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.