Down On My Luck

Wow, I never cease to amaze myself in the ways I find to waste my time. I just looked through 134 pages of trashy ass prom dresses. I guess the models faces were kind of amusing, in a horrifying way.

So I spent the last 3 days in an ice bath, commonly known as Manhattan. The city is just a wholly different world than these 5 small towns nestled in central Massachusetts. In fact, there is very little I can find in common between the two places. The city is embedded with gems of small organic coffee shops, talent-struck performers, gaudy lights, art museums, flowery smelling women; strutting the streets in their success filled boots. And then you turn the corner, and stumble upon the crumbled body, buried in his torn faded blanket- a desperate attempt for warmth. Littered sidewalks, impatient taxi horns, pleading advertisements, greased rubber hot dogs. For some reason the words 'commercial mind fuck' kept streaming through my head while prowling the jammed streets of Time Square. So much fraud!

You have been good to me 2009. I wish I could be sentimental and bring back my favorite moments of these 365 days of changing and growing but 2 o'clock A.M. is not the time. Tomorrow, as I am running away from the 32 chapters of Huck Finn that I have yet to start, I will (maybe) put my procrastination to use. For now, I'll see you when the sun sets east, don't forget me.

I'm Gonna Clean These Veins Again

Just as a ductile lump of play-dough would be, she can be stretched and strung on to a life that she does not belong to. Her mind will trick her, due to desires, attempts, pleads at forming a essential piece to the social puzzle. But no, she has no place here. The heats increase the soft vulnerability of her texture, manipulating, haunting, lying. Where do we go from here?

Okay so- Christmas. There is a lot I don't understand about Christianity. Probably due to the fact that I have been to church once in my life, and I for the most part avoid asking questions. Most people, I find, don't have straight forth answers anyways. Religion, beliefs, traditions, they all vary between each holder. So I guess my questions would more sufficiently be returned with a personal opinion or reply rather than a factual answer. Thoughts and opinions are always more interesting anyways. But I know there is something about being real giving and caring during the time, and that is just sweet and warm. A warm that thaws the bitterness of everything that is ever so slightly destructive inside of us. Resentment, guilt, hate, they don't exist when showered with these gleams of warmth. To put it simply, I really just want to be warm yellow light that pours all over everyone I love.

To everyone who has made me 'discover myself' in the past 78 days, i love you, you are beautiful, and thank you. (That goes to you, reader)

Or Maybe Not.

Sitting with Erin McGowen at lunch today was one of the brightest parts of the 6 hour school day. There is something special in that girl, and I don't think everyone sees it. Being the foundation is admirable. She is a very active listener too, which I think anyone can appreciate. You're awesome gourl.

Later in that same lunch, I found myself eaves-dropping on a conversation between Emily and Mr. Farrell. It is really unfortunate that I got stuck with such a shitty English teacher last year, when this guy was right down the hall, preaching actual knowledge to his students. Thankfully, I will never in my life have to spend another moment in a classroom with Roberta Lajko. Anyways, Mr. Farrell's ending line to the conversation left me in contemplation for the remainder of the day. "i'll see you guys later, or maybe not" What makes us so certain that we are not lying, when we say 'i'll see you tomorrow!' The thought is kind of morbid, but in reality we can never confirm that statement unless it changes tenses ('i saw you today!') If we thought this way, I have a feeling that the time spent with each other would be savored to a whole new level.

I am loving APUSH more and more with each passing day, and despising grades more and more with each passing hour. I learned so much about the Jazz Age in these past 2 weeks, and tomorrow I am going to be given a numerical judge, which with loudly display my worthiness to be anything of importance in life. Really, grades are bullshit. If I had the courage and determination to stand up with civil disobedience, I would hold a riot to protest the use of grades. Instead I am just going to be tested on how Thoreau did it.

i'm so nervous, i'm so tense

my heart can't forget about it's self defense

the air is so hot and my breath comes fast

been thinking little thoughts,

'keep on walking' - 'try to stay up'

pay attention to the details

we go slowly, slowly down.

i'm all outtta luck

But I can try, I can try, to toughen up..

Hannukah is so different this year. Thinking about it too much makes my chest hurt, so I try to avoid being nostalgic about how festive it used to be. I distinctly remember counting down the days. Fighting with Phoebe over who got to put the candle on the velcro menorah each night. Mounds of colorful presents, 8 of which smelled like cigarette smoke from my step grandmother's blackened lungs. Waiting anxiously in my room, while my parents hid my presents around the house. Searching for said presents ravenously, worrying that Phoebe was going to find hers before me. That feeling of warmth and utter joy that a kid gets simply from a stupid toy, one that would soon be forgotten in the weeks to come.

That velcro menorah is lying in a pile of dust and other unwanted objects in the crevices of Phoebe's closet. My step grandmother is out of my life, I probably won't even be able to tell you when the blackness of her lungs finally conquers her. Phoebe is gone, and I am now given a present every night in the manner that adults exchange gifts. Seated, proper, carefully unfolding wrapping paper, politely thanking. I suppose it is all for the better that I have moved on from the child version of Hannukah. Now, my warmth and joy comes from gratitude I have that I get to have a nice dinner with my parents every night. And from my new found fascination with candles. How quickly that flame can make them go from a tall standing pillar of success to nothing but melted goop. I don't know, I guess change is healthy or something like that. Thats what they say at least.

Change is hard, I should know.

December 16, 2009

My room is the coldest room in the house. No matter how hard I try, the chilled air remains grasped to my walls, never allowing the warmth it. Mental block.

Day 5

Today I..

1. .. experienced the most awkward DP of my life in english, and M. Worthy broke out her applause worthy moves. I wish Pheeb was there, then it would have been a real party.

2. .. listened to Sam Something talk about how he makes comic-book zines. He lives with his parents and has $0 to his name, but is content with the fact that he is going to leave something that he contributed to this world, when he dies. He was refreshing. 23 is a very young age to have receding hair lines and a bald crown on your head..

3. .. got my first 25% on a quiz! How exciting. (to the parents who are reading this.. my lowest quiz grade drops. so it was basically, simply a learning experience. we all need those)

4. .. procrastinated a whole lot.

5. .. found out I have a abnormally high belly button. Oh, so special.

mah gah bah.

Tangled

lonely, lonely, lonely. crowds. balloons, rain, splash, ouch- squashed. white light on my mind, never remember the time. time time time. edit? yes, edit edit edit. rust inhibits eyelids, chemicals reacting. 3 points less, strive. that ice perched on your finger, wedding. white and black, such contrast. "oh really? thats weeeeird" bored, always bored. wet tears on your baby's shoulder, 39-24-5. take a look around, no regrets, no regrets. red? no, you are my favorite color.

the planet is a gunboat in a sea of fear

thom yorke's voice is a stroke of genius. i'm tellin yah, when the ice, snow, sleet, nasty-black-rock-hard-make-you-hate-winter-snow comes, bring on the radiohead. and this picture perfectly depicts my feelings at the moment. i'm just gonna go ahead and chose not to believe what they tell me, when they say you are being a fraud. because i don't agree, and also i don't want to agree. so i'm not going to.

today was a content kind of day. eff kawledge, i'm not going to stress about that yet! things are looking uphill.

I want to live and breathe
I want to be part of the human race.

i'm just a drip in your faucet

snow days make me very nostalgic. i took it for granted back then. the fact that it was an entire day, where i had uninterrupted time with my sister, and we could crawl around under the sagging branches in our yard. where did those woods good? i swear they are not there anymore. they seemed to carry on for miles, with countless crevices to hide in. playing in the snow always made you so hot and sweaty, because digging yourself out of the weight and burden of the powder was actually quite a laboring task. probably even more so than the pointless shoveling my parents did. i loved snow days then. of course, i still do now, but just for lazy reasons. kids are never lazy.

song of the day is emily jean stock by clap your hands say yeah

you look so neat, everyday is your birthday

they will shred you to pieces

Did you know that foxes bark? There is one roaring away in my backyard right now. These desperate violent screams can't help trigger images of Stella being ferociously torn apart by a ravenous fox. I hate these images, they provoke a light flutter of panic in my chest. But then I remember that my fattie lard of a cat is sound asleep in her nicely cushioned bed. And some other innocent, defenseless animal is being attacked out there in the hard dry cold of my backyard..

Shout out to my darling sister who i miss terribly<3

Ahhhhhhh they won't quit barking

Please, with those wings in your spine

Byebye nutcracker 09, back to reality.

Oh amsco, how you never cease to amaze me with your dullness.

Hanover

Welcome to Nutcracker 2009. Quite scary how quickly I can go from miserable to joy-filled, just as a result of the comfort from a select few. I would not be able to do this week without them.

Cigarettes and Rusty Tires

and i tried to tell you, as i kissed your hard dry lips, all the thing i dreamed about..

Damn layout. I will fix it when I have ambition to do so. That time is not now..

Hydrogen Clorate: HCO(sub3) -

Hydrogen Sulfide: HSO (sub4) -

I am putting the flash cards for these two ions under my pillow tonight, and I will learn them through osmosis.

Tomorrow is the first day of my favorite week of the year, and I have yet to ease my mind into the preparation for it. Oh well! I am so so content with life.

..i touched your bone white hips.

Relief

The right side of my throat is being STABBED every time I swallow. What the hell kind of sickness is that, when nothing is wrong besides your throat hurting for 2 weeks?

I went to the Holy Cross college campus today. It was so stunning that I nearly forgot that I was still in Worcester, several times. Even as great as a college can get, I could never ever get over how much of a failure Worcester is at being a 'college-esque' town. Not that it is necessary for it to be, but I just don't think it would be the ideal environment to shape my future self in. While getting lost around the campus, I lagged behind the group with Joey and pretended I was his photography sidekick. Wanna-be photographer if you will. Regardless, it was the best 20 minutes of the field trip. Man how I love 60 degree coldness spitting down my lungs.

And then, there are my best friends. I don't know if its just the life of a teenage girl, but something inside all of us makes us so similar. It really is amazing how much less alone and panicked you feel, when you are reassured that three strong pillars of support are surrounding you, guarding you from failure. Words just naturally make more sense than thoughts do. And once they peel away from your lips, and travel through the air like freedom, all those thoughts seem to lay down inside your head and take one large *inhale* ... *exhale* Relief.

SILENCE

IUYh87e sjgbu8t7*Tf87yg dshuhgun

someone please teach me how to be patient and think before i just blab things. maybe i should consider a period of silence. it may do me some good?

You know where you are with
Floor collapsing
Floating, bouncing back
And one day....
I am going to grow wings

It is winter (practically) - time to engulf my brain in Radiohead.

11:11

Perff.

Think, Blink, Shrink

I hope that someday, something I will do, will help someone. Or broaden their horizons. Or make them think twice. Or make their heart flutter with content. Or make them realize how beautiful they are.

Then, I can feel satisfied.

Procrastination to Its Fullest

I am currently in a state of unorganized frenzy, as I am hurrying to produce a 'sophisticated' lab report for chemistry. I have read over the instructions sheet at least 4 or 5 times, in hopes of finding the hidden treasure (an obvious answer to all my problems)

And then, at the very bottom on the back of the instructions sheet, there it lay. Noble, shining with hopeful truth spilling from its words. This sentence read:

NOTE: Do not procrastinate writing the report. Get it done at least one day before it is due. This will give you a chance to let your mind clear and go back to proof read the paper. A lot of bad phrasings, grammatical errors, and poor writing can be corrected this way.

Let my mind clear? What? Is that english? Those words do not exist in my life. Maybe if I learned to follow his first piece of advice, and didn't begin this the night before, THEN maybe these words would be alive to me. But for now, I think I subconsciously enjoy having my brain be overflowing with thoughts. Maybe. Why else do I do it to myself willingly?

Song of the Dayizzle! Naomi by Neutral Milk Hotel. (shout out to jo-weeze for spreading the wealth)

Cracks

At 12:09 this morning, I awoke and listened to the shear sound of flames pumping heat

into our home. My eyes twitched, not knowing which patch of darkness to settle on. My thoughts fuzzed with wonder,

"Why am I awake?"

Then, realization hit.

Drip, Drip Drip.

Agitated, I wiped away the sickness that was expelling from my nose. In preparation to re-enter the land of peace, I shifted my slumber position. Now, a dark smear of maroon caught my eye. In utter horror, my lungs deflated. My once drooped eyes widened with shock, as I stared down at my blood covered forearms. The wrinkles in my hands showed through the dried red like cracks in the pavement. Or cracks in maturity. Or cracks in hearts. Or cracks in teeth. Or cracks in honesty, fraud, effort, or success.

I got a bloody nose at 12:09 this morning. What a horrifying sight it is, to see my own innocent hands covered in a liquid that is so closely tied to everything immoral. Events like these cause smudges of blood on my sheets, cracks in my judgement, flooding wonder.

Drip, Drip, Drip.

blank

i want to post a blog right now, but nothing is coming to mind. poetry was deleted several times, to a point where i came to the conclusion that tonight is not a poetry kind of night.

one month until nutcracker, and i genuinely can not wait. bring on the madness.

Box

Today I had a 2 hour, solo drive time with Mr. Maki. Mr. Maki has lived in Holden his whole life, and he has been working for the Safety Council long enough to have taught 9,000 drive times. He doesn't go to movies, refuses to fly in a plane post-911, and eats at McDonalds 5 days a week. He doesn't know what a burrito is, and doesn't care to try one because he likes the food he likes, and thats all he needs.

In this life, I know very little of what I want for myself. The little that I do know seems to drift in and out of certainly everyday. But after hearing this, I can surely confirm that Mr. Maki's lifestyle is the epitome oh what not to do, for me at least. The only redeeming part of it all, that whisked me out of utter pitty and depression, is that Mr. Maki loves his life. It is simple, and that is plenty enough for him. He truly believes that if he is happy, what need is there to step outside such a confined box?

Note to anyone who is going to play any role in my future: Please please please, always urge me to be released from that confined box. I'm not fond of small spaces.

Dear blog,

I am inflated with love and friendship. Its almost unfair how happy I am, through this shitfest of a work week. Shout out to all of you who just gave me the strange foreign thought "I can't wait for school tomorrow" You know who you are.

Sincerely, Joy.

And I never thought this life was possible

You're the yellow bird that I've been waiting for

Sickness

I wish this damn blog could talk back because I have so many questions about concepts that seem impossible to grasp. How can something so dangerous, and so deadly, be naturally produced by our own bodies? How the hell is this fair? What do I even say to convey my feelings of support and sorrow, when none of it matters compared to what she is going through? And most importantly WHY is this happening???

I don't even know how to put any of this into words. Fear? Sadness? Grief? They all seem to pale in comparison to the vivacity of these emotions that are currently engulfing the body and mind of myself and my friends. All of the sudden, this has become something so real. Something that has been out of the normal box of thoughts for my brain. It is foreign, and I am completely fumbled and unaware of how to handle these feelings. The only two I can surely identify in the hearts of their family are bravery and hope. For this, I am in utter admiration.

stay strong<3

Hanging Back WIth the Brooms

She was born on a bright new pew

To a gypsy mother and a bucket of tears

Her good looks could've sailed a ship

But her will alone could've sunk it.

Out of the ordinary things that happened today:

1. I only pressed 'snooze' on my alarm clock once, when the norm is 2 or 3 times. I was ready early! Amazing how that works out.

2. Driving to school, I witnessed an accident! Not really a real one, but some obnoxiously large, nature polluting pick up truck had rear-ended the Coyne car. These are the kind of things that make me content with the fact that I don't have my license.

3. A girl named Shannon almost passed out in my art class first period. She got wheeled away in a wheel chair, and I felt very very sympathetic for her.

4. I ran into Max Baker in the hall today while no one else was around and he told me he was going to the nurse because he had just puked. Gross. I hope Shannon and Max both feel better..

5. Dave got a higher score than I did on our most recent APUSH test and mocked me for it! .. Oh wait, neither of those things are out of the ordinary whatsoever.

Overall, this day gets a thumbs up. Our video project for English is going to be so perfect if we magically add another day in this week where we can all work together to make it. Since when do we not have enough time for school work? Isn't that not suppose to happen?

My back hurts. Shit.

It is scary how fragile our bodies are..

WedNESday, Yay.

Highlight #1: Today in art long block I managed to start my self portrait (everyone else started about a week ago, and I was stuck suffering in the sketching stage as Ms. Fusco mercilessly reminded me of flaw after flaw about my drawing). In the same period, I came close to finishing my self portrait. Do you have any idea how satisfying this is? It made me feel productive for the entirety of the day.

Highlight #2: My mother (the world's best cook) made tacos for dinner. Tacos will forever be my favorite food, and will forever be the highlight of any day that they play a role in.

Connected

And when Paul thinks of snow, soft winds blow, 'round his head
and the phone rings, just once late at night, like a bird
calling out, "Wake up, Paul.

Don't be scared, don't believe you're all alone."

Listening to this album reminded me of the connection that Andrew Bird brought to Joey, Emily, Nina, and I a couple of months ago. It is really weird when you have something inside of you, and you think it is so unique to only you. Like it is too big to explain with words, so how could anyone else possibly understand?But then one day you find someone, who carries this exact same 'thing' or thought or feeling or belief that you do and they can understand whatever is inside of you that they share. Today it hit me that I am surrounded by precious, complex, wonderful people who I don't take nearly enough time to appreciate. On the walk from school to 'The Corner Shop' I had a very enjoyable talk with someone who I am realizing has more of a connection to me (and my thoughts, feelings, beliefs) than I thought. And it makes me so hopeful that everything I feel inside this confused little body of mine is not alone.

AMSCO YAH AMSCO.

Something happens in the hearts of most people when they enter the driver's seat of a vehicle, I'm sure of it. Or maybe their heart simply just disappears? Bottom line that on the road, everyone seems like selfish, rude, inpatient assholes. The passenger seat is where my juvenile self was first introduced to words such as "idiot" and "imbecile" as my mother got frustrated with the apparently inadequate drivers surrounding her. Driving is a huge symbolic step in my life, and I do not want to fall into the trap of being an angry driver who honks, passes those going to speed limit, and whips out the middle finger. I am not going to become this driver! OKAY? Okay.

Determination.

P.s. This was a beautiful weekend- back to the grind.

In Your Heart There's A Spark

Not to be extremely cliche or anything and quote Winnie the Pooh.. but I'm going to quote Winnie the Pooh. Because sometimes you forget this, but I would like to remind you that you are "braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." Never forget it, you're a wonderful, true person, and you have the freedom of accomplishing anything at all you desire, in your future.

Happy Birthday Week Jay '0H.

Good Enough?

-I hate powerschool with a fiery passion. It reminds you of every single mistake you have made, even if the mistake doesn't even end up mattering in the long run. Can't it just be pitying, and deem forgiveness for my mistakes? Damn heartless powerschool, it will never let me be 'good enough.'

I need change.

True Fall

Today, honesty is the bravest quality that you can portray. Embrace it, thrive with it.

I felt the wind on my cheek, coming down from the east,

And thought about how we are all as numerous as leaves on trees

And maybe ours is the cause of all mankind

Give love to make more, try to stay alive.

Scramble

Isn't it weird, that there are aspects of ourselves that we don't even realize are there? And it is likely, that someone else has discovered these parts of you, when you are completely oblivious to the fact that you display hints of them? Wow that made absolutely no sense. Bottom line is that I think I have discovered something about a friend, that she herself is unaware of. Maybe she really does know, but isn't strong enough to believe and accept it. And the worst part is, some people never ever find that strength. 

So today was beautiful. And thought filled, and love filled, and happy, and changing. Yom Kippur is the Jewish 'Day of Atonement.' I have been practicing this holiday for as long as I can remember, but the purpose and meaning to it has always seemed to slide right past my naive mindset. But now  I have graduated from spending large portions of the service in the coat room, to escape boredom. No longer can I pass inappropriate notes to Phoebe who is by my side snickering endlessly. So, what to do but indulge myself into the service, and that I did. The prayer book that sat on my lap listed endless sins that we as the human race commit every day. Paragraphs and pages telling me how everyone has wronged them selves, their community and God, in so many ways. I have never realized how unnecessary all of the negative things I do and say are. In fact, they are so common and meaningless, that no one even notices! But somehow the thin pages of the prayer book knew it all. And thats when it hit me- WE ALL DO IT. We all suck sometimes, probably more than we even notice. Gossip sucks. Lack of patients sucks. Jealousy sucks. I want to stop having these feelings, and be more excepting, less judgmental, and have a better heart. So for all that, thats what I atoned for. And that is good enough for me. 

And you know what? Jealousy hides in every emotion possible before it will finally reveals itself, and surrenders to weakest traits of my personality.

Sorry if this blog made zero sense but thats okay because it is late and I am tired and I want to pass my APUSH test tomorrow. AND WHY? IS SO DAMN GOOD.

Sleep.

Thoughts as of this very moments:

1. Damn spirit week. 

2. Joey Hersh, you are a noble person and friend.

3. WHERE IS MY HAPPY MEDIUM

4. Fame comes to theaters tomorrow! It will probably be bad. 

5. High school dances consist of no real dancing.

6. Is being a chameleon a bad thing? I hope not.

7. Why? Sunday!

8. Sleep

9. Sleep

10. Sleep

Lovely

Tea and Andrew Bird go very nicely together. I get to dress up like Clark Kent tomorrow! 

and she's got knee high socks, what to cover a bruise
she's got an old death kit she's been meaning to use
she's got blood in her eyes, in her eyes for you

Slow Silent Thick And Black

I think, in a way, I am overcoming the standard of judging the unknown solely based upon another's opinion. I am sparking a couple of new friendships this week, in unexpected places. And let me tell you, it is a beyond refreshing feeling. Happy New Year!

The song of the day is any track from Don't Fall In Love With Everyone You See By Okkervil River because one cannot be chosen. 

Happy Hearts

Today is my parents' 20th wedding anniversary.

What? They have been whole-heartedly committed to each other for 20 years? Is that even possible? I have so many doubts about my ability to accomplish a similar relationship. There is so much I need experience as my single self. In the grand scale of things, I think I know close to nothing, compared to what is (hopefully) coming my way in the future. I guess thats why we all grow, mature, and eventually develop into the wise, beautiful people that we all have potential to be. My parents are two people who can put a large check mark next to this this on the: To-Do-In-Life-List. They are winners.

For some reason, I always interpret Phoebe's opinions of teachers as undoubtedly true. This is how our conversation went, prior to school beginning:

me: "Ohhhhh crap!!! I have Madame Scarsella. My life is over."

Phoebe: "Are you kidding! Emily, you will love that class. All you do is color and watch wicked good movies. And Madame loved me, so she will love you too"

me (thinking): Wow this is awesome! I will actually have an easy year in french, and the teacher will already love me just upon recognizing my name!!

Dear Phoebe: You are a liar. This woman is heartless! She didn't give me credit on my vocab homework today because I did it in my designated vocab notebook, and not on a separate worksheet. ???WHAT.  Oh, get me away from here I'm dying. 

Want to hear something crazy, and really fortunate? I have looked forward to going to dance every single day so far. I hope this feeling lasts..

See the people on the street? They go home and what do you think they dream of?

u-n-c-o-n-d-i-t-i-o-n-a-l  l-o-v-e.

Emotion At Last

I haven't felt such vivacity in a long time. The last few weeks of summer, I was secretly fearing that I had turned into that type of coral, the one that is heartless, and that a certain someone once told me I resembled.  I was feeling completely indifferent to a multitude of scenarios. Times where I believed a hurricane of emotions would be a more appropriate reaction. But this weekend, today in-particular, I felt so alive. Pity, emptiness, resistance to change, loneliness, cold, warmth, comfort, love, achievement, calm, hope, admiration, excitement for the future, innocence, it all comes together to form quite the rush. As far as sadness goes, it really shouldn't be avoided as much as we attempt to steer clear of it. It is the most powerful emotion our vulnerable human selves can produce, and its very healthy to practice it to a dull extent once in a while. The safety of sadness though, is if you are strong enough to know how to overcome it when you so desire. Then, you have the will to enjoy it for what its worth. 

So, Phoebe is currently living on the peak of a hill overlooking the Amherst farms. What a strange, foreign world college is. I drove the whole hour and a half home from Umass. Along the way, I came inches away from turning a baby turkey into road kill. I'm sorry for scaring you turkey family, but I knew the entire time that your baby was going to be safe. In my mind, and body too I suppose, I have complete control and confidence in handling the large clunky vehicle I am driving. My mother is not so sure about this control. Maybe she is right, who knows. 

Joey Hersh has the best house on the planet. His family only adds to the warmth and the welcome. I hope you realize how lucky you are, boi. 

And now I am going to go listen to Two Headed Boy Part II on repeat until I fall asleep. Miss you Pheebs.

Resistance

I am being torn. The entire day, I have felt as if someone has attached a rope, or even a perpetual wire of some sort, to my heart and is trying with all their might to tug it down into a deep abyss of empty sadness. This constant tugging isn't what hurts, but the resistance to stay up in happy-land, that hurts. And I am not doing so well at resisting. 

It is a major weakness I have, my inability to say goodbye to people. The need to bid goodbye to loved ones, as well as things, is only going to get greater in my life as I grow older. Change helps you grow, and the sooner I accept that, the sooner I will gain the strength to allow it  to help me grow. In this aspect I have not aged much passed my sheltered childhood: Problem. In 2 years, when I have to leave my 18 years of comforting life behind, I hope I will be a strong, courageous enough of a person to do so with confidence and excitement. Like she is. 

in my dreams you're alive and you're crying, 

as your mouth moves in mine soft and sweet, 

rings of flowers around your eyes 

and I'll love you for the rest of your life.

Locked

This morning I babysat for Livi and Eli. As 9 o'clock is outrageously early to be awake, and I can hardly be expected to function properly, I was dosing off while watching Disney Channel with the kiddies. When I uncomfortably arose 10 minutes later, the strangest 10 seconds of my life happened. Everything was disoriented, it was like I was still in a dream. Fogged with confusion,  I told my arm to shift positions several times. It remained limp by my side. When I began to realize what was going on, I concocted a sentence in my head, and began to form my lips so they could release the message. To my horror, nothing came out. My mouth was paralyzed as well. All of this happened so quickly that I didn't have much time to settle into panic mode, before I became fully awake. But for about 7 seconds this morning, I was in sleep paralysis, where your mind is awake but your body isn't. I was shaken for the majority of the hours following. 

This picture is of Eli, as he is being guarded by the protective walls of his fort. I still don't understand why being engulfed in a cave of pillows and blankets is one of the most entertaining activities as a child. Maybe the sense of ownership, of your own space? Even if it is only big enough to fit your 6 year old self. A lot more goes on in a 6 year old brain than we generally assume. 

Haze

Sometimes confusion cancels it out.

Genuine

I have been awake for 36 hours straight. It is a pretty 'off' feeling, because your body is well aware that something is missing. I also wasn't hungry the majority of the day today. I only ended up eating one crepe and dinner at the flirtacious Mexican restaurant. I have iron eyelids.

I came to the conclusion that Holden Days is only enjoyable if you are under the age of 13 or over the age of 65. And I also concluded that I am not going to have a career in business, or sales marketing because I am not outgoing enough to take the initiative to sell a product. Never the less, we sold quite a few bags of organic, kosher, dog treats to support NEADS. 

I have a handful of friends who seem to already have it all figured out. They know what they are aiming for, and know how they are able to achieve it. I envy this on one hand, but on the other it is just too nice to have any feeling towards besides extreme pleasure. I am so happy that they are this smart and genuine. Maybe one day I can mimic their behavior, or just find how to manage my own. 

I am currently blogging from Phoebe's new college laptop. I hate this thing, it is going to mercilessly tear her away from me and bring her to college.

 

Early

No part of me was anticipating waking up at 8:30 today. I took my jolly old time completing my daily AP work last night, fully relying on the fact that there was going to be nothing waking my slumbers in the morning. You know that feeling, when you are deep asleep, and something wakes you up so quickly that you think you feel every single one of your organs wake up? That's what I imagine anyways. Well, this morning my mother came into my room, busy and exasperated and said "EMILY! You have to pick up the CDs on the living room floor before the cleaning lady gets here!" I felt so disoriented that I forgot that put my glasses on, thus running into several objects on my way downstairs. As I finished my apparently life-or-death-matter, extremely-urgent task, I attempted to go back to sleep. About 10 minutes later I hear the power washer turn on outside on the deck, and the house begins to fill with a faint, yet potent smell of gasoline. Soon enough the fire alarm is blaring and I am sitting outside in the only smell-free zone I could find, cradling Stella. 

I like other's birthdays possibly more than my own, because of the challenge to make them as happy as possible. 18 18 18.

Relate Me Please

My muscles feel like they are being inserted into a meat shredder, and tiny splinters of metal are jabbing into their deteriorating, mangled pieces. I hope this is some sort of relatable description for you. Sometimes I just wish I could relate to whatever people are trying to tell or share with me, and fully understand their feeling without urging them to find some fantom words to describe it. When the truth is, we do not have nearly enough words or concepts to wrap our minds around other's feelings and thoughts.  

The song of the day is With Arms Outstetched by Rilo Kiley. Listening to this album, made me cry for the third time tonight. 

and if you want me, you better speak up, i won't wait. 

Robin Williams' Birthday

I am puzzled and in awe over the fact that both Joey and Phoebe have managed to blog (basically) everyday of this summer. Props to them, for being consistent even when it is a hassle. 

So this week is that painful week, in every 16 year old's life, when the law requires you to sit in a classroom and be lectured about how we are basically expected to die as soon as we start driving. I have only been through 14 hours so far, and I have seen well over ten sob stories about tragic, careless car wrecks. The first couple stories were sad and the message sunk in (no texting [the word texting is being underlined as need to be spell checked! haha] while driving, no drinking and driving, wear your seat belt, etc.) But then! I got overwhelming deja-vu of health class, where they inform you that if you have sex, you will catch 7 STDs and most likely die. Sex=death, drving=death also. Teachers just want to tell you that there are way more ways for you to die than there actually are.  Did you know it is against the law to hang those air freshener thingys from the review mirror? 

I can overhear my mother watching the news on television, and they are sharing information about road rage. I can't escape it!

I went to dance tonight for the first time in 2 months. Yolanta, my bone-thin-Lithuanian ballet mistress, was surprisingly nice. She didn't make me want to curl up in a ball and hide in a hole and never do ballet ever again.. like usual. I didn't even get yelled at for not sweating enough- INSANE. So yeah, ballet hurt. I am so out of shape and am going to be dancing 8 hours a day, everyday next week. Better get shaping. 

I am mostly care-free and especially happy. 

You're The Only Proper Noun I Need

Oh hello bloggosphere! Sorry I haven't blogged in an extended period of time, I promise it won't be a regular thing. I WILL continue to blog regularly. (I am convincing myself of this fact more than anyone else.) I have too much to say and the only way I can logically organize it is in narrative numbering. So here it goes. 

1. Bears are really not as scary as the Yosemite park rangers worked them up to be. They just seem like big, (but not even that big) dumb dogs. I am though, glad that the only bear I saw was from the protection of my noble van. I am really grateful that this beautiful land is protected by the government, but about 95% of the people who visit Yosemite don't even hike it. They stay in obnoxious RVs or hotels and eat from the restaurants and buy junk from the gift shop. I sound snobby, but oh well. 

2. The midnight view of the clusters of stars flooding the Yosemite sky is something I can't describe. If you ever get the chance, it is worth a good solid hour of gazing. Also- eating uncooked rice for dinner made me feel slightly like Bear Grillz. It was satisfying in a why-the-hell-am-I-eating-this sort of way. 

3. Berkeley, California! What a place. 

4. I can't hear my music because the pounding droplets of rain on my deck are drowning out the minimal volume on this computer. 

5. I just made $50 for making a frozen pizza and watching Hannah Montanna for 4 hours!

pull me, pull me on out of this tree i'm stuck up a branch waiting clearly caught between two things unclear to me

Happy Medium-Less.

When you are getting dusty, sweaty, and sticky from hiking three days straight, one of the primary goals on your mind is to take a really really satisfying shower. I am talking the kind that doesn't get cold at the end because you have taken too long, and the kind where you can shampoo your hair twice, just to feel that extra bit of cleanliness. Well, I just showered, and it was a disappointment. I couldn't find that perfect temperature. It was either a scorching hot that pulsed down on my sunburn, or chilled (VERY unsatisfying.) In the end- happy medium was never found. I have been trying to find that middle ground much too much lately. How far can the situation be pushed before finally crumbling into mounds of unwanted ruins? How much maturity is acceptable for our age, and how much innocence and naivety we are allowed to keep? I think this question is very troubling, especially to a certain someone at the moment, who would like the naivety to last a little longer. I miss everyone.

So YAH hiking is real nice. Even nicer is the California coastal terrain. It is so odd- one minute you will be in a field of sad grass, dying of malnutrition (there is a drought going on in Cali.) The next 50 feet will be in a lush coniferous forest, strongly resembling Murkwood. I won't go into insignificant details of the three day long trip, but I will tell the highlights. On Monday, we stayed on Muir Beach. This highly unpopulated village consisted of 125 homes, an unsanitary beach, and the Pelican Inn. When we were hiking to Muir Beach, the sun was beginning to lower on the horizon line, and therefor was reflecting onto the Pacific Ocean. This view most definitely ranks up there with the most.. majestic sights I have ever witnessed. When I get home, it's picture will find its way onto this blog.

Today, when we were heading back south towards San Francisco, I caught a glimpse of the cluster of sky scrappers in the distance. Amongst them, was the towers of the Golden Gate bridge. The strange thing though, was that I was larger than the Golden Gate bridge. I could look down upon what looked like toy cars, whizzing by. I could see the tops of trees, houses, and ant-sized people. I felt LARGE! This was the good kind of large. The powerful, conquering kind. I was bigger, better, and more liberated then any of these man-made-masses. Then, when I looked down at my feet, and saw a beetle that I had just carelessly crushed with my boot. I felt so insensitive. Like clumsy, and powerless. I couldn't do a thing to help the countless parts of nature that I most likely weakened today, by trudging through their home. Poweful or Powerless. I can never find that happy medium.

When I've been fixed I am convinced that I will not get so broke up again.

Full

My stomach is so full right now that I wouldn't be surprised if my skin was expanding in order to house all of this damn food. I always do this to myself on vacation, because one of the major social activities of the day is meal time. As the days become more and more shaped around the eating hours, I feel more and more obligated to eat in abundance to please the people who are cooking for me. Starting tomorrow though, I am going to solve this problem by this little heavenly activity called hiking. Hiking (anywhere) is an extremely crucial part of my summer, as it forces me to spend time reflecting, planning, contemplating, philosophizing, and just time to think, uninterrupted. I'm ready to get away from this civilization junk already. (<-- practicing hiker's attitude) My favorite line of the day was by my dad, where he confidently asked Phoebe and I "Guys, How can I make my style more hipster?" If there was such thing as a 49 year old hipster, my dad would be a perfect representation. We told him he needs to get some cooler (hipster) beat up sneakers, and buy some (hipster) band tees. Maybe a light scarf, not appropriate for the season, could be thrown in there. He already has a pretty good head start on this hipster thing though, rocking the American Apparel tee and Levi jeans, and jammin' out to Wilco and Death Cab on his way to work.

Next time I am in California is going to be on my road trip with EmFried, Jay Oh Three Seven, and DIEhl.

Part one of California- over and done with. Golden Gate National Park here I come. Now I am going to write post cards.

I Don't Take Orders From Anyone

DAY ONE: DOWN TOWN SAN FRANSISCO

I just ate a leorange. I don't know if this is really the name for it.. but it didn't taste like an orange or a lemon. It was a perfect combination of the two flavors, and it had grown about 3 feet from our front door! Wow. California.

I woke up at 6:47 this morning, and my eyelids weren't the least bit heavy. Jetlag is awesome, when traveling west. Heading home won't be as convenient, but that is a million days in the future. Anyways, my great uncle Frank took Phoebe and I out to get bagels for breakfast. I seldom see Uncle Frank, and when I do it is for tragic events like funerals where no one really has the energy to have a heart to heart bonding sesh. In result, this was my first time really meeting Uncle Frank. He is one of the few people from my mom's family who escaped the entrapment of Jacksonville, Florida. Once again, I was in total awe at how wise old(er) people are! He fired an endless series of questions at us, so I began to tell him about my dance life, since apparently that's what I am passionate about. He told me that it does not matter what the activity is, but if you stop having fun with something you partake in every day, then it becomes work and you need to stop. This seemed logical to me. But does it mean I never have to do anything that is not fun? Now wouldn't that be nice. I think the point was more to make the things you do fun, not just chose them because they are fun. I don't know. I have doubts about my choice to dance every single day.

Well anyways! San Francisco is such a foreign city compared to everything I have seen in my life. I don't know if I got an accurate feel for the city though, due to excess swarms of shoe-bee tourists thanks to stupid July 4th. Personally, I don't think there is any need to glorify our country anymore than we do on the d. (Shout out to the influence back on L.Woods) So yeah, despite the fumbling abundance of tourist, I really enjoyed the city. I somehow scored the prime spot on the cable car, and hung my sun-seeking self out the front of the car. As we hurtled up vertical cliffs of the city, I couldn't help but to have the reoccurring image of Full House flash into my mind. Regardless, it was a very pleasant time spent in the Fran.

There is a very logical reason to why I avoid the Sterling Fair, Six Flags, and Disney- ROLLARCOASTERS SUCK! Unwillingly, I took a little ride on one today in a taxi cab. At the end of the day, my oh so jolly family hops into a cab to relax our way back to the train station. The accented driver rebuffed every attempt my dad made to make small talk. My dad really enjoys talking to strangers, especially taxi drivers. He has heard real interesting stories from them in the past, and is always looking for more. This particular driver however, was in no mood at all to chit-chat. He had one plan only, and that was to get us to the BART station.. as fast as possible. If you don't know what the steep streets in San Francisco look like.. please look them up because that is a key factor to the scene of this story. This man pushed the ACCELERATOR while plummeting down a near-vertical, narrow avenue. As soon as we hit the bottom, the road turned directly back upward into a climb so high that my stomach was in my esophagus. At one point, my panicked mother (who was tightly gripping my thigh the entire time) asked him if he could slow down just a tad. He slyly, yet harshly replied, "I don't take orders from anyone." She kept her mouth shut the rest of the drive. We made it to the train station in 4 minutes, a time that was way way way way too quick for anyone wishing to live a little longer. Even though this man acted like he was living the unsatisfied life of a taxi driver, he was most certainly having fun. And this is why he was doing what he was doing. All about the fun.


The first step to achieving anything at all in life is having self-motivation. If you don't hold this quality then you will easily accept let down, and just wallow endlessly in self pity - Life Lesson of the Day.

Underneath My California Stars

I think I have developed this new habit of actually giving myself a stomach ache when I enter an airport. When we are flying steady in the air, it magically goes away. I wonder why some fears arise mid-life. If I am able to change my brain to being scared of taking off in an airplane, that means I can change it back to fear-free right? Right.

This is my first time ever visiting California, and in sterotypical Cali, you meet celebrities on every street corner. So, I get off the plane in the San Francisco airport today, and there, standing all stylishly, is Ricky from The Secret Life of the American Teenager! I feel so lame for being excited over this. He is such a bad actor. Regardless (and shamefully), I was star struck. Phoebe and I got a picture with him, which will probably be very popular with some of my abc-family-loving-friends when it hits facebook. Ohh stardom, what a world.

I don't want to sound like my grandmother, and talk about the weather excessively, but I need to talk about the weather for just a minute. To date, I have not felt that summer "sensation" that you only feel when your skin is being lathered in sun rays. For me, this feeling is the only one that truely convinces me that I am allowed to relax for 2 months. Entering San Fransisco, California today this INSANE thing happened that I haven't witnessed in weeks upon weeks.. there was not a single cloud in the sky. And I had to close my eyes to protect them from the gleaming sun. And I was warm. And it was finally summer.

The song, which closely resembles the theme of the day, is California Stars by Billy Bragg&Wilco.

All my friends are being stolen tomorrow! Sad. Missin' lots.

A Traitor to His Class

Stella has been really sick lately, and it scares me a lot. Probably more than it should, because she is old and cats tragically can't live as long as we can. Today my mom came home crying, after dropping her off at the kennel. She said that she can relate to Stella's discomfort (diabetes) and that she feels like an awful mother leaving Stella in this condition. It gives me that heavy feeling in my chest to think about how Stella feels being abandoned to a smelly tight cage for 11 days. It also gives me that heavy feeling to see my mother cry. She used to scarcely cry around us, but when she did I was convinced that something equivalent to the world ending had occurred. It sort of makes me panic to see the strongest, most chivalrous, and most confident woman in my life break down from sadness or fear. I really love my mom. 

On a less 'Debbie Downer' note- I GOT MY PERMIT TODAY! The Worcester RMV, what an odorous, depressing, crowded, uncomfortable, nerve racking, awful place. The man who helped me at the desk gave me two answers for the test, and I'm not sure I would have passed if it wasn't for him. Thank you Richard. Walking out of the place, I got straight up 'mmm girl'ed by some Lil' Wayne wanna-bees (what is the plural of a wanna be?). "Oh dayum lil' mammasita look at dem bootiful legs gurl mmm" Are these the types of men my mother is referring to when she says men are pigs who constantly have sex on their minds? I assume so. Good thing I have gentlemen-men in my life. 

I promised Jacqui that I would send her a picture of something pretty from C@L! every night. And I promised Bryan that I would send him a postcard. Bittersweet leaving.. :|

The song of the day is that one by The Dandy Warhols that I have yet to hear. Summa O9. 

Sanctuary and Head Lights

Last night we counted 91 mosquito bites on Lauren's body. Half of those mosquitos had entered Jacqui's house, and then proceeded to swarm my head as I slept. Do you know how aggravating it is to hear a dull "Buzzzzzz," around your ear when you are on the brink of falling into a deep, much needed sleep? I am so itchy.

Tonight Bryan and I went to Princeton to kidnap Joey and Emily out of the isolation of their forests. We went to the Corner Grill and had delish as a fish pizza. Tova, the woman who was working there, knew my mom. How do things like these always seem to happen? Seven degrees of separation! After aimlessly wandering around, trying to figure out what could occupy our bored selves, we decided that a cemetery on a thick foggy night is the perfect activity (???)

So, we somehow navigated ourselves through the dirt covered, winding roads of Princeton. I really do love Princeton. Its like an exclusive alcove of our region where the occupants are all intellectual, and the nature flourishes. Its not ruined by ridiculous things, such as THREE separate drugstores. Walgreens dumbasses. Anyways, tonight there was such a connection. We wandered around the eery swamps, forests, and cemeteries and embraced our unspoken appreciation for each other's company. The heavy fog blanket that engulfed us was spattered with tiny speckles of light, illuminating from the fireflies. I would not have been bothered one bit if I had to spend the night right there, frozen in the moment. 

I am leaving for California in two days, and the prospect of another life-changing summer vacation hasn't exactly sunk in yet. I am happy I will get to spend uninterrupted time with my dad and sister, since they have been somewhat absent from my life lately. 

I have so many emotions drowning my body right now. The album of the day is Graceland by Paul Simon. And the song of the day is Blackbird by The Beatles, because someone sings it real nicely!

And she said honey take me dancing

But they ended up by sleeping

In a doorway

By the bodegas and the lights on

Upper broadway

Wearing diamonds on the soles of their shoes. 

Honk for Justice

I woke up this morning earlier than I would have liked. This caused a 2 hour period of a dazed fog clouding my thoughts and judgement. It was good that I didn't need to use either of these things at 8 o'clock a.m on a Sunday. Anyways, my mom came rushing downstairs and bombarded me with a really absurd series of events. She was holding a Barbie doll that she had found in Phoebe's room (why does Phoebe have a Barbie doll in her room?) "Doesn't she look EXACTLY like Jacqui?!" This Hispanic plastic made-in-China doll held no resemblance to Jacqui. I find it kind of weird how someone can see something that another is completely blinded to. If that makes sense. Well, then she proceeded to prop up the Barbie in a sitting position, perched on the mounds of junk covering my desk. I really like when my mom is kind to inanimate objects. 

I successfully directed Bryan to Cafe Dolce! I think I will be good with directions when I can drive. If the day EVER comes. Joey has the coolest room and I am actually going to improve my own.. tomorrow. (And more so next year when I can take that damn dresser out and replace it with a desk.)

Sorry this entry is boring. The day-to-day life of summer is going to be less intellectual and thought filled than the school year's entries. I'm so tired that my contacts are clouding and my stomach aches.

Say Bye To Jeff

I really can't decide if I believe in ghosts or not. I am fairly sure that a huge part of my disbelief in them is my attempt to keep myself calm, on nights like tonight when my finger was being moved by a piece of plastic across a Wiji board. Parker's stories were so believable though. That, joined with the damp dark atmosphere, and the fact that we were sitting in a supposed haunted cemetery, made my insides tighten a little. I can tell this is going to be a summer filled with major "checks" off the to-do list. 

On my birthday yesterday, more than anyone, Lindsey made me feel special. She bought me strawberry and whipped cream covered waffles at KPs, and discretely asked the waitress to put a candle in them and sing to me. About 80% of the restaurant was filled with Wachusett kids, so I had a loud choir of voices singing Happy Birthday. I definitely got my fix of birthday glory. The day carried on with a glorious appearance from my friend the sun (who we haven't seen in weeks) and towering waves at Salsbury beach. I almost enjoy the ocean more when the water is cold, I think it pumps up my adrenaline level or something. As cliche as it is, I really do love the beach. So fresh and clean. 

Today was the end of the year Stuco party at Comet Pond. The last time I had been in that pond..... (*hidden shout out*) So, Bryan and I stopped at the grocery store on the way to the party, just to be the gems that we are and bring a snack. At the self-check out (which by the way is a great invention) Bryan decided to be wise guy and clicked the spanish version instead of english. Oh wait, neither of us speak spanish! So when it came time to put in our silver coin, we had to have a middle aged BigY worker aid us. Her comment on the 'sexiness' of the recorded spanish voice took me by surprise. Strangers seem to be surprisingly open when Bryan Diehl is around. I have yet to figure out why. The party was a lot of fun, aside from my failed attempt at knee-boarding. Lake water splashed up into my mouth, ears, nose, and eyes all while Josh Coyne was shouting over the load motor of the boat "EMILY YOU HAVE TO GET UP NOW. NOW. NOW EMILY" I eventually succeeded, but I don't think it was exactly worth the multiple down sides to the adventure. My arms are soar right now, just as I type. 

When I get back from California, I am going to go to the nursing home and ask if I can volunteer to keep the elderly company. After each day, I feel like a brand new load of facts, experiences, and general knowledge is being scribed into my memory. Imagine how much they must have, after 90 YEARS of these types of days. I am hoping that being around them will help me figure out which direction I would like to aim my life in. Although, a wise woman told me today that she is 69 and has still yet to determine what she wants to do with her life. This relived me from a lot of angst that I have been having over this matter lately. Thank you Madelin. 

Killing Nazi Zombies is not nearly as satisfying as it was built up to be. The song of the day is "Wake Up" by Arcade Fire, because silence and loud music is the best. 

There is nothing like a birthday to make you evaluate how sufficiently you are living your life. In the midst of my studying tonight I got slaughtered by thoughts of regrets, unfinished books, unchecked to-do lists, months wasted in conflicted relationships, and countless hours of procrastination, all while I was fifteen. Its like everything I know and am familiar to is coming to a rushing crescendo, and is soon going to be left behind into the deep abyss of my memory. I need to savor every second of it before I  venture off into the world of the unknown- sixteen.

 Today I had my first physical therapy appointment. My evaluator's name was Wendy, and she was a hockey mom. She made me sit in weird (and somewhat painful) positions, walk on my heels, and squat multiple times. Every time she would have a pre-cautious look on her face and make a "Huh.." noise, which made me worry that whatever it was she was seeing was abnormal. Then, she proceeded to lay me face down on the table, and massage my lower back with lotion. It's funny how quickly my lower back turned into my butt, which was now being massaged.. by a hockey mom. I don't know how I felt about this, but the fatigue from finals hit me and I was suddenly overwhelmingly tired and relaxed. I almost dozed off, while having a lady play masseuse towards my tush. 

 

I am going to count down the minutes until 12:15 when it will be A FISH, and throw a pre-party party with Phoebe. The song of the day is anything by Girl Talk, because it sure knows how to get you PU-mped. 

Hammocks and Puppies

This is William Keddy. Babies sure know how to brighten your day. I have spent the majority of this week stuffing dates and vocabulary and formulas into my brain. I feel lifeless and vacant of everything worth anything. I hope people don't find me boring. The song of the day is Brackett, WI by Bon Iver [shouuuutz to Joey!]

I Am Not A Hipster

Nothing so ridiculously teenage and desperate nothing so childish

At a better pace, slower and more calculated, no chance of escape

-Radiohead

Tonight, blogger is going to help me study for my waste-of-time-i-hate-you-ms.-lajko english final. In here, I will include (or attempt to include) 57 vocabulary words from The Glass Menagerie. Hopefully it will remain a important conglomeration of my day's events, not just a fiasco of pointless ranting. Sorry if I sound pretentious, but I need to spice up my study habits.

Today in Roberta's (Lajko) class, she confirmed my belief that it is her life's mission to beleaguer her students. Her natural tone of cynicism and general pessimistic view of human nature as a whole has made for multiple awkward moments. As I left the classroom, folder with study materials in hand, she halted my escape. "Emily, why are you taking your folder?"

"Uhh.. because I need the things in it to study for your final.."

"No. The folders stay in this room. You kids can't be trusted to bring them back"

"Well I need these papers to study from Ms. Lajko.." I said, decorously.

"Here, put the things you need in this manilla folder, you can take this home."

So, I proceeded to empty my ENTIRE folder, and place all of the contents into the manilla folder. Then, I handed her back my seasoned, dirty, tattered, empty folder, and left it there in desolation. I hope she realized, despairingly, how completely absurd and ridiculous her demands were. And since when am I too irresponsible to manage to bring something back to school? I hate being treated like a forgetful child. I am not one bit elegiac that tomorrow will be the last day I will ever have to endure her so called "teaching."

At around 6.30, I completed my art final. Sitting, stationary, for long periods of time makes my back cramp up. So, when I go to stand up right, I have to hobble around (highly resembling the Hunchback of Notre Dame) for about 20 seconds until I can straighten it, pain free. There is certainly no fluidity in this movement, but there seems to be no way around it. To grant myself the endowment of a short, dormant break from work, I went to lay flat on the living room floor and stare at the ceiling. Man, fatigue certainly hits you when you are horizontal. My Dad then entered the room, and decided to fit his tenuous body to emulate my relaxation technique. Laying side by side, I was reminded how much I admire and love my dad. He is an paragon in my life, and has probably taught me in more ways than anyone else, of how to pursue my life with vivacity. He sure knows how to be happier, fitter, and more productive. Like Thom Yorke.

"We don't do this often enough. You know this is a yoga pose?" he said, demurely. My Dad is a big fan or relaxation, and preventing the body from over-stressing itself. Its very assuring to think that an activity as simple as laying on the floor and starring at the ceiling can greatly improve your performance and attitude towards the day. The conversation shifted to muse about serious topics such as the troubles of being a vagrant hiker through Yosemite with a 40 pound pack and a back injury. And the fact that it is exceedingly difficult to receive funding for his grants nowadays. Neither of us were rhapsodic about these thoughts. Luckily, my mother induced me to come set the table for dinner. This saved us both from becoming deeply engulfed in these unwanted topics, but they still lurk in the back of my mind.

At the dinner table, Phoebe proceeded to inform the rents of the highly querulous topic- what it means to be labeled a "hipster." Jauntily, she told them she was not a hipster. Which, according to her definition of a hipster, means that she is indeed a hipster. Its alright Phoebe- just be giddy about it!

My homework seems to interminably stroll on. 2 days until my birthday/the extinction of school/ I become a fugitive of the summer.

Misty Walken

Today was so bland. I listened to The Stage Names by Okkervil River about 5 or 6 times consecutively, and didn't get bored once. Maybe biology had sucked all the boredom out of me, so there was none left. But anyways, it has been a long time since a song has actually made tears stream down my face. Today, Savannah Smiles triggered tears three times! I am not going to go into the details of why, because according to some lady on Oprah, there is no point in being upset over future anticipated sadness. August 31st will be a heart wrenching day. 

I am fully ready to nobly conquer 10th grade biology tomorrow.

Stinky Cheese Man

The bearers of all good things arrive

climb inside us, twist and cry

a kiss on your molten eyes.

Once again, I have found myself in this entrapment of not being able to force myself into studying. It just makes me want to release this soft whimpering sound, that says "Ahh don't think about what you should be doing right now.. because thats boring. Avoid. Work." All of my friends have seem to overcome this. Maybe my dawning moment will come tomorrow, where I suddenly have all the motivation in the world. Maybe. 

This morning Nina and I decided to be gems and get Bryan a donut while we were at Dunkin. He told us that he was mowing the lawn.. conveniently leaving out the small detail that he was not mowing his own easy access lawn, but instead someone's lawn 15 miles away in Paxton. So, being the geniuses we are, decided it was an extremely clever solution to wrap up the donut in napkins and leave it on Bryan's lawn. When we finally arrive back at my house, Bryan reminds us of the fact that dogs eating chocolate is often fatal. Bolt. We managed to make it back down to his house (on our bikes with impossibly deflated tires) before Lucky found it, success! We were so proud of ourselves! ..until I saw a single ant crawling across the napkin covering the donut. And then another. And then an entire cluster feasting on the sugar coated fried dough. The next few minutes consisted of screaming, frantic running in circles, and chucking the donut behind a tree. It was a noble effort, but Bryan never got a donut this morning. 

I babysat this evening and read a book called the Stinky Cheese Man, where the re-ocurring line read "Run, run as fast as you can, you can't catch me I'm the Stinky Cheese Man!" He ended up drowning to death, because he smelled so bad, that the fox who was carrying him across the river dropped him. I really felt bad for this fictional SCM. What an awful thing to do - let someone drown, for the soul reason that they are stinky. Shallow fox.

I AM GOING TO GET MY STUDY ON!! ...

Druggie Parental Upbringing

I absolutely adore my friends. Yesterday they gave me the feeling that Lester Burnham explained at the end of American Beauty when his heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst. I wonder how this happens, and why it gives me the somewhat nauseous feeling, but then "I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain. And I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life."  As previously quoted by all of my fellow concert-goers last night, we felt infinite. 

The adventure started with our splurge of independence. For one reason or another the train feels so liberating. And everything is so photogenic! I really love when I introduce music to someone, and they really listen. Like even listen to the tone of the voices, the lyrics, and the beats of the instruments. While listening to Let Down on the train with Emily Friedman, I knew she was doing this. And it made me so happy because its one of those feelings that you crave to share with someone, and I think she got it! She is great. Arriving in Boston, we sort of struggled with looking like natural Bostonians. Taking excess pictures, holding a map, and actually waiting for the crosswalk sign to turn green gave us the ultimate immature tourist image. But WHAT-EVS, we were way too excited to care one bit. We managed to navigate ourselves from the train station, to Urban Outfitters (vital stop while in Boston), and back to Atlantic Ave which eventually led to the Pavilion...

Nina made it just in time for Andrew Bird's entrance, and when I greeted her we couldn't stop ourselves from jumping up and down like crazy ladies. But- "Who cares? We are never going to see these people again." This became the motto of the night. Emily and I wanted to find a way to share our joy and excitement with the countless hipsters around us. There was one girl who wore her graduation cap and gown, and held a sign that said "I skipped my graduation for Andrew Bird!" For some reason its considered shocking, out of the ordinary, and somewhat creepy to talk to strangers. We wanted to break this boundary between us and our neighbors, so we decided to shout out the simplest thing we could guess about them; their name. As a result, we met Fred, Joe, Ben, Bryan, and Evan. Evan even approached us, instead of just exchanging embarrassed puzzled looks (like Fred, Ben, and Bryan.) Evan was half weirded-out, and half impressed that we obtained this skill. I was primarily impressed.  

ANDREW BIRD IS UNBELIEVABLE. I can't even comprehend how one man can be so talented. Words can't express his music, or his ability to perform, so the only thing I can do is strongly recommend and encourage everyone to listen him. When he ended with Don't Be Scared all I wanted to do is hold the hands of my friends next to me and tell them what beautiful people they are. Concerts like these are deeply inspirational. 

Nina slept over after and I was in one of the best moods I had been in a very long time. Probably comparable to the life-changing raft trip last summer. Anyways, I think a combination of this joyfulness and excess fatigue made for uncontrollable laughter. We were so so happy. 

I feel infinite. 

Rustic Pizza

I have a contagious back syndrome and if you come near me, your lumbar will shrink and you'll be in chronic pain for the rest of your life.

That isn't true, but if it was it would probably make me one of the loneliest people on the planet. I am really opposed to solitude, because I think I can find more out about myself when with company. Contrary to my mom's believe, there is a lot of time to "think breathe and relax" when with others. At least for me. 

Today I went to the Orthopedic Surgeon, and got x-rays taken of my lower back. I have some sort of pelvic condition that I was born with, which is causing this reoccurring stabbing pain. While sitting in the waiting room at the hospital (by the way, hospitals smell so bad) my mom made the strangest remark. She told me it didn't matter at all that my dress was on the short side, because pants aren't necessary when you have legs. Huh? Does that make sense? I'm not sure it does but I liked it anyways. 

I am glad my condition isn't contagious, because I don't want to be lonely.

Hump Day

Model UN is super intimidating -_-

Today I tried to figure out how pragmatic I am, or if I can force myself to be when necessary. Finals next week will closely resemble hell. 7 Days until SW33T 16 y@hO0!

Let Me Go On

Phoebe has been blogging now for five months and 15 days. Her blog has almost become part of the family, as we even have a cutesy nickname for it, 'POTD.' Lately, I realize that I label things in my day as "blog worthy" even though I didn't even have a blog of my own. I guess its about time I document all of these insignificant (in the long run) details of my life.

The majority of my morning was sub-par. I got scolded in gym class for not knowing how to tag up. How am I suppose to know what that is? Its not like Ms. Burton taught us the rules or anything. My back is getting progressively worse, which is totally contrary to what everyone is telling me should be happening. The shooting bolt of pain that exploded up my spine while I was taking my bio test made me feel like I was going to faint. Mary had to walk me to the nurse, and there I got to lay down and eat crackers. I continued the rest of my day as if nothing had happened, and only told a select few about my somewhat embarrassing episode. I guess if you are reading this you are one of the select few. 

I also had my last art long block, which was sentimental and too short. Two things made this a particularly enjoyable class: 1) Chris Coyne was playing his saxophone in the  room next door.  This is my second day in a row discovering that Chris Coyne is overwhelmingly talented,  how intimidating. And 2) My charcoal-drawn self portrait is turning out a lot better than I originally expected it to. In fact, everyone in the class has a portrait that is surprisingly close  in resemblance to their own appearance. This made me really proud.

After school I went to Elm Park and ate Cheez-Its and drank Arizona Iced Tea. I have had several events in the past couple of weeks that have led me into a summer mode, but I unfortunately am not allowed to be in this mode yet. Today though, I accepted it. Because school is almost over and this afternoon's fun was too great to ignore. 

Phoebe got mad at me again for wearing her clothes without asking. I really am going to stop doing this, because I feel like I am throwing away valuable time with her when we fight.