I usually do, maybe, and I'm trying so hard to not stereotype the stoner kid in my gov class as a stoner because there's got to be more to him than that.  I had to write down three things about myself today and it was surprisingly difficult, because even though there's so much of me in my head and in my notebooks and on the walls of my room, it's so hard to slim it down into sentences, straight facts, and write it on an index card. 

"Pretty Little Liars" annoys me because I think teachers are teachers and should be teachers, and I'm cold cold cold cold cold, and tonight I took a ten-minute nap on the sofa before dinner and I haven't been sleeping at night because I've been watching too many episodes of "Bones" lately.  I should go to sleep right now but I'm nearly done with Never Let Me Go and so I'd like to finish it tonight even though I'm feeling a bit disappointed with it, or at least with the talk that I heard about it because as of yet it hasn't broken my heart.  I want it to.  I haven't read a good book in such a long time.  Maybe this weekend I'll go to the bookstore and read for hours. 

In some forgotten space where the envy and the hate swim around in figure eights

In some forgotten space where the envy and the hate swim around in figure eights

I think I'm getting sick and I feel absolutely dreadful, which I just wrote in a British accent, in case you couldn't tale.  I'm done with gen 1 of "Skins" and it's breaking my heart because Cassie ran away to New York and Chris' dad won't let his friends come to the funeral but they crashed it and Sid followed Cass to New York and isn't it funny that two of my favorite characters ever are named Sidney?

I just rewatched the finale of "The OC" and it made me so happy even though I feel ridiculous, and it made me sad too but not as sad as "Skins" did, and tomorrow I'm painting my nails and getting my hair cut and hopefully going to formal, unless I wake up feeling like I'm dying, but I really hope that doesn't happen because I really love my dress.  Today I drove home alone and sang along to "Who Owns My Heart", which my sister doesn't let me do because she hates Miley, which I think is due more to a lack of exposure than actual hate, which bothers me because I think you have to experience something to really have an opinion about it.  But anyhow it made me happy despite feeling gross and all this stupid stress and the apps I still have to finish and everything else. I hate when people ask me to defend the things that make me happy.   

I should go to sleep now because I don't think I've made any sense and I all I've done is fall in love with Sidneys and use a lot of commas.  I do like commas but only sometimes not always.

Maybe you had her, maybe you lost her to another

Maybe you had her, maybe you lost her to another

There's a guy at school who looks exactly like Sid, beanie and squarish nerdy glasses and ironic t-shirts, only he's a redhead.  But he's still Sid to me and every time I see him I can't help but wonder what he's thinking, and I can't help but romanticize it and think that he's thinking wonderful thoughts.  I have this habit of rooting for the underdogs and the quiet ones, always, because they're the ones that you can't ever read, the ones that are probably thinking the most amazing things that the rest of us could never even understand.  A part of me wishes I knew Redheaded Sid, so I could find out what's inside his head, but then there's a part of me that likes that I'll probably never know him, because he might cuss a lot at inappropriate times or he might hate the Beatles or he might smoke, or whatever.  He might be someone not at all like who I imagine him to be.

Tomorrow is Wednesday, which is halfway through the first week of break.  I'm not sure of the date exactly, or how many days there are until Christmas, because I don't keep track of that and don't really care.  It's still raining and all the days look the same and I actually sort of miss the sun, but I want it to stay like this forever.

And boys soldier on

And boys soldier on

Sometimes words play themselves over and over in my head in these rhythms that I've never heard before but seem so familiar, and I can't get them out and I can't write them down because I'm not sure what they are but still I have this compulsion to write now right now and do nothing else until I've done that.  I've got dozens of blank journals and a nearly infinite supply of hard drive space but I don't have a story to tell and I think that's the biggest problem. 

The rain hasn't let up in days and right now I've got the hiccups and this evening I took a nap on the couch while my dad was watching the news, which is really just the weather report, rain rain rain, over and over again.  I've got no plans for the rest of the week so I can get everything done that I need to get done but instead all that time to do with what I wish making me feel energized I just feel sluggish.  I want to sleep, sleep, sleep, and somehow it's nearly 11 at night and I'm not sleeping and now I have this sudden longing in my stomach for "The OC." 

Ooh baby baby it's a wild world

Ooh baby baby it's a wild world

I've finished the first season of "Skins" and I'm heartbroken and I know that there's got to be something wrong with me since I care more about fictional characters than I do the people I know in real life, and now I'm sitting here and putting off starting the second season and I'm trying to define "loneliness" and I wonder if I make myself feel this way and that way or if it's just the way that things are.  I'm in one of those moods where I just want to drink hot chocolate and wear a giant sweater and lounge around in the Gryffindor common room even though I'm a Ravenclaw, and I want to watch sad movies and write my stupid novel with its stupid fictional dreams, but then I guess all dreams are fictional, aren't they?

I'm tired of school and pointless work and all the minutes every day that I spend waiting for someone to do something, for the teacher to start class or for the bell to ring or for someone to show up or for the hands on the clock to reach 9:30 so I can feel like it isn't too early to go to bed.  I put on my new shoes tonight and they hurt my feet right away.  They're so cute, but I feel like not forcing myself to wear them just because they're cute is something that fits in with my life philosophy, or at least the philosophy that I've been trying to make my life philosophy, which is basically "fuck it", and so if the shoes hurt and make my toes cramp up then I'm not going to wear them. 

I just don't want to disappoint anyone.

There's no light that's left to shine

There's no light that's left to shine

Tumblr is broken and it's left me frustrated and bored, and I've been watching "Skins", and I'm five or six episodes in, I think I've lost count, and Sid/Cassie break my heart.  I think it's that he's so oblivious and she's so lovely but she's out of it as well, in a Luna sort of way, and she says "wow" all the time and he always wears that stupid hat, and I know in the end they're going to end up together because they have to and it's tv and plus I read the wikipedia article, but for now I feel like a teenage girl and I want to bury myself in this and the movies I got for Chanukah tonight and all these fictional characters, because a lot of the time it seems like they're more reliable than the non-fictional ones, especially now, as this month is long and the weather's strange and there are things that I don't want to be doing but I know I ought to do, and my thoughts keep on tumbling out of my head in these run-on sentences that end up in English essays and result in less-than-perfect scores. 

I'm tired, I suppose, that's all it is really, and I want it to be winter break already, and I wish I knew what to say to you when you tell me something about that boy you like, etc. etc., and I wish that what I say could at least once at some point actually be right.    

 

 

Remember that time we jumped the fence when the Stones were playing

Remember that time we jumped the fence when the Stones were playing

I haven't blogged in a few days, which is either a reflection of my improving mental state, or a reflection of the hours I've spent watching an entire season of "Veronica Mars" over the last three days.  Thanksgiving was fine, I suppose, but I'm not a big holiday person or a big food person so really Thanksgiving is just an excuse for everyone to interrogate me about my college plans and whether or not I have a boyfriend.  Yesterday, my mom and Gilly and I went to a musical production of "The Secret Garden", which has always been one of my favorite stories, and then we went to the mall and dinner and to the bookstore, where I bought some books that I'm really excited to read, but I'm also really excited to continue watching "Misfits" and I'm excited for the way I'm going to feel when I (if I ever) finish my college apps, so I have to prioritize all of that.

Now I'm sitting here listening to Ke$ha (who I think is a genius and is underrated) and browsing tumblr, like I always am, and I've been thinking a lot about how we perceive other people and whether it's bad to have built someone up in your head to be this amazing person, all the while knowing that you'll never have any kind of relationship with him because you're you and he's him and that's just the way things are.  But I guess what I'm wondering is if the way to avoid that, because I think everyone does that, is to avoid people completely, avoid social connections, build walls that no one can break down because it's safer knowing that no one will ever hurt you than to risk that someone will.  

And I've been thinking about not knowing someone and never really being able to know someone because a lot of what we make ourselves out to be is just shells of our inner selves or what we want people to see or think they want to see.  I'm a pessimist, I suppose, in that sense, which might be why I like television characters, because they're either stereotypes or so complicated and damaged that they don't even understand themselves.  But in the end, though, they're not real.  They're never real. 

I'm up in the woods, I'm down on my mind

I'm up in the woods, I'm down on my mind

I'm currently listening to Bon Iver because I feel like winter and like sadness and like the ending of "Remember Me" just broke my heart.  Even when I know something's coming it hits me just as hard as if it were unexpected.  And I'm feeling really alone right now, not exactly lonely but alone, I guess because it's late(ish) and my eyes are dry from crying and I reached 20,000 words last night, and I think I wrote an ending that I don't want to reach yet.
  
Tomorrow is Sunday, which means that the day after tomorrow is Monday, and Monday is always horrible - actually all the days where I have to go to school are horrible, but I guess things are never going to get better if I don't try to change them.  I've been saying that for months, I suppose, but I guess I have to change who I am, not necessarily who I want to be, but who I am at the current moment, at all the current moments, and that, I guess, is a process that I'm hesitant to start because it looks like it's going to be never-ending.  E said that I've chosen to be the way that I am, and by that I mean shy and withdrawn and cowering in the corner, and I guess I have, and I guess it's because I've decided that's the safest way to be.

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much

I never knew just what it was about this old coffee shop I love so much

Right now I'm feeling more like a ballerina than I ever have in my life, with the exception of when I was little kid and actually did ballet, as I'm sitting on one of my legs and the other is up on my desk and I'm typing this as I'm sitting like that and it's only a little bit uncomfortable.  I'm listening to Landon Pigg, which I haven't done in a while, but it's not as calming as I'd hoped it would be, and neither was the new episode of "Hannah Montana" in which Hannah revealed her secret and got Jesse back.

I think I'm going to load a roll of film into my mom's old camera and then teach myself how to use it, as it's a bit different from my dad's in that it doesn't have a rainbow strap (oh, Dad) and has more dials and levers and what-nots.  Maybe that's what I'll do tonight instead of watching "Glee", which I, despite my love of Darren Criss, feel like boycotting just because everyone else can't stop talking about it.  Plus lately the show has just been making me uncomfortable with its bad writing and awkward sexual tension between the teacher and his students.  I'll just watch Darren's musical numbers online later so that I won't feel totally irrelevant.

I hate that that's how I feel when I don't know what everyone else is talking about.  I don't give a damn about Lil Wayne or whoever getting out of jail, and for some ridiculously inexplicable reason, I feel stupid when everyone's talking about him and I can't partake in the conversation.  But I never partake in conversations anyway.  So what, really, am I feeling stupid about? 

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.

 

Braced myself for the goodbye

Braced myself for the goodbye

I just finished season one of "Leverage", which is not an overly emotional or dramatic or heart-wrenching show, but somehow I manage to connect with it, just like I connect with everything I watch, no matter how crappy it is, without fail.  I really do wonder if this - this being too emotional with everything all the time - is just a teenage girl thing, or if it's a permanent condition, if it's just the way I am and have always been and always will be. 

Today was dull and tomorrow will be as well.  But it's kind of a refreshing dullness, the sort that's free of stress and drama and excessive homework.  I almost feel like with the way this year has started out, I'm going to have pushed everyone away by graduation - not on purpose really, but just by doing my own thing, by not pushing for everyone to hang out like I have in the past.  Or maybe it's subconsciously on purpose, part of this desire to leave here next year with as little ties as possible. 

But the thing that I think is the main thing - the thing that I have a lot of trouble explaining - is that I have trouble making friendships mean something to me.  I have trouble letting myself be open with others.  I feel like high school, the whole environment, has coached me and everyone else to accept that everything's transient and nothing's ever permanent, nothing's going to last forever because these four years are just a stop on the way to somewhere else.  I guess I don't want to think that way but I do, I can't help it, and despite movies like "Now and Then" I doubt that the people I know now will be the ones at my wedding in however many years. 

I guess... everyone's changing so much, and we're going to continue to change, and relationships, friendships don't always, can't always, change too.  That's why I don't put a lot of stock in love in high school.  That's what college is for, I guess - finding yourself and finding love or not and fully becoming the person you want to be. 

The so many territories

The so many territories

I am in a good mood today, knock on wood and bite my tongue.  I finished quite a bit of one of my English assignments, and I got through a full disc of "The OC" with my sister, and Hilary Duff got married last weekend, and I really want to make snickerdoodles.  I'm feeling productive, and I feel like writing not because I'm sad, which is what usually makes me want to write, but because... I don't know, just because.  Also I watched two hours of the Biography channel today, and I can't decide if it or "Covert Affairs" is to be my new addiction.   

The only thing that's bugging me right now is my printer.  I swear it's possessed by a middle-school PE teacher.  It has been attempting to scan its re-alignment sheet for twenty minutes now.  This happens every single time I (or rather my mother) change(s) the ink cartridge.

Tomorrow we are having cinnamon rolls for breakfast, assuming I get out of bed to make them and they haven't been commandeered by my father, who last night thought it would be amusing to relabel the apple pie my mom bought as cherry, provoking near-tears from my sister when she discovered apples when she cut it open.  I think the cinnamon rolls are safe, though; they haven't been baked yet.  My dad tends to steer clear of the oven, just as I tend to steer clear of rambly blog posts that are difficult to conclude.

That was a joke.       

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."