John Mayer: You perfectly articulate every emotion I've ever have. I love you.
So, one of the best hours I've had this week:
My head is propped up by a snakeskin pillow in Linens 'n Things, my feet are shoved between some pleather pillows that are apprently "things every newlywed couple needs" a few feet over my head, and my belt is digging into my back while I stare up at some industrial lights that Alex Marien insists look like the Hubble telescope and listen to a truly awful radio station. Alex J. Marien was just laying six inches away from me, in his own corner of the shelf, laughing at the things I was drawing on a tablet of graph paper. Every so often, a middle aged woman would happen upon us and think we were the cutest things alive. They'd say something about nap time and touch a few pillows and be on their merry ways, chuckling to themselves about a girl in an I LOVERMONT t-shirt and a red haired boy whose eye color they could not figure out due to the extreme glare off of his glasses.
Many hours later, we ran across Ellie Fox and her comrades at the Salvation Army, which was awkward.
Yesterday, Jacob and I went on a two-wheeled sojourn for many hours. It felt so good to be out and about. Elmwood was rioting with conversation and visual stimuli. It was sunny and slightly chilly and perfect.
Tonight feels like a summer evening. One of those nights when my brothers and I watch something stupid on TV just as darkness is falling and we've just come in from playing outside for a looong time. I just want to read and write something brilliant and watch movies and make skirts tonight. Unfortunately, the sewing machine is broken. So I'll do a few of those things.
I'm driving to Vermont tomarrow to look at the school. Hopefully it turns out of me more interesting that I'm suspecting it will be. Perhaps I can convince my mother to buy me something at Old Gold. Ah Burlington, VT, how I love thee.
So, I just started one of my three creative writing peices for the week. The opening paragraph is all about cantaloupes being the perfect fruit. It's supposed to talk about a tricycle and a broken flip flop at some point. This shall prove to be...challenging, yet rewarding.
I started reading this really good book last night called The Dive from Clausen's Pier or something of the like. It's gonna sound stupid if I tell you what it's about, so I'm just going to have to tell you that the author's style is absolutely lovely. I adore the way that she writes in the exact way that the human mind, or at least my mind, works. The majority of the book so far is memories. Hardly any of it takes place in the present tense. The only things that happen in the present tense are things that remind the main character of things she did in the past.
Splendid, splendid. I'm hooked.
Today will be a good day. I mandate it.
I'm up and slightly apprehensive. I have a lunch appointment with Nick Hahn tomarrow. It's been gnawing at my brain since last night, when we made this appointment. I'm not quite sure I'll have much to say. Nick Hahn is a woodland creature version of Justin Schaber. Woodland creature meaning that he's big and soft and Justin Schaber meaning he's intimidatingly intelligent, and expects those around him to match him or be material for jokes later on in life.
Nick is a musical genius(the real kind, not the garage band kind), has a stunning command of pop culture, and is one of the only people who calls me on misuse of vocabulary words. I'm very worried that, without the extra time that AIM gives me to come up with witty observations and impressively concise syntax, I will make a complete fool out of myself, after I've finally ridden myself of my squirelly, obsessive sophomore persona...Fuck!
*blinks* That was...in depth. I wasn't totally aware that I felt that way. Wow. Sorry guys.
Whoooo...other than that...
Friday Afternoon:
A to the lex to the M to the arien, you rock.
Friday night:
Class A! Between the "Estais bonitas!," the kids going at it in the front seat behind the movie theatre, the excellent processed foods, the Much Fighting, the angry Carloses, the garden departments, and the clacking plates...All went superbly well.
Saturday:
Some biscuits, mashed potats, a hard-earned twin pop, and several ill fitting prom dresses were the perfect segue into the Broadway Market's many sights, smells, and sounds. The best sight being those asinine pens, the best smell being the "tavern corn", and the best sound being, "Which one?"
Sunday:
Woke up half on the bed, half off, face down, to a rustling windbreaker. Jacob Fox fell asleep in about 5 minutes, and then there were some Easter baskets, followed by some choice drama at church, followed by some more sleeping, followed by some eating, followed by a walk, followed by beautiful, quiet sex, which we almost got caught having.
I really wish I could say the last part of that sentance without laughing so that you guys would believe me and be completely disgusted that we would have sex in my parents' house on Easter sunday. But, alas, my laugh betrays me.
Jacob and I watched Garden State again last night. Deja vous...I love that movie so much. I also love that Zach Braff wrote, directed, and starred in it, and it turned out entirely awesome. I gained back the respect I lost for Natalie Portman after Closer.
Did you know that the reason you can't lose your accent after a certain age is because the muscles that make the sounds of other languages distrophy because you haven't used them for your whole life? I think that's one of the most interesting things I know. Besides that whole you'd go deaf from the sound of your own voice if you didn't have bones in your head thing.
I made this sweet CD two days ago.
1. Where Is the Love-Black Eyed Peas
2. A Thousand Miles-Vanessa Carlton
3. Tisbury Lane-Mae
4. 3AM-Matchbox 20
5. One Song Glory-Rent
6. Angel-Dave Matthews Band (<3<3<3<3)
7. You and Me-Lifehouse (ditto)
8. That's All-Michael Buble
9. You-Switchfoot
10. Black Balloon-Goo Goo Dolls
11. As Things Collide-Kara's Flowers
12. Strange Things-Randy Newman
13. Fool to Think-Dave Matthews Band
14. Let Go-Frou Frou
15. Hanging By a Moment-Lifehouse
16. Circus (Walking By)-Something Corporate
17. What If God Was One of Us-Joan Osborne
18. Drops of Jupiter-Train
Plans for today:
Shower, do laundry, work on Creative Writing, maybe work on that damn paper, possibly walk to the library and get something mindless to read, listen to a lot of music, go out for a tit with a pile of rumpled red hair, possibly hang out with my womens, trim this hang nail, get a chance to wear my green winter ball dress again.
I feel really good today. I think Garden State has an extremely calming effect on me. It's a combination of its realism, awesome soundtrack, and the fact that I get to lay around under a quilt with camels on it with a floppy-haired Jew when watching it.
So, you know that executive monster in M0nsters Inc? The one with all of the legs and the three peice suit? Yea. I saw him in McDonalds today.
Also: We must get to Bethlehem to pay our taxes to Ceasar! But you're great with child. The messiah!
Other than that, my essay won't write itself, but I have no excuse not to write it tonight other than shere laziness.
I feel like having another milkshake. Because I am obese.
I am constantly in a state of lovesickness. I just love people so hard. It barely leaves any room for anything else. I don't think it's a bad thing, but, it's just sort of overwhelming sometimes.
I'm sure that you've all heard about the debate over whether or not to keep that woman's feeding tube in. Her parents want to keep her alive and her husband doesn't. She had a heart attack that damaged the part of her brain that allows her to swallow and talk and whatnot. I don't exactly know how I feel about it. It's been said that she can make eye contact and laugh. I say, if she wants to continue living even if things are crappy, power to her. If she doesnt, then it's cruel to keep her alive by artificial means. I don't know what she wants, so I'm not taking a stance.
We talked about this in Arnone's class today, and one of my esteemed collegues said, "Well, I mean, she had the heart attack because she was anorexic. So, I mean, it's her own fault." Translate: The little fucker deserves to die.
I jumped to say, "So, she deserves to die? I mean, it's self inflicted, but so is the problem with cutting." A cyncial smile spread across her face and she said, "Don't even get me started on cutting. Those people know that there's help for them." Images of the ECC psych ward's 4 by 8 cinder block rooms and audio recordings of the lovely people that wrench people out of bed to ask them if they're happy flashed through my mind. "Do you have any idea what the 'help' is like?" Her spectacular closing line was, "There are people around them who might be like, 'Hey...what's up?'."
In short, you are an elitist and soulless bitch. I am amused by you at times, but your complete disdain for the human race appauls and repulses me.
Dear School:
You are one of the least important things to me ever.
The most valuable things I've learned have not been from you, so stop pretending to be my savior. I appreciate the interesting things you have told me, but they have nothing to do with who I am. Who I am has come from the people I love, and I thank you for holding some of us in the same place for 6 hours a day long enough for us to get to know each other. Now that we do know/have known each other, though, I need you to back off.
You are the last thing I want to spend time with. You are overbearing and obnoxious. I can't stand the smell, look, or mood of you.
Perhaps it is in your best interest to change.
So, yesterday, Sarah and I went shopping. I bought a pair of sweet shoes at the Sal Army(4.99), as well as a plaque with an etching of Kenmore Highschool on it (.79) and a wooden box that said "MOM Vermont" on it (.99). At Sears, I bought a black sweater (5.99) and a pair of underwear (6.00).
We ate at Fridays (<3) and went home to...I don't know. We did something for a while, and then we made purses. Mine's the coolest thing ever. I would put a picture of it in here if I weren't so lazy.
We listened to Copeland and Kara's Flowers and talked about Brian, Dana, and Loretta (Spanish, Photo, English.) We also talked about Kathy the Councelor, her analogies, and the this I talk to her about. Somewhere along the line, we made our way into the bonus room to watch love actually, a splendid movie. "wooooooooo-would we call her chubby?"
We woke up, made some disgustingly breakfast inappropriate food, and ate somewhere near a whole bag of Doritos on top of it while watching Junior, Room Raders, Spring Break Dance Off, Paula's Homecooking, and Extreme Makeover, not in that order.
We rock at being fat and unproductive. ^_^
Page 112 of The Lovely Bones. Deceased Lindsay Salmon on her surviving friend, Ray Singh.
"He came to realize something as he stared at my photo-that it was not me. I was in the air around him, I was in the cold mornings he now had with Ruth, I was in the quiet time he spent alone between studying."
I hope this is true, you big teet.
Aha!
I just pinpointed exactly how I feel right now.
I feel precisely as I did the morning I was flying to California last spring. I was wearing my jean jacket and listening to "Life in a Nutshell" by Barenaked Ladies in my headphones, and I was smiling to myself about the 5 hour conversation Jacob and I had had until 4am the night before. I had accidentally hung up on him and just sort of smiled at the phone and snuggled in and fell asleep within five minutes.
So, Jacob and I rented Garden State last night. Best movie I've seen since Saved.
I loved how it was a boy meets girl story, but in a very real way. Aside from the fact that I don't think I would go into someone's house if I just met them ten miuntes ago.
My favorite scenes were the ice skating tape, the hamster burial, and the bath tub.
On another note, I love Jacob's grandma. She's Grade A.
Also, I can't wait until spring. I can't wait until I can lay on the grass and take a walk at 8:30 and draw on the sidewalk and ride my bike all day and not care that I didn't go anywhere.
I feel so much like myself today. I love it.
The theme of today was insecurity.
During Spanish today, I felt like a complete asshole because I kept getting puntos for my team. Everyone was like, "You're a Spanish machine!" I don't know why, but this made me feel really uncomfortable. I felt so singled out. I felt like everyone thought I was some big arrogant egg head. That's the last thing I'd ever want to be. Besides a criminal.
Creative Writing came along, and after two days of avoiding reading my story aloud, I had to. Miss Corbett kept calling it a novella, which, again, made me feel like I'm some asshole egg head who doesn't do anything by school work. Then I actually had to read it out loud. Yes, it's about a stuffed cat named Zappi and his owner, a 31 year old raver/ecstacy user. I felt like such a weirdo that I chose to write about life as a stuffed cat. 75% of the class wrote about dating. I was reading it and I sounded like a total idiot because I kept stumbling over all of the words that I so carefully chose, and laughing at my own jokes because I'd never heard them out loud before and...oh my god. I hated it so much. I just stopped in the middle and said, "I hate reading. *insert summary of the rest of the story here*"
Miss Corbett said, "Oh, to be a fly on the wall of Mary Kate's brain." She meant it as a compliment, but it just made me feel like a freak.
I rarely get really embarassed, but I was dieing. Everyone was laughing and said they liked it, but I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I felt so completely different from my peers and really hated it.
Of course, it was more awful because I couldn't stop being flustered for like 10 million hours after it and Alex completely called me on it. He was like, "I've never seen you so self conscious. My shyness has rubbed off on you!" At this point, I wanted to be at home, under my covers.
I tried to explain that reading what I write out loud is pure torture for me. I said something analagous to the fact that it makes me feel like I'm bearing my entire soul in front of people I hardly know. He said he didn't understand because my story was really good.
Am I wrong to not want to share something that I worked really hard on, something that contains so many different peices of me, with complete strangers who know nothing about me?
I think this is all stemming from the fact that I'm not over the fact that basically my entire class plus tons of other people heard me speak at Zac's funeral and saw me play his part in the play. Both of those things were done for such private reasons, and I can't stand that people know that about me.
I feel completely vulnerable. Like everyone knows what my achille's heel is, and I have no control over what they do about it.
I kind of feel like I'm going to explode. I've become slightly introverted over the past few weeks, and it's driving me crazy, but I can't stop. I'm having difficulty talking about the things that really matter to me, so I just keep joking around and talking about trivial things.
I feel like someone else. Mary Kate Duff doesn't have secrets.
Do you ever wonder where the things you borrow from the library have been? Maybe your least favorite teacher's kid had it last month. Maybe that quintessencial "hottie in your math class" that seventeen magazine always talks about had it two years ago.
The reason I'm saying this is because I'm listening to the Dave Matthews Band album Everyday, which I borrowed from the library. One of the few cool CDs they have. They havent updated their CD selection since like '99. That's okay, I guess, but I was looking for the Garden State soundtrack.
One of the number one things I like about my math teacher, Mr Bowen, is that he puts post-it notes on movies that he returns to Blockbuster that say things like, "Classic!", "Disappointing ending.", and "Truly bizarre." I aspire to someday be this funny.
Speaking of funny, there are a few of these pens circulating about the school. They intermittently light up red when you write with them. They have little arms with boxing gloves attached to them that extend when you hit little levers on the back. On the very top of the pen rests a thick pair of inaccurately shaped lips. Already, this is an odd looking creature. However, the part that has made me openly belly laugh instead of chuckle to myself about it is that, from these lips, a thick cluster of 4-inch-long lavender hair sprouts. A most bizarre combination of ideas. I've seen all of these things exisiting on a separate pen, but to have them all on one...It makes my chest hurt because I laugh so hard at it.
I'd told Alex about it yesterday and drawn a diagram during math, but today was a most blessed day. We were walking down the stairs, and I caught a glimpse of one in someone's hand and, without giving it any thought, I exclaimed, "Alex! There it is!" I took off down the stairs to follow it, and Alex followed me. We finally found it again and he made like the was mesmerized by it and started veering towards it with a wide-eyed expression and an outstretched hand.
In conclusion, I think I just might stoop so low as to ask one of the girls who has one where they got it and go out and buy it.
Also, too, (Dempsey, 2005) I'm actually nervous about reading my short story in front of the class tomarrow. What you write about exposes so much about your inner workings and what you're really like. I'm so afraid that people are going to see right through the thin veil of my peice and into my soul. I'm soooooooo nervous *chews fist*
Mostly, I'm nervous to bare my soul amongst my peers that I actually respect the opinion of and work of, (i.e., Sarah-Jane Calvaneso, Sara Boulden, Lee Miller, Caitlyn Quider, and Alex Marien.)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH.
I had a reasonably dumb day.
Good parts:
- That insanely STUPID pen B.H. was using in English that made me laugh for the rest of the day.
- Hiding out in the bathroom with Sarah-Jane---more fun than it sounds like
- To my right, during creative writing, I heard a sound like marbles gliding past each other. That clacking, clicking noise. I looked in the direction of the noise and saw Alex Marien pulling unpackaged Runts out of his pocket and stealthily slipping them into his mouth. I remembered the ziploc bag of them I saw in his backpack and the purpose of "trip to the bathroom" in the middle of class was made humorously clear.
- "I want to touch your hair."
- Telling C.L. to her face that she's defensive.
I still have so much APUS to do. Muh.
Today, the only thing that got me through my day without dieing of boredom was Sarah's calm, yet alarmed movements in gym, perfectly timing my exits from classes (don't ask), and Brian Winger's tie.
I woke up yesterday morning to the sound of someone taking their jacket off. From beneath my blankets, I slowly came to the realization that it was Jacob M. Fox. He curled up next to me and I slept there for another hour or so before I became conscious enough to hold my eyelids open.
We proceded to go to church, make a fantastic lunch, eat it on my bed, bake brownies, and have a messy brawl over the spatula. The next thing I knew, I woke up to Jacob tucking me in and kissing me before he left. I'd fallen asleep again from all the excitement.
He wears me out.
So does creative writing. It's fun, but my juices are drained.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is what true love looks like.
Note that we don't have our fingers in our OWN noses.
Judge all you want, but I'm perfectly happy.
I was just reminded of a most glorious moment.
I'm sitting at our diningroom table in Sycamores 23, my bare feet resting on that oddly firm carpet, wearing Keight's skirt, my brand new J. Crew top, Sarah is gazing longingly at me across the table, Julia is to my right, Keight is across from her wearing fancy beads, and Mommy B and Jimbob are floating about, we're all eating Noodles in a Bonnet, and "Hey Leonardo" by Blessed Union of Souls is playing in the background.
Oh, holy Vermont.
So, I'm sitting here, rocking out to lfo, and reeling from today's events.
Case in point: Wicked.
Basically, once I enter a theatre, I just shut down and go into awe mode.
All that green and movement and sound and harnessed creativity.
I'm infinately jealous of anyone who was involved in that show in any way, shape, or form.
Favorite characters: Boq(munchkin boy) and Fiyero (eventually becomes scarecrow), both of whom I got the autograph of. I just like smiled at them and handed them my program. I was thinking, "You are beautiful and talented. You are beautiful and talented. You are beautiful and talented. You are beautiful and talented. You are beautiful and talented."
An overall splendid day was had. I my winter ball dress plus my Seth stockings and polo and my green cardigan.
In other news, I need a haircut, and I got the autograph of a boy who looked just like a lamp last night. I also met a boy who could perfectly immitate Dorothy Sczpornak and Sofia Patrillo. An interesting combination to say the least.
In short, if I don't end up spending the rest of my life in theatre, I think I will cry. Or have babies. Whichever.
Best song ever: Jesus Freak-DC Talk
So, it's come to my attention that at least two people have been afraid to talk to me about Zac because they think I'd get mad that they miss him, like they didn't earn it.
Just because you didn't spend a ridiculous amount of time with him doesnt mean your feelings aren't legitimate, and I certainly don't pretend that my grief grants me some sort of priveledge to tell people how to feel about him.
I will actually respect you more if you talk about Zac without being inhibited. Don't hide things from me just for my sake. You're actually doing more harm than good by not talking to me about him, because it makes me happy to talk about him.
It's true that I now feel really uncomfortable that so many people know my name just because they heard me speak at his funeral or saw me play his role in the play, but that's basically all I have to deal with that you don't. Yea, Zac is a huge part of my life. Yea, it hurts like a bitch that he's gone. However, I think that I have it a lot easier than people who weren't always with him in some ways. So don't think that I'm a grief snob. I dont think that I'm the only person who is allowed to grieve. It hurts me that people think that I feel this way.
Things I'd Kill to Be Doing Instead of Analyzing TS Eliot Poetry:
- Getting a back rub
- Looking out of my window at the Westin St Francis in Union Square. I effin' love SF.
- Off roading in a golf cart, laughing my ass off, hoping a Russian teen doesnt kill me and my best friends.
- Reading the ticker at Friday's out loud...VANILLA BEAN!
- Laying on my back in my dark backyard with my friends in a head to belly circle after a bon fire.
- Swinging on a loudly creaking, frozen swingset at 2am.
- Hanging off of the edge of Keight's bed saying, in an amused yet accusing tone, "I can't believe you OWN one of these!"
- Slowly overheating from the weight of an adolescent boy's sleeping body carefully resting across mine.
- Sleeping
I'm a bad focuser!
Songs I caught Alex singing under his breath today:
"What If God Was One of Us"
"Backstreet's Back"
"Pieces of Me"
and various other musical interludes courtesy of the Temptations and Michael Jackson
Other related topics:
"Do you have a tampon?" *pulls a camera out of her bag* "I'm not sure how many pictures I have left." Bewildered silence.
"So this is what Santa does in the off season..."
Everyone should go see the play "Death Trap"
One of my colleagues (can't ever spell that word) approached me, dragging his feet today. I said to him, "You look defeated." Something distracted us, and as we were climbing the stairs, I remembered that he didn't reply. "So, why do you look defeated? Did you have another falling out with your lady love *laughs too hard to pronounce the name and couldn't say it in here anyway*"
He turns and looks at me and with a mischevious glint in his eyes and says, "No. How is your big crush on Mr. Nowocien working out?"
ZING!
Reasons Why I Love [Mary]Kate Corbett (my Creative Writing teacher)
- She's so flipping cute with her little black bob and barettes
- She wears cardigan sweaters
- She's engaged, but has only mentioned this twice
- She appreciates my Vermont stories
- The comment, "I'm copying this one for my files!" dashed in purple ink on the bottom of my paper that creeped the hell out of and endlessly flattered me
- She gives the best assignments ever
With that little segue, there, let me say that creative writing today was the coolest thing ever. Well, no. I've had more fun in that class. However, it was fun to list five characters that I truly love and give reasons.
Mine were:
- Phineas (A Separate Peace) because he is aloof, casual, mysterious yet relatable, an oddly attractive form of arrogant, a leader, and a fallen warrior. Also, he shamelessly borrows his roommate's pink sweaters without asking.
- Holden Caulfield (Catcher in the Rye) because he is hyper observant, incredibly funny, independent yet vulnerable, and kind. Also, he is cordial to both nuns and prostitutes.
- Michael Mascowitz (The Princess Diaries BOOKS) because he's beautifully dorky. He is formidibly intelligent, but doesn't shove it in anyone's face who doesn't deserve it. He patiently waits for the right moment to confess his love, rather than springing it on the object of his affections at the most inoportune time. He has a cool room and looks out for his sister even though she is an ass. Also, he keeps a low profile.
- Jessica Darling (Sloppy Firsts/Second Helpings) because she has sharp wit, an intense ability to analyze her peers (except for that Marcus Flutie), and a high level of honesty that should leave her vulnerable, but actually makes her strong.
- The main character of There's a Boy in the Girl's Bathroom! because he is uninhibited socially, intrinsically funny, and thinks nothing of befriending ceramic animals or telling girls that their underpants are showing. Also, he refers to hairbows and whatnot as "hair orniments."
I asked Alex Marien what he wrote down and he said that Bruce Wayne was number one. He went on this fiery promotional tangent about how he's "not some joker affected by nuclear waste. He's a strong, smart man...." 10 minutes later, I'm still laughing.
Other than that, this one girl in my CW class is driving everyone nuts. She's too eager to volunteer. "I'll read MINE." And it's crap. Mine isnt the best stuff ever written, but at least I dont act like it is. Your ideas are trite. Stop pretending you're a 'writer.' Caitlyn will dance circles around your boxy mind.
I woke up this morning feeling sorry for myself.
I laid in bed for an hour, depressing the hell out of myself. I was torturing myself with what will happen to me next year when Jacob, Keight, Julia, and Alex are gone. I honestly feel like I'd be nothing without them. When I'm asked to tell about myself, the first things out of my mouth are The BSP and Jacob. Every time. I don't say, "Well, I'm pretty into theatre...I think I'm going to be a great director someday. I mean, I'm such a great leader." No. I talk about them. Once they're not within 20 minutes...I dont know what I'm going to do.
And then I read some of Zac's blog. That kid was so damn hopeful about the future. All the time. And I'm thinking about what I said about the kids in my Creative Writing class. I said that I couldn't understand why they'd create tragedy when, while using their imaginations, they can create joy and good circumstances. So, I had to ask myself, What the hell are you doing?
I'm still sad that these people won't be as readily available, but all of these foolish notions I have of them forgetting me and replacing me within weeks of leaving are ridiculous. I don't make friends with people like that. Yea, they'll have new lives, but I'll still be part of them in some way. And I should be happy for them, not mad at them for wanting to leave.
I've gotta stop being so selfish.
Last night, Sarah and Julia and I were in Julia's computer room. All we'd done was buy something on ebay, eat dinner, and complain about stupid women.
My stomach hurt and I was bored. I started missing Zac a lot. And I just wanted Jacob to be laying next to me, falling asleep in spite of everything going on around him. I also wanted Zac to be going through the drawers in the computer room going, "Hoooooooo!" And I wanted Keight to be lifting herself off of the floor with her compressed methane gas.
I wanted those three people to be with me so bad. I was getting real cranky. I was so mad that Sarah, Julia, and I had nothing to say to each other. We weren't doing anything.
Then I looked up and saw the color of Sarah's messy excuse for a bun making her sweatshirt look even more gray and Julia's blonde hair forming a perfect circle around her downward facing face. That's what made me remember that I love them no matter what we do.
I'm glad that something somewhere doesn't allow me to be a cranky bitch all the time. Something let me see those images and remind me of how good I have it.
Even so, I would've been nice to have even one of the three missing parties there.
Basically, I'm in love with Patrick Fugit.
I had my doubts, but Saved ended up being one of the best movies I've ever seen. I thought it was gonna be totally "janga" in its attitude, meaning irreverent and snotty, but it was just plain funny and beautiful.
Honestly though, all I got out of it was that I want to marry Patrick Fugit.
ME: ha. thats funny. i love the lovey dovey atmosphere that's totally false. andy (my former Sunday School teacher) shook my hand just because he had to the other week and didnt say a word to me. like he hadnt noticed that i stopped coming to his class. he looked at me blankly like he didnt even know my name
JEN: yeah. that happened to me to. pastor steve didnt know my name so he blatently avoided me during the whole "turn to your partner and shake hands"
ME: HA.
Seeing as we've each been going to that church since kindergarten...someone should notice us. Isn't it funny that I stopped coming to your sunday school class four months ago and you have completely erased me from your memory, as though I never existed. No "Hey, Mary Kate, where've you been?" No "How are you Mary Kate?"
There's some real Christian warmth for you. Thanks for making me feel like I matter.
I'm listening to Destination Beautiful by Mae. It truly is beautiful.
Today, in creative writing, I realized what a true glutton for interesting syntax I am. I was reading Lee's peice, and I was underlining like every other word and puting hearts and NICE!'s all over the paper. I didnt give her any constructive criticism.
What made me laugh is that she said things like "mourning wind" and talked about skulls and whatnot, and I wrote on her paper, "Absolutely splendid. A little dark, but that's your style. It doesnt make me question your talent." And I wrote about scurrying flowers and sidewalks and spices, but the last line of mine was, "Place yourself in your cage. You won't be leaving soon." And she wrote, "Could be a little less bleak, but otherwise good." The whole peice was this absurd sety of directions that involved waterfalls and pleasant imagery, and I write one slightly ominous thing and she calls it bleak!
I love Lee, though, so it's okay. When I said, "What are you talking about, skull woman?!" She admitted that the ominous ending was the only part she remembers because she focuses on morbidity. Which makes me laugh, because she's such a nice girl.
Most of what the kids in my creative writing class write is really dark, lurid stuff. Either gory or really depressing. None of their characters are intrinsically happy and it's just plain annoying. Honestly, my stuff isnt like "Celebrate life, this is the only one we've got! Whoo hoo!" but I'm almost positive that everything I've written, aside from that one surreal peice Lee commented on, is, by the most basic definition, comedy. So many kids are writing tragedy, and I don't understand why you would create tragedy when you have a choice. You don't have a choice over what actually happens in your life, so why not make things as positive as possible in your imagination? I don't understand.
Also, too many girls write peices about a girl who hates their ex-boyfriend or hates their best friend. Way to be obviously autobiographical.
Things I Appreciated About Today:
1. That sugar cookie with red hots in it
2. John Arnone's aside to me and Jenna that began with, "Anecdotally..." He never really made eye contact with us, but we knew he was talking to just us an not the entire class. He didnt sound amused by his own story, and that is why I appreciate him, because it truly was amusing.
3. Brian:"¿Quien tiene un tarjeta de credito?" Sarah: "I have one." B:"Oh, tu tiene muchas deudas..." S:"No. I was J/K."
4. ¿Si pudieras matar a Brian, como lo haria?
5. I was in a deep slumber in the middle of the afternoon, and a phone was shoved into my ear. It was Jacob!
Basically, all I've been doing, in an excess (even for me) this week is ripping on people. I never stop. I've just been really irritable. Not that I'm not always, but I'm more irritated lately.
Today, ____, got this huge grin on her face when she saw me and waved enthusiastically. I flapped an empty glove in her general direction sans eye contact and turned to my companion and said, "I HATE HER!!!!" And he laughed genuinely and said, "That's so funny, because she LOVES you." I thought it was just me. I'm glad that someone else notices how much she loves me and that I'm not just being narcissistic. I just can't stand the fact that she's so enthused by my presense when I openly hate everything she stands for.
Whatever. I'm real hungry.
Two Positrons Walk Down the Street...
So, I'm going to write 100 things I like about my life. Because I'm too negative. The order is not important. It's just in order of my thoughts.
- The Backseat Posse.
- Keight's fervor for layers.
- My kitty-cat.
- That last trip to San Franscisco-89th floor, night skyline, Borders that took up a whole block...
- Go Ask Alice---Most influencial 6 weeks of my life thus far.
- My extensive music collection
- The way Jacob's neck smells like soap when he's fresh from the shower
- Zac's laugh
- My ability to laugh at commonplace things
- My bros! Si, si, mis hermanos...
- Our lime green kitchen
- My grandmother's tired Valencia stories.
- Grandpa King's famous, "Whats that coming in, the house?"
- That brief Michael Militello interlude.
- Nick Thompson's integrity.
- Coloring Sarah's hair with markers
- That time Zac followed me into the basement and I didnt know it... (8th grade)
- Mommy B and Jimbob!
- Julia's flippy hair
- That royally DUMB henna tattoo of the ferry boat.
- Sarah's eyes.
- Ellie Fox's unnatural flexibility
- Chuck and Cindy's gigantic backyard.
- My kindergarden relationship with Melissa Affuso
- My elementary school friendship with Rebecca Fetzer and Toni Kaufman (not at the same time)
- Mis padres-son muy buenos
- Dashboard Confessional Concert '02
- Stomp! (and dinner before)
- The Great Escape (Friday of Vermont 2004)
- Mr King's English class in 8th grade
- The fact that Dave Melgar comes to sit with me after he's done with his lunch
- Jon Topalski hugs
- New Years '04 (Eve and Day)
- All hammock encounters ever (Sarah's, Jacob's, Laura's, Mike's hamMOCK)
- That one insane trip to Jo-Anne Fabrics with the Crunching Senoritas
- Peter Pan weekend
- My crush on Matt Zych
- The fact that I'm a contemporary of Jake Gyllenhaal
- Bowling for Hussies and the playing of Let Go in the parking lot
- My ability to comment on Quebec (few people can do that legitimately)
- Devin Rooney's lack of inhibitions
- My bed
- All of those times Jimbob caught me talking about something I shouldnt have been
- The BSP teet fixation
- Living room/fountain dancing
- Capitola, CA
- Stowe, VT
- Passing time between 2nd and 3rd, 4th and 5th, 5th and 6th, 6th and 7th period
- Homecoming 2004
- That line of people at Zac's wake
- West Side Story-Tyler McGee style
- My green cardigan era
- That day at Mykonos with Jacob and Zac
- The 1920s film I made with Caitlyn and Sara and Sarah and Ashley
- Oatmeal Explosions, Etc
- Brian Lipp's antics
- Art Club Feasts with Amanda
- Getting kicked out of Perkins
- "I love your video camera!"
- "Hey, biceps, when's happy hour?"
- The Goo Goo Dolls
- apple crisp
- Quality Markets (RIP)
- The Jacob Beach Experience (2/5/05)
- Mega Muffins
- Off The Wall
- brodo
- The Dream Street phase (It was a good one, and you know it!)
- Josh and Frou Batos
- Playing tennis with Zac
- Reading debaucherous literature aloud in a family resort condo
- "Here's to good grades."
- John Mayer
- bras
- Fiestaware
- Our shortlived swingdancing career
- Adam Snyder's pleasant nature
- bubble baths
- candles
- Christmas lights
- The Lemonade Incident (2/14/04)
- Ellie's ballet
- vandalizing Adam Mazenaur's car
- notewriting
- late night AIM conversations
- The Great Rollerskate (with Mandi, Nakita, and Dave)
- "Make me."
- That solitary conversation that read "Hot Mama"
- Caitlyn Quider
- That porch swing/graham cracker experience with Brian Blum (6/18/04)
- my prom/homecoming/new years dress
- Carissa's bowling dance (in moderation)
- Spanish class last year
- constant availability of M&M's
- My room
- My second homes
- Jay
- My Spotlighters hoodie
- "This is Forrest's CD" hits play, Genie in a Bottle starts playing..skip...I'm Like a Bird...skip...Liquid Dreams...skip...Bouncing off the Ceiling...
- David Merrill
