29 December 2007
♥ weekends at home are no good for a panda:
All that thinking tends to get me rather worked up. I guess we'll see how it goes.
12/29/2007
♥ there's this thing called "boundaries"...
Back off, bitch.
12/29/2007
28 December 2007
♥ karma's a bitch!
What goes around comes around, and you better hope karma's forgotten what you did, you worthless piece of elephant dung.
12/28/2007
♥ fat chance of that.
It's a lot easier to stay away from someone when they're doing their best to make your life miserable. Even when you know no one else likes them, it's hard not to worry that the whole world is calling you dirty names.
Sometimes I wish he, and everyone else, would just grow up.
Sometimes I wish he, and everyone else, would just grow up.
12/28/2007
♥ it's a little lonely.
Goodnight
sleep tight
stranger
sleep tight
stranger
Sleeping alone isn't so bad when everything's okay... But what about when it's not?
12/28/2007
26 December 2007
♥ ingrid michaelson is just ever so cute.
'Cause I love the way you say good morning
and you take me the way I am
and you take me the way I am
12/26/2007
25 December 2007
♥ hello, shopping spree!
Christmas is nice because it means that in the coming months, a little retail therapy is just a swipe away. God, I love shopping.
12/25/2007
24 December 2007
♥ it's christmas eve!
I'm going to bed early so Santa has PLENTY of time to deliver all my presents!
12/24/2007
♥ maybe then i'll be a little cheerier
As much as I like Christmas, I'm ready for spring. It doesn't take long for me to get sick of being cold all the time, and in mid-December, I've already met my threshold. And day after day of gloomy weather just doesn't really do it for me. It's depressing, you know?
I think I need a warmer climate.
I think I need a warmer climate.
12/24/2007
♥ einer dieser Tage werde ich lernen.
Ich wünsche, dass ich die Sprache meiner Vorfahren sprechen konnte. Ich bin von einem Misserfolg in diesem Sinn freundlich.
12/24/2007
23 December 2007
♥ i don't deal well with stress.
I am not really a big fan of my parents at this particular moment. Well, that's not entirely accurate, it's my dad in particular that I'm not really rooting for. I think it's way more acceptable for me to act like an adolescent than it is for him, since at 18 I am technically still a teenager and at 45, he is decidedly not.
Ugh! The holidays are such a pain in the ass.
Ugh! The holidays are such a pain in the ass.
12/23/2007
22 December 2007
♥ you know what's really confusing?
Calculus.
Donnie Darko.
Rocket science.
Conflict in the Middle East.
The Odyssey.
Family politics.
Politics in general.
Nuclear proliferation.
But most of all,
boys.
Boys are really confusing.
Donnie Darko.
Rocket science.
Conflict in the Middle East.
The Odyssey.
Family politics.
Politics in general.
Nuclear proliferation.
But most of all,
boys.
Boys are really confusing.
12/22/2007
♥ you may wanna pass this one on
Snow is much prettier then next morning than when you're driving in it in the middle of the night.
12/22/2007
21 December 2007
♥ summer lovin' had me a blast.
There's nothing to be ashamed of. I don't know what they're teaching you up there, but it's okay to know what you want, and it's okay to get it. What we had was dirty, sexy; raw and real. It was that inexplicable thing: the purest of attractions: sheer physical beauty, the kind that left you captivated, motionless, until the world around us disappeared and it was nothing but you and me. We could experience pleasure, pain, and anything between: for those nights, those moments of ecstasy and euphoria, we were the masters of our own fate; we were bound only by our own carnality. And when summer ended, and it was time for you to go, I was left with your memory: the way you smell, taste, the touch that left me shivering in the dark. Nothing can change what happened, and nothing ever should. Those hot summer nights at the pool, the places we found ourselves when we least expected it, the things you whispered in my ear, are things we shouldn't ever forget. I've moved on with my life and you've moved on with yours, but this was no accident. We are captains of the rest of our lives, and no one else will ever be the wiser.
12/21/2007
20 December 2007
♥ take that, transpiration!
Ha! I'm done with biology forever and ever! Or at least for a few weeks. In any case, I never want to hear about stupid rates of transpiration again.
12/20/2007
♥ a few things i'm done with.
Fuck drama and jealousy.
Fuck trying to fit in.
Fuck lying and cheating.
Fuck finals week. Life's just a big test anyway.
Fuck bad hair days.
Fuck feeling fat at the gym.
Fuck rejections and deferrals. In fact, fuck getting into college.
Fuck unrequited love.
Fuck bad moods.
Fuck chronic headaches.
Fuck pretending to be someone I'm not.
Fuck waiting by the phone when you know he's not going to call.
Fuck casserole; I hate casserole.
Fuck being unhealthy.
Fuck transpiration. Plants are stupid.
Fuck letting them come to you: you gotta make the first move.
Fuck "maybe."
Fuck KOSI 101. Fuck those smarmy, poppy Christmas carols.
Fuck intolerance.
Fuck denial.
Fuck Dr. Phil; he doesn't know a damn thing about me.
Fuck stress.
Fuck balancing your time, why can't we all just be friends?
Fuck gossip and rifts and fallings out.
Fuck boredom.
Fuck ignorance.
Fuck bitterness and cruelty.
Fuck Theory of Knowledge.
Fuck this whole semester.
Fuck missing everyone.
Fuck feeling alone.
Fuck misunderstanding and miscommunication.
Fuck damnation and redemption.
Because maybe, just maybe, we're all in this together.
Fuck trying to fit in.
Fuck lying and cheating.
Fuck finals week. Life's just a big test anyway.
Fuck bad hair days.
Fuck feeling fat at the gym.
Fuck rejections and deferrals. In fact, fuck getting into college.
Fuck unrequited love.
Fuck bad moods.
Fuck chronic headaches.
Fuck pretending to be someone I'm not.
Fuck waiting by the phone when you know he's not going to call.
Fuck casserole; I hate casserole.
Fuck being unhealthy.
Fuck transpiration. Plants are stupid.
Fuck letting them come to you: you gotta make the first move.
Fuck "maybe."
Fuck KOSI 101. Fuck those smarmy, poppy Christmas carols.
Fuck intolerance.
Fuck denial.
Fuck Dr. Phil; he doesn't know a damn thing about me.
Fuck stress.
Fuck balancing your time, why can't we all just be friends?
Fuck gossip and rifts and fallings out.
Fuck boredom.
Fuck ignorance.
Fuck bitterness and cruelty.
Fuck Theory of Knowledge.
Fuck this whole semester.
Fuck missing everyone.
Fuck feeling alone.
Fuck misunderstanding and miscommunication.
Fuck damnation and redemption.
Because maybe, just maybe, we're all in this together.
12/20/2007
19 December 2007
♥ *angst-stricken whining* whyyyy?
Why am I so infinitely much more popular when I'm taken, taken, taken?! This is getting a little ridiculous... I'm beginning to think it's a conspiracy or something.
12/19/2007
♥ ah, finals...
You're terrible, but at least you're almost over.
Let's just forget about my score on that bio test... Whoops.
Let's just forget about my score on that bio test... Whoops.
12/19/2007
18 December 2007
♥ it could always be worse.
Applying to college sucks, finals suck, reruns of the saddest Scrubs episodes suck, fighting with my parents sucks, the fact that I'm gonna be up forever and ever tonight sucks.
But there's at least one thing that doesn't suck at all, not in the least.
Matt. I love, love, love you.
But there's at least one thing that doesn't suck at all, not in the least.
Matt. I love, love, love you.
12/18/2007
17 December 2007
♥ bummed.
Being deferred to the regular decision applicant pool at Northeastern might not have been so disappointing if it wasn't my top choice school.
But it is.
But it is.
12/17/2007
♥ gonna cuss on the mic tonight
I hate knowing that the biggest liar, the biggest creep, the biggest jerk in the world is at my school right now, and that I'm not allowed to be there because of it.
Then again, it's pretty satisfying that he doesn't get to visit all his teachers, he doesn't get to tour the new school, he doesn't get to be a normal college freshman, and it's all because he fucked up. What goes around comes around, and I'm not about to let him forget it.
Fuck you.
Then again, it's pretty satisfying that he doesn't get to visit all his teachers, he doesn't get to tour the new school, he doesn't get to be a normal college freshman, and it's all because he fucked up. What goes around comes around, and I'm not about to let him forget it.
Fuck you.
12/17/2007
♥ febreeze is NOT work. it's just not.
I like to watch trashy television as I do my homework. It's not what you think; I don't just need a little distraction. More importantly, I find that watching reality TV encourages me to finish my homework because if I graduate high school, I will not ever end up vying for the affections of Bret Michaels or Flava Flav. It's what we call tough love.
Tonight, after the conclusion of I Love New York 2, I was feeling a bit discouraged--can you believe she picked stupid Tailor Made over sexy, sexy Buddha?! Then again, I felt reassured at the idea that Buddha was back on the market. As I was struggling with my conflicted feelings for Buddha, however, I realized a disturbing trend in home-scent marketing.
A new Febreeze commercial depicts a homely sort of man in a lazy boy. He's obviously been there awhile, because there is a crumbling gingerbread house in his lap, and the rest of the house looks as though it could use some serious redecoration. But what's this? His wife, who has apparently been Christmas shopping, arrives home and can't believe her lazy ass of a husband hasn't done a damn thing to decorate the house! Not to fear, he lights a Febreeze holiday candle, and the old nag is immediately diverted from her relentless quest for holiday cheer.
Another Febreeze commercial begins with a strikingly similar situation, except this time they're starting 'em younger: a teenage boy, who looks eerily like my younger cousin, is playing Call of Duty as his haggard parents set up for some sort of holiday hullaballoo. The boy's mother asks him to puh-lease help his father decorate fro the party, and Dopey McGunnerbutt sprays--what's this?--some holiday-themed Febreeze! His nagging mother instantly lays off.
What really disturbs me about these commercials is that they're encouraging an already lazy demographic--men--to continue to not do anything. Febreeze holiday candles and nasty spray represent what is quite possibly the first time a bunch of men have come together to form a viable conspiracy. Ironically, though not unexpectedly, it's in the name of laziness.
Everyone knows that certain jobs are, plain and simply, boy jobs: anything to do with fires or ladders, including putting up Christmas lights, and also heavy lifting, such as of boxes full of decorations. But don't get too comfy, boys; we're onto you. Whipping out the Febreeze candles, which smell like shit, is not going to cut it.
Tonight, after the conclusion of I Love New York 2, I was feeling a bit discouraged--can you believe she picked stupid Tailor Made over sexy, sexy Buddha?! Then again, I felt reassured at the idea that Buddha was back on the market. As I was struggling with my conflicted feelings for Buddha, however, I realized a disturbing trend in home-scent marketing.
A new Febreeze commercial depicts a homely sort of man in a lazy boy. He's obviously been there awhile, because there is a crumbling gingerbread house in his lap, and the rest of the house looks as though it could use some serious redecoration. But what's this? His wife, who has apparently been Christmas shopping, arrives home and can't believe her lazy ass of a husband hasn't done a damn thing to decorate the house! Not to fear, he lights a Febreeze holiday candle, and the old nag is immediately diverted from her relentless quest for holiday cheer.
Another Febreeze commercial begins with a strikingly similar situation, except this time they're starting 'em younger: a teenage boy, who looks eerily like my younger cousin, is playing Call of Duty as his haggard parents set up for some sort of holiday hullaballoo. The boy's mother asks him to puh-lease help his father decorate fro the party, and Dopey McGunnerbutt sprays--what's this?--some holiday-themed Febreeze! His nagging mother instantly lays off.
What really disturbs me about these commercials is that they're encouraging an already lazy demographic--men--to continue to not do anything. Febreeze holiday candles and nasty spray represent what is quite possibly the first time a bunch of men have come together to form a viable conspiracy. Ironically, though not unexpectedly, it's in the name of laziness.
Everyone knows that certain jobs are, plain and simply, boy jobs: anything to do with fires or ladders, including putting up Christmas lights, and also heavy lifting, such as of boxes full of decorations. But don't get too comfy, boys; we're onto you. Whipping out the Febreeze candles, which smell like shit, is not going to cut it.
12/17/2007
16 December 2007
♥ *sigh*
Nothing can make me feel fatter and more out of shape than going to the gym. Turns out, while gaining weight involves no work (all I have to do is sit around and not exercise ANY self-control!), shedding those unwanted pounds is a long and arduous process. It's impossible not to be reminded of this when I run for half an hour, weigh myself, and discover that I weigh only half a pound less than I did before. That's like... the difference in scale calibration. And the worst part is that when I come home, I'm starving! There is cake from Lexi in the fridge, and my mom made chili last night, and I just want to come home and stand in front of the fridge eating, eating, eating. But no. I can't. Because then my whole workout would be a waste. So I settle for some fruit leather instead. Stefen always eats it; it must be good for you! And it must be, because it tastes like shit. Nothing this nasty can be bad for you. I ate two. They were both gross. I thought maybe raspberry would be less gross than apricot, because actual raspberries are way less nasty than actual apricots. This was not the case. Then, instead of drinking something delicious, like Dr Pepper, I settled for some water. Mmm, good old h-two-oh! (My New Year's resolution is always something like "drink more water," because that is [a] healthy and [b] subjective, so if I don't do it, nobody can call me on it. Ha!) That wasn't satisfying either. You know what I really want? I really want a big bowl of my mom's chili. (Or a big bowl of something else... Ahem. But I can't do that, because then I will get the munchies. Fuck!) But then I'll be right back where I started, and all that running and lifting and hours of misery at the gym will be for naught.
I hate being healthy.
I hate being healthy.
12/16/2007
15 December 2007
♥ and you know who that song reminds me of
It's funny how easily I find myself sucked into the past. It doesn't take much for me to start reminiscing about all the things I used to have, the people I used to know, and from there it only gets worse.
It's funny how alone I can feel in a room full of familiar faces. Pretty soon the voices are far away, and I'm there but I'm not, and all I can think about are the things I've tried the hardest to forget.
It's funny how effortlessly I find myself in the midst of a nasty fight with my mother. In my desperation to get along with her, sometimes it seems like yelling is all I know how to do.
It's funny how being angry turns into being sad. I don't want to feel this way, it's just that I'm beginning to worry that maybe she was right; maybe it really was my fault.
It's funny how hard it is for me to just trust you. I know that what happened doesn't have anything to do with you, and I realize how unfair it is that you walked in just as I was picking up the pieces.
It's funny how no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to forget the people who have made my life so beautiful and miserable at the same time. I can't quite decide how thinking of them makes me feel, but that doesn't seem to stop me.
It's funny how falling in love can be so terrifying and yet so wonderful. Maybe it's because I know that no matter how perfect things seem at first, it always ends the same way: with someone's heart or another in pieces.
It's funny how jealousy can change a person. I know you don't want what he has, but you can't seem to help yourself, can you?
It's funny how seeing the people who remind you of someone else hurts almost as much as seeing them. Seeing her face every day makes me feel like he's always watching me. I hate that he's still there, biding his time, lurking in the background.
It's funny how being alone is when I feel closest to everyone. I guess it's because that's when I feel most like me.
It's funny how Brand New was right all along: I feel like my life is full of the quiet things that no one ever knows.
It's funny how alone I can feel in a room full of familiar faces. Pretty soon the voices are far away, and I'm there but I'm not, and all I can think about are the things I've tried the hardest to forget.
It's funny how effortlessly I find myself in the midst of a nasty fight with my mother. In my desperation to get along with her, sometimes it seems like yelling is all I know how to do.
It's funny how being angry turns into being sad. I don't want to feel this way, it's just that I'm beginning to worry that maybe she was right; maybe it really was my fault.
It's funny how hard it is for me to just trust you. I know that what happened doesn't have anything to do with you, and I realize how unfair it is that you walked in just as I was picking up the pieces.
It's funny how no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to forget the people who have made my life so beautiful and miserable at the same time. I can't quite decide how thinking of them makes me feel, but that doesn't seem to stop me.
It's funny how falling in love can be so terrifying and yet so wonderful. Maybe it's because I know that no matter how perfect things seem at first, it always ends the same way: with someone's heart or another in pieces.
It's funny how jealousy can change a person. I know you don't want what he has, but you can't seem to help yourself, can you?
It's funny how seeing the people who remind you of someone else hurts almost as much as seeing them. Seeing her face every day makes me feel like he's always watching me. I hate that he's still there, biding his time, lurking in the background.
It's funny how being alone is when I feel closest to everyone. I guess it's because that's when I feel most like me.
It's funny how Brand New was right all along: I feel like my life is full of the quiet things that no one ever knows.
12/15/2007
13 December 2007
♥ "emma, why do you always look like a mess on the announcements?"
I hate fucking up the pledge in front of the entire school. And I really need to do something about my hair.
12/13/2007
12 December 2007
♥ face it, baby,
you're nothing without me. And now that you're realizing what you've done, you're not so tough, after all.
None of this is quite what you expected, is it?
Well, me either.
None of this is quite what you expected, is it?
Well, me either.
12/12/2007
11 December 2007
♥ at the end of the day, i really am pretty lucky.
Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing everything right, but today was one of those days when I realized I must at least have something figured out, because I don't know how else I could be lucky enough to end up with you.
It's so nice to have a boyfriend who cares that it's your birthday (the not cheating is also a bonus). Don't get me wrong, I'm not so bitter anymore: it's just that nothing makes you feel as good about your life as realizing how far you've come.
My life isn't a mess, after all. I'm plenty confused about where I'm going and what I want, but I think I know who I want with me, no matter what.
It's so nice to have a boyfriend who cares that it's your birthday (the not cheating is also a bonus). Don't get me wrong, I'm not so bitter anymore: it's just that nothing makes you feel as good about your life as realizing how far you've come.
My life isn't a mess, after all. I'm plenty confused about where I'm going and what I want, but I think I know who I want with me, no matter what.
12/11/2007
♥ today's the day!
Maybe I'll be taken a little more seriously now that I'm an adult. Probably not though. It's a great big scary world out there, but here I come!
12/11/2007
10 December 2007
♥ grossss
I hate, hate, HATE running into my ex at the gym. Maybe he could go to hell?
12/10/2007
05 December 2007
♥ here's rooting for karma.
It's been a long time since I felt like everything in my life was under control, and I've had this frustrating feeling like it wasn't getting any better. This week, I've finally started to see the light at the end of the tunnel, but today reminded me just why it seems so far away.
There are plenty of reasons to be tired right now--I've lost my voice, I still have that damn cold, and I was at school for something like ten hours today--but number one is gossip.
Don't get me wrong, I love gossip as much as the next girl. I like knowing everything about everyone. I find other people's fallacies to be fascinating, probably because they distract me from my own.
At the end of the summer I would have done anything to put a stop to the rumor mill. One of the most painful experiences of my life had just taken place, and I felt completely alone as I started to pick up the pieces. The fact that everyone knew about it--and that everyone was calling me a liar--certainly didn't help.
But as the school year wore on, I started to forget how upset I'd been about those nasty little rumors, about those cruel words that stick with you wherever you go. I stopped resenting the people who spread them, and I figured it made the most sense to figure I'd made the same mistake, let bygones be bygones.
Because let's face it: it's hard to be mature about things like that... I'm not. When you hear something so delightfully juicy, something that just makes someone seem so awful, of course your first instinct (and maybe your second and third) is to tell anyone who will listen. Everyone's done it.
This rumor is relatively unimportant in the scheme of things. It's not about anything life-changing; in fact, some might even argue it's not a negative thing they're saying about me. But the truth of the matter still stings: people are talking about me, and they don't have anything nice to say.
I could spend hours brooding over who started it, over who could possibly hear it, over whether it will affect my relationship with Matt, and so forth, and I'd be lying if I told you I wouldn't be giving this any thought.
But why waste my time? Rumors start because of jealousy and spite, and do I really want to lower myself to that level? I'm happy, I have amazing friends and a boyfriend I'm crazy about and things are finally starting to go my way. I didn't really need this little crack in my shell, but at the end of the day, I guess it doesn't really matter at all.
I'm annoyed; no, I'm pissed. I'm pissed that someone I thought was my friend (I guess I should have known better all along, since all those months ago) is spreading nasty rumors about me. I'm pissed that people believe it, and I'm not sure exactly who to blame, which also pisses me off. In fact, I can't really think of much that isn't bothering me right now.
But what can I really do, except keep on trucking and remember that what goes around comes around.
There are plenty of reasons to be tired right now--I've lost my voice, I still have that damn cold, and I was at school for something like ten hours today--but number one is gossip.
Don't get me wrong, I love gossip as much as the next girl. I like knowing everything about everyone. I find other people's fallacies to be fascinating, probably because they distract me from my own.
At the end of the summer I would have done anything to put a stop to the rumor mill. One of the most painful experiences of my life had just taken place, and I felt completely alone as I started to pick up the pieces. The fact that everyone knew about it--and that everyone was calling me a liar--certainly didn't help.
But as the school year wore on, I started to forget how upset I'd been about those nasty little rumors, about those cruel words that stick with you wherever you go. I stopped resenting the people who spread them, and I figured it made the most sense to figure I'd made the same mistake, let bygones be bygones.
Because let's face it: it's hard to be mature about things like that... I'm not. When you hear something so delightfully juicy, something that just makes someone seem so awful, of course your first instinct (and maybe your second and third) is to tell anyone who will listen. Everyone's done it.
This rumor is relatively unimportant in the scheme of things. It's not about anything life-changing; in fact, some might even argue it's not a negative thing they're saying about me. But the truth of the matter still stings: people are talking about me, and they don't have anything nice to say.
I could spend hours brooding over who started it, over who could possibly hear it, over whether it will affect my relationship with Matt, and so forth, and I'd be lying if I told you I wouldn't be giving this any thought.
But why waste my time? Rumors start because of jealousy and spite, and do I really want to lower myself to that level? I'm happy, I have amazing friends and a boyfriend I'm crazy about and things are finally starting to go my way. I didn't really need this little crack in my shell, but at the end of the day, I guess it doesn't really matter at all.
I'm annoyed; no, I'm pissed. I'm pissed that someone I thought was my friend (I guess I should have known better all along, since all those months ago) is spreading nasty rumors about me. I'm pissed that people believe it, and I'm not sure exactly who to blame, which also pisses me off. In fact, I can't really think of much that isn't bothering me right now.
But what can I really do, except keep on trucking and remember that what goes around comes around.
12/05/2007
♥ ...aaaand done!
With IB... Until January, anyway. I'm done with IAs, I'm done with my stupid TOK presentation, done done done! (Not Donne, luckily; I got Angelou instead.)
12/05/2007
♥ you know what sucks about living in the middle of nowhere?
The fact that it's nigh impossible to walk through my yard because it is completely covered in tumbleweeds. I kid you not.
12/05/2007
04 December 2007
♥ three months
and counting.
...thank you.
...thank you.
12/04/2007
03 December 2007
♥ in little more than a week,
I will be eighteen.
The big one-eight.
That's old enough to buy tobacco and go to Fascinations, get into strip clubs and hookah bars, get a hotel room and book an airline ticket, enter most sweepstakes, and, most importantly, it's probably the biggest step toward independence I'll have ever taken.
Oh man.
The big one-eight.
That's old enough to buy tobacco and go to Fascinations, get into strip clubs and hookah bars, get a hotel room and book an airline ticket, enter most sweepstakes, and, most importantly, it's probably the biggest step toward independence I'll have ever taken.
Oh man.
12/03/2007
02 December 2007
♥ truly, madly, deeply
is quite possibly one of the most ridiculous songs ever written, but who doesn't appreciate Savage Garden in all their cheese-tastic glory?
For some reason, it makes me think of all those girly movies I love so dearly:
Titanic
The Notebook
Save the Last Dance
Say Anything
The Man from Snowy River
Love, Actually
It's been far too long since I sat in front of a chick flick and waited for Prince Charming. I think I have plans for this weekend. (Maybe the Prince himself will even join me.)
For some reason, it makes me think of all those girly movies I love so dearly:
Titanic
The Notebook
Save the Last Dance
Say Anything
The Man from Snowy River
Love, Actually
It's been far too long since I sat in front of a chick flick and waited for Prince Charming. I think I have plans for this weekend. (Maybe the Prince himself will even join me.)
12/02/2007
