28 February 2007
♥ ONLY 3 MORE MONTHS!
I am SO getting my passport renewed Friday.
P.S. I can't WAIT to go to Europe.
P.S. I can't WAIT to go to Europe.
2/28/2007
♥ maybe ambiguity isn't so bad, after all.
The attention is going straight to my head, but for once that's not such a bad thing; I think my ego could use a little inflation. And anyway, it's what, two months away? I've got awhile to mull it over.
I don't have as many eyes as things I've got eyes on, but that's okay. I haven't been accused recently of lacking in the charm department. Well, actually, I have, but I've chosen to ignore it. I never liked you that much, anyway, and besides, I'd rather say what's on my mind than sugar-coat everything.
Moral of the story: I think I'll end up where I want to be in the end.
The only problem is, the end isn't quite in sight yet.
I don't have as many eyes as things I've got eyes on, but that's okay. I haven't been accused recently of lacking in the charm department. Well, actually, I have, but I've chosen to ignore it. I never liked you that much, anyway, and besides, I'd rather say what's on my mind than sugar-coat everything.
Moral of the story: I think I'll end up where I want to be in the end.
The only problem is, the end isn't quite in sight yet.
2/28/2007
25 February 2007
♥ beauty is overrated.
Only a little, though. I wonder if you can see this coming?
Ready, go.
Ready, go.
2/25/2007
22 February 2007
♥ post number eleventy-one.
I guess that's not really such an occasion, but I think it's kind of a cool number.
Meanwhile, I'm beginning to doubt whether anyone's blogs are actually worth reading anymore. I mean, not that I think this one is [I know, I know: my random angsty mutterings are hardly of interest to anyone other than myself], but I think maybe it's all just a big dumb ego trip. [Thanks for the heads up on that one, Alli.]
It kind of seems like everyone's little mind-windows produce nothing but drama. Oh, and did I mention more drama? And possibly a little more drama.
Perhaps rather than posting our deepest secrets for all the world to see, we should act like mature members of civilized society and just keep things to ourselves.
I mean, of course I realize the point of a blog: it lets you express yourself, get things off your chest, vent a little without forcing anyone in particular to listen. But there's a fine line between gossip and slander, and I've been noticing lately that nearly every blogger [god, I hate that word] I know is crossing the line between privacy and perversion.
When I read that, I realized that I wouldn't want to find out that way. I don't want to read anything about what's going on with me on someone else's blog that I don't already know. I don't want to feel my blood run cold when I realize it's me they're talking about.
Um... can we stop acting like high schoolers, please? Some of you only have another semester to go, and I'm terrified to think about how it's going to be when you get into the real world.
Seriously, grow up.
Meanwhile, I'm beginning to doubt whether anyone's blogs are actually worth reading anymore. I mean, not that I think this one is [I know, I know: my random angsty mutterings are hardly of interest to anyone other than myself], but I think maybe it's all just a big dumb ego trip. [Thanks for the heads up on that one, Alli.]
It kind of seems like everyone's little mind-windows produce nothing but drama. Oh, and did I mention more drama? And possibly a little more drama.
Perhaps rather than posting our deepest secrets for all the world to see, we should act like mature members of civilized society and just keep things to ourselves.
I mean, of course I realize the point of a blog: it lets you express yourself, get things off your chest, vent a little without forcing anyone in particular to listen. But there's a fine line between gossip and slander, and I've been noticing lately that nearly every blogger [god, I hate that word] I know is crossing the line between privacy and perversion.
When I read that, I realized that I wouldn't want to find out that way. I don't want to read anything about what's going on with me on someone else's blog that I don't already know. I don't want to feel my blood run cold when I realize it's me they're talking about.
Um... can we stop acting like high schoolers, please? Some of you only have another semester to go, and I'm terrified to think about how it's going to be when you get into the real world.
Seriously, grow up.
2/22/2007
19 February 2007
♥ in case you ever take your kids,
Don't forget: just because animals live at the zoo doesn't mean you don't have to obey general rules of etiquette, like just because you say "excuse me" doesn't mean whoever was there first has to get out of your way. I wasn't done looking at Marshall the Retarded Fish yet.
2/19/2007
18 February 2007
♥ finally fifteen again
Last post of the day, I promise.
1. It scares me a little how right you are.
2. I hate almost everything about you, but for some reason, I think I kind of admire you. That's so annoying.
3. I want to beat you up, a little. Seriously, knock it the hell off.
4. I wonder if you'd be as interesting if I got to know you as you are when I don't.
5. This is seriously the last thing I need right now. Wait. Actually, come to think of it, maybe this situation will evoke the desired reaction from a certain third party. Wait again. Who am I kidding?
6. Maybe I should stop kidding myself and just accept that it's time. But I don't want it to be time. Things will get better, right?
7. I can't stand how much I miss you. This goes against everything I believe in. [Everyone's going to take this one much more seriously than it's meant.]
8. You're full of yourself, but maybe that's what I like about you.
9. I can't help you anymore, and it actually is because I don't want to.
10. The fact that you turned out to be pretty cool makes me feel kind of like an asshole. Oh, well. At least I know better now, right?
11. It pains me to admit this, but I'm actually quite fond of you. Like you didn't already know. [Applies to 2.]
12. I really hope this is a joke.
13. You know you're stuck, right? She'll kill you (or someone else will) if you try to leave.
14. There, now you're getting the hang of it. I think you knew how all along, though. For the record, being nice doesn't make you whipped.
15. Thanks for making me glad to be me. I didn't expect this from you at all, but it feels... nice.
1. It scares me a little how right you are.
2. I hate almost everything about you, but for some reason, I think I kind of admire you. That's so annoying.
3. I want to beat you up, a little. Seriously, knock it the hell off.
4. I wonder if you'd be as interesting if I got to know you as you are when I don't.
5. This is seriously the last thing I need right now. Wait. Actually, come to think of it, maybe this situation will evoke the desired reaction from a certain third party. Wait again. Who am I kidding?
6. Maybe I should stop kidding myself and just accept that it's time. But I don't want it to be time. Things will get better, right?
7. I can't stand how much I miss you. This goes against everything I believe in. [Everyone's going to take this one much more seriously than it's meant.]
8. You're full of yourself, but maybe that's what I like about you.
9. I can't help you anymore, and it actually is because I don't want to.
10. The fact that you turned out to be pretty cool makes me feel kind of like an asshole. Oh, well. At least I know better now, right?
11. It pains me to admit this, but I'm actually quite fond of you. Like you didn't already know. [Applies to 2.]
12. I really hope this is a joke.
13. You know you're stuck, right? She'll kill you (or someone else will) if you try to leave.
14. There, now you're getting the hang of it. I think you knew how all along, though. For the record, being nice doesn't make you whipped.
15. Thanks for making me glad to be me. I didn't expect this from you at all, but it feels... nice.
2/18/2007
♥ hypothetically speaking, of course
Would you say that all of it applies directly to us?
2/18/2007
♥ *teen girl squad voice* mock trialed!
It was, surprisingly, really fun. I mean, most people wouldn't describe eight hours in a courtroom over the course of two days as "fun," but it was. I even cried, thereby securing myself an outstanding witness nomination. Like real salty tears and everything. That's right, reading about internal bleeding gets me all choked up. You know you're jealous. Actually, the best part of the tournament was seeing the captain of the Ralston Valley varsity team having to wipe that shit-eating smirk off his face when Lakewood freaking owned his cocky team.
Anyway, I'm getting to that weird place that I always get to this time of year. It's mid-February, and I'm bored with pretty much everything in my life. I'm sick of all the restaurants we always eat at, I'm sick of my dumb job, I'm sick of my favorite classes. I haven't done homework at home in, like, weeks. I'm in that in-between-winter-and-spring season, and nothing seems even remotely engaging. I guess that's why they say February is the cruelest month, right? It feels like spring should be getting the show on the road, but you're jumping the gun, tiger: you've got another two months to go.
I keep hoping something will spark my interest: college campus visits, the possibility of that internship at the Post, the mysterious note in my pocket after the Shins concert. As interesting as those things would normally seem, thought, I feel entirely apathetic about all of them. It's not that I don't have fun in certain settings--at school, with friends, you get the drift--but that everything is intensifying in its complication, and that there are three more months until we get a break from this whole thing.
Okay, I'm going to talk myself in circles now. I won't be offended if my readers skip over the next few paragraphs, because unless I'm struck by an unexpected bout of creativity, I don't think I'm going to say anything I haven't before.
There's no reason I shouldn't be happy. I have groovy friends, a stable family life, a decent (albeit somewhat annoying) job, and I'm even relatively talented in a few (okay, one) area(s?). I have a lot to look forward to: that trip to the British Isles this summer, a promotion to editor-in-chief in the fall, and, with the understanding that I manage to stay out of motor-related trouble for the next couple of months, a summer with a car.
But those things all seem so far away. And some of the things I think I can't wait for are, under closer scrutiny, absolutely terrifying. F'rinstance: college. God, I can't wait for college. I can't wait to get out of stupid high school and all the petty little things that go with it. I can't wait to stay out as late as I want with whomever I want and say "fuck" out loud at home and let my living space get as deliciously messy as I want.
On the flipside, I'm completely frozen in terror at the prospect. What will I do without all these amazing people I've met? Not just the people who are basically extensions of me, like Kayla and Alli, but the people I want to get to know better. The people who make me laugh in the middle of an especially soul-crushing Spanish class, the people who make my otherwise somewhat mundane life that much more interesting.
Honestly, as lame as I know this might sound, I've never been away from my family for more than a week or so at a time. Maybe it's caused the lack of siblings, but whatever it is, my mom is basically my best friend. Even though I can't stand her sometimes, I know I'm going to miss her when I can't just come home from school and tell her every minute detail of my day. What if I stay in state and wish I had left to see the world? What if I'm stuck in Colorado forever? What if I go out of state and die of lonelienss and can't make any new friends? What if I've already found all the people I need?
I know you can keep in touch with the people who matter most to you. I know that if you really want to, it's possible to remain friends with someone years after you go your separate ways. But it's not the same. Even if you call them occasionally or have lunch every month, someone who was once your best friend becomes a stranger. Soon you're forgetting their siblings' names and wondering if they have a boyfriend and racking your brains to remember if they ever did make the swim team this year. It's not that you don't like them or that you don't care about them, but it's not the same when you don't see them every day. You can't share your every triumph and downfall, because they don't know any of the people or places you're talking about. Everything changes.
But is change really that bad? Because the more I think about how I don't want any of it to end, the more I realize that it has to. Of course I can't stay in high school forever, and anyway, why in the world would I want to? I'm sick of the drama, the secrets, the fact that nothing stays a secret, everything. But I don't know what I'm going to do when I have to leave it all behind.
Anyway, I'm getting to that weird place that I always get to this time of year. It's mid-February, and I'm bored with pretty much everything in my life. I'm sick of all the restaurants we always eat at, I'm sick of my dumb job, I'm sick of my favorite classes. I haven't done homework at home in, like, weeks. I'm in that in-between-winter-and-spring season, and nothing seems even remotely engaging. I guess that's why they say February is the cruelest month, right? It feels like spring should be getting the show on the road, but you're jumping the gun, tiger: you've got another two months to go.
I keep hoping something will spark my interest: college campus visits, the possibility of that internship at the Post, the mysterious note in my pocket after the Shins concert. As interesting as those things would normally seem, thought, I feel entirely apathetic about all of them. It's not that I don't have fun in certain settings--at school, with friends, you get the drift--but that everything is intensifying in its complication, and that there are three more months until we get a break from this whole thing.
Okay, I'm going to talk myself in circles now. I won't be offended if my readers skip over the next few paragraphs, because unless I'm struck by an unexpected bout of creativity, I don't think I'm going to say anything I haven't before.
There's no reason I shouldn't be happy. I have groovy friends, a stable family life, a decent (albeit somewhat annoying) job, and I'm even relatively talented in a few (okay, one) area(s?). I have a lot to look forward to: that trip to the British Isles this summer, a promotion to editor-in-chief in the fall, and, with the understanding that I manage to stay out of motor-related trouble for the next couple of months, a summer with a car.
But those things all seem so far away. And some of the things I think I can't wait for are, under closer scrutiny, absolutely terrifying. F'rinstance: college. God, I can't wait for college. I can't wait to get out of stupid high school and all the petty little things that go with it. I can't wait to stay out as late as I want with whomever I want and say "fuck" out loud at home and let my living space get as deliciously messy as I want.
On the flipside, I'm completely frozen in terror at the prospect. What will I do without all these amazing people I've met? Not just the people who are basically extensions of me, like Kayla and Alli, but the people I want to get to know better. The people who make me laugh in the middle of an especially soul-crushing Spanish class, the people who make my otherwise somewhat mundane life that much more interesting.
Honestly, as lame as I know this might sound, I've never been away from my family for more than a week or so at a time. Maybe it's caused the lack of siblings, but whatever it is, my mom is basically my best friend. Even though I can't stand her sometimes, I know I'm going to miss her when I can't just come home from school and tell her every minute detail of my day. What if I stay in state and wish I had left to see the world? What if I'm stuck in Colorado forever? What if I go out of state and die of lonelienss and can't make any new friends? What if I've already found all the people I need?
I know you can keep in touch with the people who matter most to you. I know that if you really want to, it's possible to remain friends with someone years after you go your separate ways. But it's not the same. Even if you call them occasionally or have lunch every month, someone who was once your best friend becomes a stranger. Soon you're forgetting their siblings' names and wondering if they have a boyfriend and racking your brains to remember if they ever did make the swim team this year. It's not that you don't like them or that you don't care about them, but it's not the same when you don't see them every day. You can't share your every triumph and downfall, because they don't know any of the people or places you're talking about. Everything changes.
But is change really that bad? Because the more I think about how I don't want any of it to end, the more I realize that it has to. Of course I can't stay in high school forever, and anyway, why in the world would I want to? I'm sick of the drama, the secrets, the fact that nothing stays a secret, everything. But I don't know what I'm going to do when I have to leave it all behind.
2/18/2007
11 February 2007
♥ yep, that should do it.
I want:
a pretty song.
city lights at night.
an aimless drive.
a poignant silence.
[the good kind]
that magic moment.
[you know the sort]
a perfect secret.
warmer weather.
to show you what i mean.
that trip.
a quiet afternoon.
this.
[i want this]
straight to the point:
you.
a pretty song.
city lights at night.
an aimless drive.
a poignant silence.
[the good kind]
that magic moment.
[you know the sort]
a perfect secret.
warmer weather.
to show you what i mean.
that trip.
a quiet afternoon.
this.
[i want this]
straight to the point:
you.
2/11/2007
♥ that sounds about right.
Hey there Delilah
What's it like in New York City?
I'm a thousand miles away
But girl, tonight you look so pretty
Yes you do
Times Square can't shine as bright as you
I swear it's true
Hey there Delilah
Don't you worry about the distance
I'm right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice it's my disguise
I'm by your side
Oh, it's what you do to me
What you do to me
Hey there Delilah
I know times are getting hard
But just believe me girl
Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar
We'll have it good
We'll have the life we knew we would
My word is good
Hey there Delilah
I've got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I'd write it all
Even more in love with me you'd fall
We'd have it all
Oh, it's what you do to me
A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they've got planes and trains and cars
I'd walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
and we'll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way
Delilah I can promise you
That by the time we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you're to blame
Hey there Delilah
You be good and don't you miss me
Two more years and you'll be done with school
And I'll be making history like I do
You know it's all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
Hey there Delilah here's to you
This one's for you
Oh, it's what you do to me
What you do to me
What's it like in New York City?
I'm a thousand miles away
But girl, tonight you look so pretty
Yes you do
Times Square can't shine as bright as you
I swear it's true
Hey there Delilah
Don't you worry about the distance
I'm right there if you get lonely
Give this song another listen
Close your eyes
Listen to my voice it's my disguise
I'm by your side
Oh, it's what you do to me
What you do to me
Hey there Delilah
I know times are getting hard
But just believe me girl
Someday I'll pay the bills with this guitar
We'll have it good
We'll have the life we knew we would
My word is good
Hey there Delilah
I've got so much left to say
If every simple song I wrote to you
Would take your breath away
I'd write it all
Even more in love with me you'd fall
We'd have it all
Oh, it's what you do to me
A thousand miles seems pretty far
But they've got planes and trains and cars
I'd walk to you if I had no other way
Our friends would all make fun of us
and we'll just laugh along because we know
That none of them have felt this way
Delilah I can promise you
That by the time we get through
The world will never ever be the same
And you're to blame
Hey there Delilah
You be good and don't you miss me
Two more years and you'll be done with school
And I'll be making history like I do
You know it's all because of you
We can do whatever we want to
Hey there Delilah here's to you
This one's for you
Oh, it's what you do to me
What you do to me
2/11/2007
08 February 2007
♥ a startling revelation. [the good kind.]
You know that feeling you get when you do something you love for a really long time, and then you get burned out on it? It's the worst feeling in the world. You feel like you've lost a friend, like you're not a child anymore, like your entire life is changing and you have absolutely no control over it.
Lately I've felt like that with newspaper. I'm sick of all the drama, I'm sick of everyone's creativity being squelched. I'm sick of the whole damn thing.
But tonight, for the first time in almost a year, I remember why I love it. I'm all alone in the debate room, and the lights are off except for my speedy G5. The loveliest symphony you can imagine is playing quietly in the background, and, most importantly, there's no one here to bother me. No noisy underclassmen or bossy peers. Just me and my page.
As nerdy as I know this is going to sound, there's something really relaxing about watching a page come together. I can see the shapes, the words, and right where they're all going to go. My only limit is my own creativity.
When nothing else in my life seems to be going right, this will always be here. I can always fall back on this, my one talent. It may be underdeveloped, I may not use it like I should, but someday, I'm going to make it my life.
I guess my life is stretching out in front of me, and all I have to do is figure out where the hell I'm going. But it's nights like this when I feel hopeful and fresh, remembering all those old dreams and hoping some of them come true. I want to be one of those ground-breaking journalists who makes big changes and whom no one forgets. I want to be like Edward Murrow, Carl Bernstein, Bob Woodward, Helen Thomas. I want to make the news just as much as I want to write it.
With a little luck and a lot of student loans, I'll be writing for a big-time paper someday. For now, though, I'll have to settle for editing the Spectator, and I guess, for now, that's good enough for me.
Tonight will be a good night.
Lately I've felt like that with newspaper. I'm sick of all the drama, I'm sick of everyone's creativity being squelched. I'm sick of the whole damn thing.
But tonight, for the first time in almost a year, I remember why I love it. I'm all alone in the debate room, and the lights are off except for my speedy G5. The loveliest symphony you can imagine is playing quietly in the background, and, most importantly, there's no one here to bother me. No noisy underclassmen or bossy peers. Just me and my page.
As nerdy as I know this is going to sound, there's something really relaxing about watching a page come together. I can see the shapes, the words, and right where they're all going to go. My only limit is my own creativity.
When nothing else in my life seems to be going right, this will always be here. I can always fall back on this, my one talent. It may be underdeveloped, I may not use it like I should, but someday, I'm going to make it my life.
I guess my life is stretching out in front of me, and all I have to do is figure out where the hell I'm going. But it's nights like this when I feel hopeful and fresh, remembering all those old dreams and hoping some of them come true. I want to be one of those ground-breaking journalists who makes big changes and whom no one forgets. I want to be like Edward Murrow, Carl Bernstein, Bob Woodward, Helen Thomas. I want to make the news just as much as I want to write it.
With a little luck and a lot of student loans, I'll be writing for a big-time paper someday. For now, though, I'll have to settle for editing the Spectator, and I guess, for now, that's good enough for me.
Tonight will be a good night.
2/08/2007
