Pisces Outlook for 2010 (http://shine.yahoo.com/page/2010-horoscope)

Year 2010 Overview

Okay, pause for a moment and check your pulse. Still there? Good. That means you survived the last couple of years with both Saturn and Pluto in less-than-perfect places for you. And by "less than perfect," I mean "lousy." Good news! Both of astrology's heavyweights have moved on to more constructive places for you. Now is the time to take that famous Pisces sensitivity (still intact from the challenges of the last while) and put it to work making your life a happier and more comfortable place.

You'll be receiving a lot more attention from others in 2010: loved ones, family and co-workers will all be drawn to you at times like moths to a flame. And as a result of the last couple of years worth of hassle, you'll be a stronger person with better judgment, and much better able to handle the influx. Enjoy your new position at the center of your own social circle!

One more noteworthy change from the previous year: Jupiter will be in your sign for most of the year, giving you a newfound sense of optimism and happiness about things no matter how they turn out. You'll be feeling expansive, but be careful not to expand too much -- this transit also comes with a more than usual chance of weight gain. There will be a renewed emphasis on health, fitness and personal well-being in the spring -- take advantage of that. Then again, maybe you just deserve the break. What's a pound or two compared to real happiness?

Well this was enlightening. Reading something like this almost makes me wish I was desperate enough to believe everything I've been told.

The days following Christmas are weird. After all this anticipation, after all this build up everything starts to level off and return to normalcy. It sort of feels like we end up embarrassed of how emotionally wrapped up in the "festive" feeling we all were.. everything new just ends up mixed in with the old, and everything that used to reflect the so-called spirit of Christmas is packed up in boxes and thrown back up to the attic. And there it all remains until this month rolls around again and everything about our attitude is expected to - and conveniently does - change.

I can't decide whether I'm a realist or idealist.. and I'm not really sure which of the two is worse.

The fact that it's Christmas Eve seems completely irrelevant to me right now. I know everyone says Christmas always just sneaks up on you but seriously.. I've never felt this un-festive before. Now I don't even mean in a Grinch way (obviously old-school cartoon Grinch style - that version with Jim Carey and the now coked-out girl from gossip girl is too awkward, borderline terrifying) just in this detached uncertainty.

On an unrelated note, while I was in the media center the other day I was listening to our Latin sub talk to Mrs. J about facebook. Mrs J was going on about how stupid she thought the whole thing was and "has this theory" that in two years everyone will be completely embarrassed by their obsession with it. Pathetically, as soon as I heard this I became immediately defensive.. I mean, obviously this woman is not aware of what an integral part of my life that shit isss. And then the more I thought about that, the more I started to realize I probably spend more time watching people update the world on their ceaselessly riveting lives, laughing at middle schoolers just for a sense of self-assured superiority, and skimming through arrays of pictures to find how truly social people spend their time, than I do sleeping most school nights. Embarrassment.. not yet, still definitely on the denial stage before reaching acceptance.

Awesome. A blog about me. This is new.

So I guess on Christmas Eve we're supposed to think about others, and giving to others, and how much we appreciate others... because this is totally different from Thanksgiving since people are having glazed ham tonight instead of turkey. So just to stray from the underlying subject of every single blog entry I've produced the past year I just wanted to express how much I like people. It's true. Most the time I'm kind of thinking "FUCK YOU ALLLLLL - I'M AN INDEPENDENT LONER, YEAH! FRESHH" but no, not lately. It's kind of funny that when you stop socially isolating yourself, you manage to find that people are great, new people are great, and that maybe only speaking to same few people is not protective but just limiting. Not that I'm saying anything against the old, because I love them, but it's just surreal to me that I can actually enjoy people I haven't always known. Yay for turning something of a shout-out into being about myself again.. but I guess thank you to new people that I've never had the cahones to speak to before. High school has - without a doubt - been something of a growing experience for me and as much as I bitch about everything there.. well, there are just always surprises.

But I'm not just thankful for the new, like I said, since I love the old. Thoreau said when receiving guests it's better to distance yourself as the levity of the conversation increases, but I'm thinking that's just a guy thing. There's nothing I can think of that I love more than entwining yourself between people and feeling not only a comforting physical closeness but emotional as well. Because the warmth - on a literal and figurative sense - is enough to remind this cold hearted, cynical individual that we really aren't alone.. So I guess I could say last night I actually did realize I was something like that green nasty monster and my heart managed to swell from that infinitesimal size to something remotely human. Thank you.

I used to blog this length every day at one point.. but on a final note, which exists in stark contrast to this entire post: Death - White Lies is an awesome song in case you weren't aware. Album suggestionnnn: http://www.mediafire.com/?yhme1mdzymz

Soo.. Merry Christmas Eve
Happy Holidays
KRAZY KWANZAA
Hopefully Hanukkah kicked ass
& Something pertaining to Festivus..

You're great.

I wish I had something good to say instead of merely existing as this empty being without thoughts and distinctions between being the highs and lows of life. Anything and everything that should make me happy is nothing and I'm nothing more than exhausted by nearly all that surrounds me. I'm so sick of this never ending pattern of working my ass off, and finding that the only products of my efforts are nothing more than numbers on a page - hypothetical values that label me as better or worse than someone else.

I'm boring myself and can't seem to understand why everything just can't STOP.

(By the way, picture comes from "2009 A Year in Photo"s: http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2009/12/2009_in_photos_part_1_of_3.html The entire series makes me overwhelmingly sad, and that's certainty not out of any early case of nostalgia.)

Too much to do, so little time.. only enough time to express my love for this commercial and Walt Whitman.

I love Yahoo Answers for bailing me out on the take-home test bonus question:

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AhoZQ0XrTGQl1wOnRkn8ZNnsy6IX;_ylv=3?qid=20091206083837AASNW1S


I asked.

In amidst my regular friday aftertnoon plans (cake boss + naps + gorging self on food) I managed to complete the impossible: high score in solitaire of 11,763 in 63 seconds. Fucking hell, I am awesome.

I need to learn how to speak.
Granted, I can say that over and over, but I can't actually do it.
Maybe I need to learn how to do.
..that's what she said.


http://1000awesomethings.com/
http://contexts.org/socimages/
--> sometimes too pc-y, but not bad..

New pasttime: scanning writeaprisoner.com. It's so eerie, but the fact that it's so creepy is why I'm overwhelmingly entertained by it. Basically you have a bunch of prisoners asking people on the "outside" to write to them, and in doing that they write a quick blurb about themselves with all this stats about their prison sentence included. My favorite one so far - http://www.writeaprisoner.com/Template.aspx?i=z-4966 ... definitely check out what she was charged with.

I've been feeling kind of folk-y lately.

I have no time to do anything this weekend and it's a pretty suffocating feeling. Seriously, it's quite possibly the first time in the history of my life where every hour is on a schedule, leaving almost no room for essentials like homework and sleep. Oh. I love that I've put homework on the same level as sleep.. although I know for a fact homework is more important to me than sleep is. Cool.

Back to workkkk.

Dear Owl City,

You are not The Postal Service, nor will you ever be.

Something I've always wanted to do before I die is have my entire sense of vision overwhelmed by a single color. Not like how you can just close your eyelids and see black, or put a sheet of paper up in front of your face and see a single color.. I mean I want to lay in an empty field gazing up at a cloudless sky and just be eaten up by the blue in a single gulp.

Being out for four days has made me realize what a truly miserable human being school turns me into. Like how I completely and utterly hate waking up every morning, and just end up counting away the hours left in my day as it goes on.. I can't comprehend why anyone would want to be locked up in there overnight.


EDIT: Slightly melodramatic. Actually, very.

These past two days.. I don't even know. The highest high point I've had in.. well, seemingly forever. My drive time yesterday was brilliant and made me not hate driving any more. Somewhere wedged in between the "you can do anything you want to" and the "what can I say, I'm a pretty inspirational guy?" I managed to forget about all the other stressing things building up in my life.

And then tonight - I stopped caring. For three hours I said "fuck it" to everyone and everything. I jumped up and down, sang, and basically raped the air with some seriously excessive hip thrusting -- but none of it mattered. ABSOLUTELY NONE OF IT. EVERY single human being in there didn't care, everyone managed to value their own happiness, their own excitement over any insecurities. And everyone just seemed.. I don't know, bonded and close and loving and wonderful.

I never want this feeling to end, although I could do without my four blisters. Descent: I can't decide if it's possibly avoidable or completely inevitable.

Sometimes I list off a random series of numbers in my head, and after a few minutes I stop and wonder if I'm the first person in the entire universe to have that exact thought. It's sort of an empowering feeling. Like in some way a historically significant moment just took place, a moment that no one else happens to know.

I'm just going to sleep forever. It's the same passivity but much more enjoyable.

I'm not entirely sure why I watched Mamma Mia! but if you were curious, remember the fact that that is a solid two hours of your life you will never get back. Instead, watch Zombieland.

I wish I could blog, but I really haven't had anything to say lately.

I'm pretty sure it's because I've decided I'm better off not thinking - or at least, restricting my thinking. Lately, I've been frustrated with just about everything and everyone, and have discovered if I just stop caring about it all, things are so much easier.

My weeks have basically turned into five parts school, two parts movie marathons. All I have to think about Monday through Friday is school and trying to get everything done, and basically trying to survive. Then, Saturday and Sunday I just hide out in my bedroom underneath the covers watching movies, then sleeping for a few hours before waking up, scarfing down some food, and starting the cycle all over again. I am a hermit.

I'm just completely exhausted in every sense of the word.

I'm so happy right now because I actually have something to look forward to for the next few months, rather than just simply living purely for each weekend.


Arctic Monkeys concert. December 13th. House of Blues = going to be beyond comprehension amazing.

My parents' summary of what basically all my teachers said about me tonight at parent night: "LOL. WHO?" The one stretch from that being the fact that Mrs. Ansell said I was chatty. I'm fairly certain this is the first time in the history of my education - scratch that - my life that I have EVER been characterized as chatty. I'm not sure whether to feel proud or concerned.. well, just throwing out a massive question mark there I guess.

I tried to make my parents explain to me why they would possibly want to attend parent night, seeing as the teacher's consistently say the same thing about me every year. They both dodged the question several times, and I think it's just because it is the greatest extent they ever get involved with my schooling. Chances are, though, by next week they'll have already forgotten my teacher's names and we'll just return to ordinary nothingness. Utopia.

English video: for in case you ever had the desire to see how guh-hettoo I can be.

You know your life is awesome when you characterize one of the highlights of your day as being hit on by your fourteen year old hick second cousin. Sweet life. Then when we got home and I realized all attempts at actually learning to drive were completely futile, I curled up in bed and watched Schindler's List. Presently I'm still in that puffy-eyed, running-nose, "is this real life?" state.. so I'm thinking of countering pure, raw emotion with mindlessness.. aka The Hangover or another episode of NMtB. yeaaah.

Today I was just reminded of how much I wanted to blog about the fact that Mrs. Fusco calls me Becky. The name Becky is an embodiment of everything I hate. Actually, that's a lie.. although I really do dislike the name Becky. There was a lot of really amazing evidence I was going to supply to back up my argument about the terribleness of the name, but I've forgotten it all.. and this is just for general knowledge now: I really, really don't like that name. I would probably have that name if my mum was actually named Candy instead of Julie, (seriously, those were the names it was apparently narrowed down to for my grandparents) but thankfully that didn't happen.

It's much easier to blog when you're overwhelmed by an emotion, especially considering the sheer mediocrity of everyday life.

Yesterday I went to someone's house to work on a group project for English. Basically, my entire group is filled with people who procrastinate just as much as I do - which is really not a good thing. We worked for two hours and then ended up watching the end of TDK, Shutter, Superstar, Atonement, and Juno.. then, afterward, I went home and watched Dazed and Confused. Which, made me realize how much this era sucks. The fashion, the culture, the people, the history.. all of it is absolutely astounding throughout the past century. But the 21st century? Total suckage.

And on a semi-related note history-wise.. I feel bad for Obama winning the Nobel Peace Price. I think the backlash he'll get for receiving it is going to outweigh any potential benefit it could of had. And for proof of that check some facebook statuses.. seriously, it's not as if he asked for it or anything, but yet it's calling for complete attention towards something that still really hasn't had a hell of a lot of time to develop.

Oh, so I'm going to my cousin's third birthday tomorrow, which promises to be hilarious. My aunt-through-marriage's side of the family is brilliant. Basically a majority of them are pretty much the product of inbreeding: low IQs, alcoholics, clearly lacking any intelligent reasoning. Like I said, it's brilliant, but I'm still confused as to how this family managed to exist living in New England their entire lives, rather than Mississippi.

Plan for today? Continual movie marathon. Thank you HBO.

Today was weird. I walked into school and felt like almost collapsing in the middle of the halls. My body was almost convulsing or something from the inside, and I held my arm out in front of me and watched it move up and down against my will in a sort of overly dramatic sense. It was something sort of like complete exhaustion or fatigue.. but not entirely. To say the least though, it was surreal and I just needed any mass assortment of pills or the like.. I'm better now. I think.

I've yet to decide what I really think about this school year. I feel like I'm endlessly behind everyone else and it's kind of like those nightmares where you keep running and running from something, only to find you've gone nowhere. Done nothing. Accomplished nil.

My grades aren't as good as they've been before and I can't stand it. Literally I cannot physically take it. This is the most important years and I'm already fucking it up with laziness and overall sheer stupidity. Oh. And over-confidence. I'm consistently comparing myself to other people because apparently I need some sense of superiority, and for the first real time I'm realizing how much better SO many other people are than me in the only thing I can do really well in.. school. And it's just stressful, and overwhelming, and I can't believe we're only, what, 25 days into this huge mess and I'm already crumbling under this pressure. THIS pressure, which can barely even constitute as such a thing. I can't handle not meeting my own expectations and it's just ripping me to pieces. And arghgjd;sgs.

Everything's just rushing at me all at once. The concept of actually taking the SATs.. which I should have signed up for on Saturday. I need to volunteer because that's the only way I have even a fighting chance for getting into NHS, although I probably won't since I have - what? A solid 1/2 an hour of volunteer work? Not to mention I'm not going to be this straight A-student anymore.. and it just sucks. It just fucking sucks as I'm watching the only thing I could ever possibly be noticed for disappearing and turning to dust. I don't even know. Plus college? I mean.. I have no job, nothing for extracurriculars, I have nothing special about me to stand out. I can't play a sport, an instrument, I can't even make friends properly, nevermind make it into some amazing school. I can't even get my act together enough to sign up for drive times because, in addition to not being able to excel in school, I can't even excel in driving. My one chance at any true liberation from this family who are appalled by the idea of one of my friend's parents actually ENCOURAGING her to go on a date with an actual boy, and who remind me of my every mistake in school ("Really, Rebekah, an 80 on that test?") and of what a remarkable brother I have and how well he does and school, and how they don't really ever remember me doing that well..

Fuck this. I don't know what's wrong with me. Honestly, a cannon ball is chained to my foot and I've been thrown overboard.

For school, my brother has been writing this autobiography-story-thing that all incoming seventh graders have to do. In it, there's this part requiring you to detail qualities of your siblings, and I was dying to find out what Peter wrote about me. However, he's basically one of the least emotionally responsive human beings ever, so simply asking to see it wasn't going to happen. I tried a few times to sneak into his room and read it but he flipped out, and momentarily I felt stuck, but I honestly couldn't give in. I'm older and therefore have the right to privy into any and every aspect of his life.

So.. I locked him out and broke onto his computer as he hammered on the door and ran to the kitchen to grab the screw driver and pick the lock. I opened microsoft word and speed-read this paragraph about what a nice, great, smart, and funny sister I was. It wouldn't seem like much of a big deal if you didn't know my relationship with my brother. "Fuck you, asshole" is a form of greeting to us. We consistently beat up on eachother and the taller and taller he grows forces me to watch the upper-hand completely slip away. We're so different and at the same time identical, and as he continued to try and break into the room, I exited out of the document and asked him what the name of his paper was again, because I couldn't find it.

I let him in and convinced him I hadn't read it. I guess he didn't want me to read it because he'd feel embarrassed or something, and I figured he was better off not knowing that I knew.

I like the idea of the almost sheer anonymity of an unusual public place. The fact that you can do whatever you want to do, be whoever you want to be, and know that the likelihood of anyone remembering you for it, and defining the rest of your life's existence by it, is fairly unlikely.

Sometimes I want to do things just to see people's reactions. I understand that it's just pure curiosity that is overwhelming me to find out the unknown, but it's funny knowing that the slightest decision or just a few seconds time could really answer some of the entangled mess of my own thoughts. I don't think I'm explaining myself very well.. and I'm not even entirely sure how to put it into words. It's just a powerful feeling, I suppose, knowing that I could have just random thoughts in my head answered instantly if I wanted to. I mean, because there's an infinite number of questions I could never answer about myself, but yet knowing that I could figure things out about other people almost instantly simply based on my own behavior.. own being.. I don't know.. it's nice. It's comforting.

I can't even explain this, but it sounded really good in my head at the time.. Why is everything I try to do like this? A huge, unexplainable mess, and as so, a perfect representation of my brain.

AGH! Okay. So I was watching the Party in The U.S.A. music video this morning because a bunch of people were posting online how trashy it was (and it's fucking catchy, but I'm pretending like I'm above that fact). So I'm listening to the song and my mom comes in and says "What's this song? I like it!"
Me: "Oh. It's er- the new Miley Cyrus song."
Her: "It's really, really good! I like it a lot"
Me: "Yeah.. that's the first time you've ever said that about anything I've listened to"
Her: "I know.. I don't really like your music, it's pretty bland."

So then, when we were in the car driving to soccer this morning I made this playlist in an attempt to prove how un-bland (?) my music taste was. First song: In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, then she asked me to change the song. Next song, Regina Spektor, and she told me it was boring; Andrew Bird, same reaction.

I'm pretty sure I'm adopted.

I'm going to bed at eight thirty because for the first time in my high school experience I don't have any homework due tomorrow. Should I work on some stuff in advance? Probably. Will I? .. 18 minutes left and counting.

http://www.peopleofwalmart.com/
http://www.lookbook.nu
http://strikegently.com

I have no idea what I do with my time.

EDIT:
also.. check: http://www.informationisbeautiful.net/

Lazy blog post: I feel like the living dead right now and the song from Jennifer's Body is definitely stuck in my head. Which is kind of creepy, since now I'm constantly thinking that at any moment some indie band will burst into my room and perform some sort of sacrifice on me. Probably shouldn't have made it into an mp3.

I think I would actually bother going to school dances if I could just go and dance like John Travolta and Uma Thurman did in Pulp Fiction. Actually, I would definitely go then.

I'm basically living for the weekend. That way I can catch up on work and try to just settle myself out. I've been downloading movies all week in anticipation of having free time and right now I have: Vicky Christina Barcelona, Jennifer's Body, Away We Go, and 300 because I still haven't seen the entirety of that yet.

..I'm looking at the PSAT booklet right now and I really don't think poo-colored brown and blue were really the best color choices. Just saying.

Oh. And I've also, recently, come up with some means of justification for my serious procrastination in school work. Basically, in order to get the greatest amount of sleep during the school week, it makes sense to procrastinate. Like rather than staying up until midnight every night this week and feeling like shit the entire time, I'm putting everything off until tomorrow night so I can go to bed at 10 tonight and probably 2 tomorrow night. That way, out of the five school days, I'm only completely and utterly miserable for one. Creating an extremely low, low point makes everything else seem wonderful in comparison. The logic is goood.

I'm such a hypocrite, I pride myself in consistency -- yet in actuality I'm so far from it.

I watched 500 days of summer yesterday. I wish I could have paid for it since it was really wonderful, but nobody was going to take me and I can't take myself yet. I'm perfectly okay with the concept of going to the movies by myself, screw feelings of social oddity. But anyway, I really really really loved the movie, if I didn't make that clear enough. It was hysterical, beautiful, had great music, and really well done. Though I don't think it had its intended effect on me. I think I was supposed to end the movie feeling hopeful, and anticipatory for the future. Instead, the entire thing just kind of fucked with my idea of the concept of love.

I don't think I understand that word entirely yet. I was listening to my grandparents and aunts and uncles and parents all talking a few months ago, they were discussing how loosely the world love is used, and how it's really lost some of its meaning. Which I suppose could be entirely true. On a daily basis I say love an infinite number of times: I love this song, I love this class, I love you, I love him, I love them, I love your shoes, I love your smile, I love that, I love their ideas, I love that picture.. but does it really mean anything? Am I just diluting the word until love becomes synonymous with like, and you lose sense of the differences between the passion that's supposed to be associated with love, and the simplicity behind like? I'm thinking of it more along the lines of not really knowing what love is. In my mind it's this school-girl shit.. an over dramatic buildup of butterflies in the stomach, the presence of some special closeness, a connection well beyond feasibility to any outsider looking in.. but what if that really doesn't exist? I've been stupid enough to think I was "in love" before or whatever, but now when I look back I see only sheer stupidity and shallowness behind it all. That wasn't anything tender or lovey, it was infatuation with something I primarily created in my own head. A build-up ideals that could never exist in reality, but just took shape in the closest, tangible possibility. I think I was so desperate for the existence of something, that I just willed it into being, then, willingly overlooked the realism behind it all.. and I guess I think that's what I figure love to be too. Love is just an imaginary, ~magical~ ideal that doesn't really mean anything, but everyone seems to strive for it because they've built it up in their minds as being something completely unreal, something completely out-of-this-world beautiful ... oh, I don't know.

On a slightly less bitter note, I put some pictures up on flickr and one of them has been viewed 18 times over the past 3-ish days! This is very exiting to me considering I've had stuff up their for a few months now with only 6 views. The only thing that bothers me, is that my most viewed picture is of cake. Now, I have pictures that I think are much better of scenery in Paris and Venice, yet the most noted thing I've done on there is snap a picture of my brothers birthday cake, awesome.

Sometimes I grade my days on some deranged point system that exists only in my head. Like today, when Mr. Jourdain saw me in the hall and told me that he liked my year-long project proposals, the day became +50. And I actually used that term when re-living that brilliance.

Aerobics today was definitely a +10, it was giddy and lovely and wonderful. Granted, I'm sure I won't be thinking like this a few weeks in the future, but for now this is one of the few "new" feelings that I truly enjoy. I love not dreading gym, and not spending the entire period beforehand consumed by this overwhelming sense of fear as I would think about what sport I could embarrass myself with on that day.

-5 for homework, though. I have way too much to do and not enough time. Granted, I acknowledge the fact that I brought this upon myself. I had almost absolutely no homework yesterday, and instead of trying to get ahead I decided to watch Factory Girl. 1 3/4 stars out of 5 if you wanted my opinion. So, basically you have Sienna Miller as Edie Sedgewick aka riches to rags story of the woman who was one of Andy Warhol's greatest muses. I've never realized how freaky Andy Warhol was. He made a lot of porn-ish films, and in one part of the movie there's this implied horse/guys sex scene thing.. Not cool. But the imagery was beautiful, like I'm not talking Sofia Coppola's directing kind of beautiful (which I think is just ridiculously gorgeous - see Marie Antoinette, just overlook EVERYTHING but the imagery) but very pretty all the same. Also, if you happen to be into the idea of seeing either Sienna Miller and/or Hayden Christensen nude then I totes would recommend this shiznit.

And on a completely unrelated note, I feel like I'm living in apprehension of something right now. Like the world is moving and changing, and just.. existing, yet I'm the same. I'm here, waiting. I keep trying to pinpoint some position during my life where instantly, I'll feel as if I'm a part of something significant. When I was younger, I imagined that time would be high school. I would be worldly and mature, yet now I'm so far from it, and I can acknowledge that. In my mind now, I'll be a true part of something in college. Though, to be honest, I don't know what I'd do if I was wrong again.

Today, my Dad was in complete awe at my desire to not get anything at dunkin donuts or even a soda before SAT Prep this morning. It bothered him so much that over the course of the day he kept mentioning things like "You know you're not fat, right?" or "You have my genes, you can eat and eat and eat and you probably won't gain a pound!" It was cute, and he really isn't as bad as I build him up to be in my mind. I feel so overwhelmingly average in the way I manage to consistently label and stereotype other people when everyone is so uniquely static.

Oh. Weird story. My parents were telling me how at my (twin) brother's U12 soccer game today, the Venerini Coach yelled at one of his players: "Stop being such a fucking pussy!" in the middle of the game. Magically the ref managed to overlook it, but every single player and every parent on the sidelines hear it. I mean seriously? You're at a U12, town soccer game for fucks sake.. people are strange. Brilliantly different and wonderful, but equally.. insufferable.

REAL MUSIC SUGGESTION OF THE DAY TODAY: Islands - The xx, and try Crystalised while you're at it. Such an awesome CD, and seeing as I've put in the actual effort to bold this, I'm clearly very serious.

And on a music related note, I really hate Paradise Rock Club in Boston and their elitist 18 and older requirement for nearly every band that comes there. What a joke. Or atleast, I'll hate the rule until I'm 18, and as soon as that happens I'll be so glad the "youngsters" won't be able to get in and ruin the concert experience for me.

It's 8:15 and I am actually presently debating going to bed soon. Though I would hate to rush tomorrow since I'm still going to have to get up at six, to be at the school for seven thirty in order to sit down and take a practice SAT exam that will be worth absolutely NOTHING but the "experience." Oookay. Not to mention the soccer game in the freezing rain tomorrow that could potentially bring an end to a crazy 6-year winning streak..

I wanted to be sure to include some choice quotes from my parents today because I've been finding their antics particularly... well, insane lately. I'm pretty sure this is all just part of growing up and realizing that your parents aren't as faultless as you've spent most your life thinking, but I'm still.. put-especially-off by it.

Me: My hands are freezing.
Mom: Put some slippers on! You're loosing all your heat through your feet.
Me: You realize what I just said, right?
Mom: You're so argumentative! Rebekah, I really hate you today.. awkward silence, then she leaves the room.

and

Dad: "...she was literally treating me like a fucking five year old and I just wanted to fucking punch her in the fucking face"

Like poetry.

No joke, these were verbatim. I'm not especially sure as to why what they do concerns me so much recently, though. And I can't decide whether these constantly fluctuating feelings about them, and life in general really, are the result of being a teenager, or being some hyper-sensitive girl, or simply just being human.

Today was actually a really good day, I think. And part of it was because after being asked what it was necessarily that made me so upset with in everything, I concluded that it's basically because I'm a complete pessimist in regards to pretty much everything. I don't look forward to things, but just dread things to varying degrees. Not like admitting this is really going to change my behavior really, or anything, but I guess recognition of why I, apparently, think I have some sort of right to complain all the time is a step in some sort of progressive direction?

Earlier tonight I was helping my friend Lucie from Argentina with her English homework on MSN. She had to write a pro-choice essay on euthanasia which I thought was pretty interesting actually, especially considering I couldn't imagine ever having work like that in a foreign language class here. She's pretty fluent in English, actually, which is cool and we spend half our time talking about how we plan on seducing Alex Turner, and getting him to marry us. It's funny, and I feel so worldly having a friend from a different country. She was telling me at one point about how brilliant America is and she said something like "even your supermarkets are so much better than ours! they're brilliant!" Which I guess was supposed to be an inspirational moment for me: when I realize how much I take for granted and should appreciate more in my life, when in reality I just kind of saw it as something cute. I hate that. Sometimes I know how I should react to certain things, and yet I don't, actually, at all, and I'm just left with fake emotions that I try to conjure up in an attempt to be what I think I should be.. if that makes any sense?

Alright, it's half an hour later than when I started, so I should actually begin to seriously consider bed . I'm awesome, and apparently 100..cool, cool. Oh yeah, and I told Brian I would definitely blog about our conversation during lunch today about being total creepers and stalking other people's blogs.I can't even deny my own obsessive behavior about reading other people's blogs at all. I like the idea that here, people are completely themselves though plenty aren't during the school day or even beyond that part of your life. It's nice thinking that maybe someone you haven't even met has some sort of idea of who you really are and can't judge you beyond that. Though, I suppose that could be construed as pretty creepish as well.. a thought I'm choosing to completely ignore.

Also, I'm acknowledging the fact that I did not bring my freezing cold self out the football game tonight, as blogging was definitely the warmer (and thereby a thousand times more wonderful) option! Even though I do kind of wonder what would have happened if I actually went. In my mind, being the total pessimist that I am, I would've sat out by myself, surrounded by people in our grade with no idea of who I actually was, and not really caring either, and I would just kind of blush furiously throughout the entire thing as I over-analyzed every little thing that happened. Yet honestly, worst case scenario and probable scenario are intertwined and are the exact same thing in my mind. Like I said, definitely a problem.. ha.

Wow. In any attempts to wrap this up, if I really did some sort of consistent song of the day thing, today's would be Charlotte Sometimes - Waves and the Both of Us. The song has no substance, it's just pop-y and cute. Do it to it.

Normally I would delete the last update for being a blatant attempt at attention, but I was thinking about what Katie said in hers about acting as if this was a personal journal and yet editing my own thoughts, and realized that I wouldn't be using the blog for myself, but for others.. so, whatever.

In art we're drawing a skeleton using the "wink-and-squint-up-your-face" method as a means of finding proportions and angles. Basically, I just did half of it ten minutes ago after ripping my original attempts to shreds. I can't focus in art class, ever. I just need to be in my room, blasting some music that I can sing along to idiotically, and then I'm in as close to an artistic state as I'll ever be. Granted, I'm just going to say that it's definitely not my best.. then again though, it's not a painting or anything either, so i should be pleased.

Today I was staring at an ad and legitimately had some sense of desire and wanting to make a zwinky. Needless to say that need passed about one second later. It sounds really funny to me now, especially considering how half my pre-double-digits years spent on the computer were basically preoccupied by building those stupid blonde dolls that always wore pants with g-strings hanging out.. aha, if anyone has any idea what I'm talking about I will be incredibly impressed.

I need to study for a grammar test, the third test this week for me. Ridiculous.

Oh! And downloaded a bunch of bands that start with the letter B today, which has probably been my primary accomplishment. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, Black Kids, The Battle Of Land And Sea, Basia Bulat, Balance Problems, Beatbeat Whisper, Bedroom Walls, Bella.. and I still have half the other CDs to sort through. Love it.

It's harder than you think, being a ghost. And no, not the type that haunt your dreams or whatever, I mean being forgettable, treading so delicately throughout life so as to leave as close to no impression as possible. Being so caught up in nothingness that when something actually does happen it controls and practically destructs your entire pathetic world. I'm not even pinpointing any certain situations here, if you were wondering, just.. musing.

Whenever my mom gets frustrated with me, she always brings up the fact that I was so outgoing when I was younger, and ultimately trails off to ask 'what happened?' She asks what she or my dad could have possibly done to cause such a change in my behavior. Hah. It's not them or anyone else, just me. Just too preoccupied in the consequences of my every little pathetic action that I decide nothing can only conclusively be the best possible behavior. Which, of course, is ludicrous, I get it.

After downloading an entire gig of music yesterday, I ended up not completely falling in love with anything new but instead listening to "Good Times Gonna Come" by Aqualung on infinite repeat. How 2005. When the song pulls into him saying "This is just one of those... lonely nights" the effect is so beautifully chilling, it's surreal. Absolutely perfect.

Nearly 175 days left of school and I can't wait. I'm not sure which point I'm at on my grief/school scale but if there's an option that says it's literally painful to comprehend the concept of school, than I'm that one. But I think high school has always had this point at the beginning.. I can't wait for acceptance.

No time for anything else.
Music.

I'm fairly certain my thoughts about going back to school reflect the five stages of grief.

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Acceptance

Denial was taking place well before school started, probably when I realized what a complete waste I had turned this past summer into, and couldn't (I suppose still can't) believe that it's time for me to lose half my freedoms again when I wasn't even able to realize I had them in the first place.

I'm definitely in the angry state now. I'm just questioning everyone's motives and feeling ridiculously defensive and slightly paranoid, not to mention a little confused.

Bargaining will start eventually when I start needing to set goals for myself to give myself something to live for: Make it through this week and you can go to the movies.. or something as simple as that. I think I always need something to look forward to, the anticipation and possibilities for something good are help dealing with the present.

Depression.. it's inevitable. At some point I will completely isolate myself, and totally torture myself until..

Acceptance. Likely to come in the middle of the school year. Classes begin to have a sense of normalcy to them, people stop being so foreign. Things fit. Can't wait.

SEVENTY FUCKING PAGES.
ahhhhhhhh.
that = 20,000 words.
i've begun to swear a lot more lately. i'll blame it on my age.

just have to do a poster now and i'm allllll goood :)

Legitimate conversation that just took place.

Me: I wrote 61 pages so far for this ridiculous summer work!
Mom: All in one day?
Me: Clearly..
Mom: What? Rebekah! How long is all of it together?!
Me: 61 pages..
Mom: WHAT?! What happened to all your other work?
Me: That IS it all
Mom: You just told me you wrote 61 pages today though, you've been working on this for weeks!!!

Apparently the concept of sarcasm is completely beyond my mother.

FUUUUUUUUUUCK.
my life.


thanks thoreau. thanks alotttttttt

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nVwQwAqKJE4

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V4zV3-mwsQ8


um, what?

Hello essay number nine.
Hello page thirty four.
What's this? Thoreau is being strangely obscure again?
I'm just wasting time blogging about inconsequential things.
No, never.

I'm kind of writing like rosie o'donnell does on her blog,
except I'm capitalizing and using punctuation.
That way we are ~different.

Um. That got old. I've officially decided I should no longer be concerned about complaining too much on here. Instead,
my complaints can be justified if I announce that they are what is wrong with the world, and my life's methods are the ones that are most beautiful and connected with *NATURE*, thereby the best life options.

I'm bitter and so I've decided to create a new playlist.
1.) Percussion Gun - White Rabbits 2.) Lolita - Throw Me The Statue 3.) Outta Harms Way - King Khan & The Shrines 4.) So Sweet - Jonathan Rice 5.) People C'mon 6.) I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance with You - Black Kids 7.) Begging - The Libertines 8.) She Loves Everybody (RAC Mix) 9.) Little Bit - Lykke Li 10.) Cornerstone - Arctic Monkeys 11.) Sore - Annuals 12.) The Blue Route - The Walkmen 13.) Summer Grof - The Spinto Band 14.) Burial (Benny Blanco Remix Feat. Neon Hitch) - Miike Snow 15.) Sway - The Kooks

You can tell where I gave up on trying to be some cool indie kid and just went for personal favorites.
I'll try harder next time.

Oh. And just to add to this some hint of my extreme procrastinating desperation right now, I've resorted to reading Jonas Brother concert stories, because today, this girl found out my brother has the same birthday as Nick Jonas and nearly had an aneurysm. It was brilliant. Anywhoo in these concert stories, one girl was saying some thirteen year old girl was wearing this neon shirt that had the words "RAPE ME NICK" on it. If I had an sense of decency I suppose I would find a saddening reflection of kids today, yet instead it's just hysterical.

My Walden essays have become less and less pertaining to the prompt, and more obsessed with complaining about what a huge hypocrite this man is. I think he's like communism. All wonderful and ~*magical*~ hypothetically, but in actuality.. well, far from it.

I went to the movies yesterday, and re-remembered my life goal to spend an entire day at the movie theaters some time. Planning some elaborate schedule out with someone to watch only pieces of the movies that we don't want to see, and leaving them halfway through to see all of the ones we actually want to watch. It seems so simplistic, so effortlessly fun.. yet, I can't even imagine myself actually doing it.

ennui.

(or am i saved?)

Today has been amusing. We spent the day with my dad's cousins, which has actually been strangely enjoyable despite the fact I really barely know them.

There's my Dad's cousin Peter who's a doctor, and is apparently who my brother was named after. He's funny. He sounds EXACTLY like Kevin Spacey. His sister's dog is absolutely in love with him and at one point he said: "You're a dog, you've always been a dog - this relationship could never work!" It amused me to no end. Every time I meet him though (which is around once a year or two) he shakes my hand and acts like we've never met one another. I'm not sure if he's doing that for my sake or his own. Though, I'm not really bothered if he doesn't remember me too much. He has so many other things to think about. 10 years ago his family lived in Zimbabwe to volunteer in helping re-build villages there or something? I'm not entirely sure, but his whole family is in a completely different world than my own.

Peter's sister: Anne, is equally as curious. She was a nun but at the same time remarkably cool? She loves reading and well, she's just brilliant. She was telling us a story about how back when she lived in a convent in the 70s, and they were cleaning the place out and found a gun. And how she thought it almost would've been cool to keep it. Now, just the thought of a nun finding it completely bad ass to own a gun is just funny to me.

Not to mention, I enjoy both of them because a doctor even told me he finds Thoreau dry and feels bad about all my summer work.

In addition to today, I think I broke my little toe, which is ridiculous as I have now broken both my pinky finger and toe. Though, luckily, I don't think this toe will turn out nearly as awkward looking as my finger. Peter told me it was probably broken, but I shouldn't waste my time with the emergency room and getting x-rays, because all I can really do is tape the thing..

The other day, my mum stated that a passerby could easily mistake my brother and I for twins. Now my brother is twelve, and I'm sure it was supposed to be some quip on her part, mocking my height and my childish attitude in the store at the time, (I'm sorry that cart racing was not "age appropriate") but I quite liked the comment. Lately, I've just been calling Peter "twin" instead of his real name.

He's a funny kid. Sometimes I'm fairly sure he's the male version of myself. Like today, for example, when we were all eating dinner and my youngest brother pointed out a baby mouse climbing across the floor. Before I could even properly react, Peter was standing on top of his chair peering down at the thing. It was brilliant, and everyone gave him shit for it but I liked his reaction much better than my father's, which involved mercilessly beating the little thing with a dustpan.

I guess the biggest difference between him and me is the fact that the kid is a natural athlete. He's been trying out for the Olympic Development Team the past two weekends and my dad's convinced he's going to make it. Granted, few father's really would chose to be certain of their child's potential failures, but I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he did - in fact - make it. He doesn't really want to do it, but he can't so no to Dad. He's so caught up in trying to please him that he'll willingly give up doing things for himself.

He's a cool kid, my twin. It's funny, my mum and I were spying on him just the other day surrounded by a group of girls who were trying to talk to him. To us, it was hysterical, especially considering how anti-social he can be. But I loved it all the same.. I honestly cannot wait to watch him grow up.

Today, my family went out to eat at a Chinese restaurant and I've found myself endlessly amused by my fortune:

:) People find it difficult to resist your persuasive manner. :)

Upon reading this I immediately said "kinky" and my mom gave me a dirty look.

Wow. So last night I'm pretty sure I had the greatest dream ever, even though I still can't really lucid dream like I planned to learn how to do this summer.. but who's counting when it comes to unaccomplished goals? Anyway, basically Simon Pegg was one of my teachers in school and to make a long story short, I ended up marrying him. That's right. The greatest dream ever on my part pertains, apparently, to the thought of domestic bliss with a celebrity. Simple minds, simple pleasures and what not..

I rejoined civilization for the past few days, which was definitely quality. I like friends. What I do not like is the helpless, sinking feeling I'm getting watching myself falling further and further behind on my AP Language and Comp work. The history kids have the acronym APUSH.. and APLAC just really doesn't do it for me. Most likely because it has too much of a resemblance to AFLAC, and then I start to hear the obnoxious duck in my ear.

Today has been a day involving, primarily, fear. Honestly, it's probably all I've been thinking about (other than beloved Walden, that is).

To begin with, the day started off absolutely miserably because I knew I was getting a shot. They're really not a big deal, I know that inside, but I just don't have the mental capacity to handle accepting the actuality of receiving them. To be pathetically honest, I spent the entire five minutes at the hospital just crying because I couldn't handle it. Awesome, to be an overly emotional girl.. Anyway, would it seem less pathetic if I tried to justify my immense fear? What always gets me is remembering the earliest possible encounter with shots I can re-live. I was probably three or four, and just remember the entire scene as sterile. With the hard, white floors, the obnoxiously bright lights, the glaringly empty wall, and the sounds of the crinkling wax paper beneath where I sat. I remember the nurse coming towards me with the needle in her hand and something in my mind just clicked, and I freaked, laid back on the bed and started kicking and screaming, trying to keep everyone as far away from me as possible. Actually kicking the needle out of the woman's hand before my mum grabbed hold of me, pressed me down, and they administered the shot. That doesn't really explain it though, there was some need inside of me to panic, like the air got lighter and my mind just.. flashed or fried or something? Well, I don't know, just.. whenever I'm close to getting a shot again the similar panic builds up inside of me and I just feel lost, and confused, and.. well, that I need to find a way out. I'm not really sure if you can call it re-living a traumatic experience, because I mean c'mon - it was a shot.. but itdefinitely stuck with me.

Though, shots are definitely one of my biggest fears, in actuality the thing that eats me up inside every day is the thought of failure. I'm stressing out right now thanks to my sheer inability to plan ahead effectively, and now I'm stuck trying to finish a heavy amount of work in a short amount of time. The thought of not getting some of this AP work done in time for school is absolutely terrifying. I've been having dreams about school ever since we got our schedules.. but they're less of dreams and more like nightmares. It's ridiculous that I can't accept the results of a mistake or simply not being good enough.. and yet there are going to be times when what I do is not enough, and when that time comes.. wow. This makes the future, well, a definite concern to say the least. The possibility that I might not be able to do everything I expect to do..

Argh. Too much.

Just to wrap with my other worst fear here (since apparently three things can exist within one superlative in my eyes). This one is kind of weird, actually, it's really weird. There's this man in some of my dreams (again with the dreams.. but just take a moment to note this true fact right here: apparently, every person you ever see in your dreams you have seen before. It's impossible to just make up the people that exist in your dreams, and this has something to do with the parts of your brain functioning when you sleep.. I'm not entirely sure, but I definitely read that on one of those strange but true fact sites) that just.. petrifies me. When I'm awake I can't imagine him, but every few years I have a dream about this person, and I just live in creeped-out fear for days on end, and I'm not even entirely sure why. I think it's the voice - I'd recognize it the moment I heard it.. though I can't describe it.. It's such a weird notion really. Fearing this person who I randomly encountered at one point in my lifetime.. but I feel like it's something significant.. something strange. Like if I was ever murdered - that would totally be the guy to do it. NOT THAT I THINK SOMEONE IS TRYING TO KILL ME, OR THAT I WILL BE KILLED OR ANYTHING. It's just that.. I can't even explain it in words. But it exists, and constantly pverhemls me with fear, even though I have no means of really understanding it (him?) whatsoever. It's confusing..

Wow.. hah, I swear I'm not a complete nutter! I just felt like sharing.

My dad has told me he has no idea what is wrong with my computer and we may be forced to "nuke it." Now either he means we're putting it in the microwave, or, it may be time to begin casket shopping. My best friend.. gone. Condolence cards as well as flowers will be accepted. I am officially alone.

I was looking around the internet and I found this: http://www.goldinuniverse.com/
Everyone who does it seems really impressed with the accuracy of the results, so I did it.. Mine ended up kind of depressing, though - I guess - uplifting at the same time? Not sure what to think.

Presently, you are trying to break away from a situation that is causing you considerable worry and concern. Things are getting on top of you and you are feeling depressed almost to breaking point. Obviously there must be a way out - but at this time the solution seems to be escaping you. You want to 'get away from it all' and as a consequence you appear to be sullen and introverted and refuse to get involved in any discussion or arguments which could aggravate the situation. Accept the fact that 'as you feel - so your body will respond' and 'pretend' to the world about you that everything is going beautifully as, if you act as if 'all is going well' everything will, whether you believe it or not, work out as you would like it to.

For some time now you may have been subjected to considerable physical illness and or emotional distress. This may have taken a severe toll and you feel both physically and mentally worn out. Your self esteem has been reduced and you now need a peaceful environment which will permit you to effect full recovery.

Everyone, sooner or later gets that feeling that one has been cut off from reality, cut off from everything that's going on around them. It usually happens when there is a complete lack of understanding and co-operation - be it from friends, family or loved ones. So what can one do about it? Instead of pondering as to what the future may hold, do something different. Make a cup of coffee. Have a shower. Read a book. Watch your favourite soap opera. Because as soon as you become involved in something different, the original disassociated feelings will dissipate.

You are experiencing considerable stress which is essentially the result of on going rejection and hostility. You are in the unpleasant position where offers of trust, affection and understanding are being withheld and you are being treaded with a degrading lack of consideration. You feel that you are being denied the appreciation that you deserve, which is essential to your well-being and self-esteem, but you have to face up to the situation because as matters stand at this time there is little that you can do about it - you feel that you are getting nowhere and the continuous struggle is a lonely one: all difficulties and no encouragement. Whatever you try to say or do is met with continuous hostility and no matter how much you protest you are consistently misunderstood. You need to escape from the situation but you are so perplexed that you cannot find the strength of mind to make the necessary decision.

In the past your trusting attitude has often been misunderstood and so you have needed to protect yourself against your tendency to be abused and taken advantage of. As a consequence you possibly adopt an aloof and critical attitude and you are only willing to let your guard down once sincerity and trustworthiness can be assured.

Invisible

(This is a separate entry from above)

If a tree falls in the woods and no one is there to hear it - does it really make a sound?

... Does it matter? No one cares.

wow.


i am free.

I'm back. Sort of. Things have changed.

Well, not as much as I would've liked them to. I was planning on coming back to blogging a new person. Yeah, I know, talk about realism. Instead I've returned two weeks later, very much the same.. just slightly more self-aware? At least hopefully more so, since these past two weeks in the classroom have been consumed with more personal thought than actual learning. Which is a surprise, considering how beloved parent-forced business camp and drivers ed sound like they should be.

Lately I can only fall asleep listening to music, and I really enjoy it that way since I have far too much new stuff to listen to, and there's really never enough time in the day. It's kind of funny what happens. I immerse myself in the covers, even if it's ninety degrees in my room, under the belief that any exposed limb could very well not be there in the morning. As if the blanket was some kind of shield, separating me from the imaginary force that is going to cut me clean as I sleep. I'm five years old. But anyway, listening to the music allows me to concentrate on one thing and one thing only, as I feel the rest of myself shut down and turn off, and right before I fall asleep my hearing fades as if the music isn't playing anymore - although I know it's there - and I exist in emptiness until my mind slows completely and I disappear. It's comforting, and at times I find myself wishing I could disappear in a similar way, even in full-consciousness, though I reckon the music does even let me partially do that. Whenever I'm feeling an extreme emotion, be it happiness, sadness, frustration, rejection, anything.. music makes it all better. Sort of.

Summing up life happenings for me lately? Dad's work's camp was - uh - interesting, to say the least. Granted, there was actually some really helpful information in it, it was still.. well.. long. I did have Heather and temporary friends there, though, which improved the situation. A LOT. Not to mention in our group presentations to a few managers or something at the company, I was totally praised for my graphic designs and explanation for something. Which was quality and earned me a fifteen dollar itunes giftcard. Hah, wasn't entirely sure what to do with that.. but most the funds went to software upgrade for my ipod touch. The ability for landscape typing and to search for stuff wouldn't have been worth my own $10.

Then we went to Salem for the weekend to drop my brothers off at soccer camp. There, I was 10 minutes away from an awkward confrontation. I kept imagining something would happen, though, of course it didn't. I tend to believe more on chance, despite knowing that it truly means nothing. Deep inside I know that then, and even this upcoming week nothing will happen. It's done. 1 year, I guess, wasted. But still. This idiotic, childish, helpless, completely naive side of me still lives on. I kind of hope the impending disappointment will just kill it.

I think Driver's Ed this past week was the longest one I've had in a while. I liked seeing Lara again, and was reminded of fifth grade when she was basically my best friend. We didn't really connect until the last day at lunch, as we rewarded ourselves with two massive pieces of the rotating chocolate cake, but that ended as soon as other people sat down with us.. I think I can attribute part of the class's length to the beloved Bob Robertson, who really needs to just sit back and retire - seriously. The other part goes to the people. The people who are caught up, convinced of their own superiority over everyone, and their right to criticize everything they don't agree with. Not that I did anything to stop them.. I'm not that strong of a human being. All I can do is facelessly complain about their attitude in the unreal-internet-world, and think that's sufficient enough.

On a disconnected, music-related note again (hah, note.. funny). Humbug by the Arctic Monkeys leaked this weekend and I'm obsessed. Cornerstone, Secret Door, Crying Lightning, Dangerous Animals.. too good. Hah, just sharing that review for everyone. Five stars, easy. A lot of people have a problem with it being a lot different than their other stuff, more QOTSA influenced - and though I do see the difference, it's not necessarily bad.. change is fine. Change, a sense of being static.. it's necessary. I, especially, think I need it.

As of right now, I want to think change will be a greater part of my life. Rather than just sitting on my ass complaining about how much next week is going to suck balls (which it is.. mentally at the very least) I'm going to try and do something about it. Or atleast live throughout it instead of just existing. Part of that includes doing the 30 day Shred. It's this ridiculous 30 minute workout that basically kicks your ass, but it sounds like it gives extraordinary results and change, and that's exactly what I want.. Something extraordinary.

Wow. I guess I had a bit to say. I did miss this doing this, pouring my soul and what not, I just couldn't stand it. And on a last note that finishes off everything I can possibly think of writing right now, I'm just going to state the fact that Russel Brand and Noel Fielding are the funniest people on earth.

That's all.

I'm going to take a break from blogging until I can start being coherent again.

I love how Creep has been the general population's defining song for Radiohead, when in reality it's easily forgettable amongst all their other songs. Creep could've been from any band in the early ninetines- given the generation of rockish borderline grungy material coming to a slow close. I'm not saying it's not a good song, I'm just saying it really shouldn't be the defining song for people who don't especially know the band. Why is this important and blogworthy? Dunno.. I was just thinking about it today, and it's been bothering me.

If you happened to look to right of the page and then southwards, you will have noticed that my collection of links to websites that can be personalized to pertain only to myself (as if that were all that mattered) has grown. Tumblr is confusing although exciting. It's kind of a combination of flickr-twitter-blogger-facebook, which could possibly explain why the word is such a mess. Anyway, people just post random pictures/quotes/readings they've found on the internet that they enjoy, and then if people like similar things they can follow them and be exposed to more nice things. I've wasted a fair majority of the day on there (and flickr), and I can barely consider it time wasted, when in reality it is since nerd-fest (aka my dad's business camp he signed me up unwillingly) begins Monday. 9AM-4PM, Monday to Thursday this week, I will be wallowing in self-pity - which believe it or not, is a moderate change from the norm - as usually I don't wallow.. just float.

Oh! I just read this fml and it actually made me smirk in reality, I thought I had completely given up on these: Today, I received a "diamond ring" in Mafia Wars (a facebook app) from my boyfriend of 3 years. Along with the ring came a message. It read, "Will you marry me?" He was serious. FML... and in addition to being mildly amused by this Cher just came up on iTunes shuffle (Believe of course, kids!)

On a related note to that FML, that sort of reminds me of what I saw on the MTV show Sixteen & Pregnant. This twenty something year old guy knocked up his sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girlfriend, and then went to Wal-Mart to buy her an engagement ring. Upon purchasing a $21 ring, he then preceded to ask about Wal-Mart's return policy. The show is kind of trashy, out of the six or seven teenage girls that got pregnant, only one of them even considered adoption and did - in fact - give her child to an adult couple. That was the best one, like considering-crying worthy. Basically there were these two kids who were more adult than their own jail-bird, drug-addicted parents were (these parents actually encouraged them to KEEP the baby) and were set upon providing their daughter with the best life possible. It was really.. nice, especially compared to all the other IQ-less parents the show presented. If your ever stuck with a television where Hannah Montana, Judge Judy, CSPAN, and this show are the only options.. try it, it's - er - interesting.

Oh - wow! My "tumblarity" on tumblr just cranked up to a 3. That makes me the 29,065th most popular person in the U.S. on Tumblr.. not even kidding. Things are looking good.

But yeah.. I have a flickr too! A lot of the pictures are really old (as in some from 2004..) but I edited them up, and I actually like some of them. Check it outttt - but set your expectations low, as things are nowhere near the quality everyone with ridiculously amazing cameras can produce.

I have nothing to do tonight, but I'm going to see Half-Blood Prince tomorrow with my uncle! Well, most likely. From what I've read online: something to do with Ginny and shoelaces is disturbing, Rupert Grint is all sorts of brilliant and DanRad on Felix Felicis is hysterical. I was watching him (DanRad) on Alexa Chung the other day (btw, she is easily the most annoying TV host ever. I hate her interviewing style.. and just because she's Alex Turner's gf does not mean she deserves to be paid any attention to. ) and he seemed really funny and genuine, and taller than he comes out as in the Harry Potter movies.. just incase anyone cared.

If you've noticed, I've given up on using the beautiful semi-colon for now. Too much effort goes into me analyzing and trying to decide where I think one should go.

And on an additionally random note - I just remembered music videos exist, which has led to the past hour being spent watching them. It's kind of funny because all the videos for the Last Shadow Puppets are identical. They're basically: Hey Miles and Alex, please walk around slowly and try to resemble the Beatles as much as possible, now mouth the words to your lyrics with as limited of an expression as possible as you wander through various terrains. It's good.

Well, this has been nice.. and fairly limited in random bitchings. I'll end it here.

Two blogs on the same day, sorry.

But ooooh MSN messenger, just because I no longer have any friends on you does not mean you should just kick me off completely. Heartbreaking.

I'm watching the end of The Departed right now; I'm doing this partially out of love, and partially because everyone else has gone to bed (and it's really the only thing I can do right now). I've been reading every day this entire vacation, and I can't presently bring myself to do much more of it. Part of my readings this vacation is what led for the need to put a semi-colon in the first sentence. I'm not even sure if it's grammatically correct or not, but I'm trying really hard to use punctuation correctly - or at least for the time being. After reading Eats, Shoots & Leaves for English, I have this extreme desire to effectively and masterfully use punctuation, because it's actually an art. The book is hysterical, and even though I don't, at this very moment, remember all the rules... (that is called an ellipsis!) I will when I go back and take notes on it. An act I actually want to do, no joke. This book has actually made me not dread punctuation.

Well, okay, after that oddity, onto mildly more interesting things. Today, I decided a number of things: mini-golf is one the most irritable, painful games a person could play; I love airports; and the fact that lately, I've been forcing myself to believe things just for the sake of having something to believe in.

I think my complete hatred of mini-golfing comes from the simple fact that either you're good at the thing, or your not; there's no in-between (once again throwing out a huge question mark for that). Either you're like me, and try as you might you will always tap the ball too softly and go nowhere near the hole, or simply overshoot out of sheer frustration. OR else you're one of those people who somehow manage to effortlessly sink the ball in the whole, without even giving it a thought. It doesn't help, either, when you're looking out at the other people playing, and watch five-year-olds succeed in doing what you would consider the impossible. Awesome.

Numero dos. I'm not really certain what, necessarily, triggered the thought, but I was just reminded of how much I love airports. Whenever I'm getting ready to take a flight, there's always this nervous sense of anticipation where I'm convinced absolutely anything can happen. I think another life goal for myself will be to, at some point, just pack my things, go to an airport, buy tickets for a random plane, and just... live. The spontantinuity of it all just sounds like a complete dream. Something I couldn't prepare for, something I would be left guessing about, something I couldn't stress about endlessly, I could just do.

And to address the third "realization," there's not especially much to it. I just feel like lately I've been making decisions about certain things only for the sake of feeling normal, and to have set expectations. When realistically, I feel certain ways not through my own personal emotions as much as the need to have those... feelings? It makes much more sense in my head.

I've lost all sense of focus for this. Instead, I will now indulge myself in this ridiculousness of taking Hugh Grant seriously. Night.

I'm actually getting to blog here! Not sure if this is a one time thing or not but it helps me feel much more connected to the rest of the world, even just geting to go on here once.

This is the first time I've ever been to the Cape so it's proving interesting.. we're staying in West Denni, if that means anything to anyone. It' moderately amusing here. We're surrounded by all these nice houses and million dollar boats, and then there's our single story house and barely-a-boat-in-comparison just kind of chillin' out. There's a "teen dance" at the yacht club. My god. My parents keep bringing it up as if it's actually something I would legitimately consider. I don't even go to dances at school, never mind with a bunch of posh, beach-house-owning rich kids. I'm stereotyping.. I know, but I would definitely classify my family as a fish out of water. It's cool though.

There was a massive thunderstorm here last night - and I kept slipping in and out of conciousness because I couldn't really sleep. I kept waking up at random points during Jenny Lewis songs so they all started to blend together until I woke up and my ipod was off to the side, all wrapped up, sitting on the table by my bed. I love doing things subconciously in my half-asleep states, and then waking up surprised by what I managed to do.

I just decided I'm in love with the guy mowing the person's lawn next door. Even despite the fact that I'm pretty sure seeing him was a one time occurence, and I've already forgotten what he looked like.. yeah, so the wedding is next week if anyone is interested.

The place we're staying in is pretty cute though.. just to continue on random-thought tangents here. There are bunnies that just hop around the entire neighborhood area. I tried to take a picture of one, but it sprinted off - and I was left standing in the front yard cursing senselessly. I've been swearing a lot lately for no particular reason. The way my brother and I greet eachother is now through casually flipping eachother off. It's great.

Speaking of my brother.. I need to rant. Okay, so in my mind it's imperative that I must exsist as a superlative. I'm not content until I can consider myself "the best" at something. Within my family it's usually been I am the smarter, school-obsessed one, Peter is the sports one, and Jacob is the third child and to be musical genius.. once he finally commits. But here's the thing, both my parents are now convinced - though they deny it to my face - that Peter is smarter than me. I cannot deal with this. Not being able to exsist as the best at something, even within my own family, makes me think I'll start acting like I do at school. Which, at times, is basically a barely there exsistance and chosing not to be noticed in an attempt for my flaws to also not be noticed.. I don't like the thought of that happening, especially in another major portion of my life.. but I'm worried, it's really been bothering me, and where better to express these concerns then to my blog, right? Right.

Okay, see? It felt better getting that off my chest. All is well. I think I'm going to climb on the roof (which we can do here! well.. not under the permission of my parents, but when no one is looking) and spy on the kid mowing the lawn. Fun.

I feel like I should have a lot to say right now because tomorrow I'm shipping off to The Cape for a week and probably won't be able to blog often, if at all. But unfortunately I have, basically, nothing.

Something moderately funny that happened today was when I was asking my mum what we would be doing down there, so I could try and gauge how many Harry Potter books I should bring with us. She recommended that I bring Prisoner of Azkaban, Goblet of Fire, and Order of the Pheonix. To me, this says something serious about the upcoming week.. I'm concerned.

In midst of my complete state of boredom today I decided to upload all the songs on my ABC playlist. I know I'm shameless, but if you were interested try: this link here

Um.. lately I've been having some pretty sick dreams, and in addition to that I've also decided why I always suspect people about lying when telling their own. There are limited stories out there that we, as individuals, are the only ones that could possibly confirm or deny - dreams being a part of that. Meaning that you can completely fabricate them and no one in the world could really have a clue of whether or not you did, as long as you're a reasonable liar. With a possibility like that, and the simple fact that whenever your re-telling a dream you're almost trying to prove yourself as interesting as possible - what is really stopping the teller from lying? But anyway, thse dreams were just.. unsettling. One kind of involved these series of attacks where people kept trying to kill me, while the other involved me taking a final for a class that required me to shave off my hair. The only reason I bring this up is because I was saying earlier how I hoped to be able to lucid dream this summer.. and I'm doing a pretty shit job at managing to do that. And this isn't especially comforting considering the other goals of mine that I put down here. I could always change them to lifetime goals? Though with lifetime nothing seems final, it seems like there aren't any deadlines.. which makes me even less likely to accomplish them. Kind of funny that I can manage to procrastiate even with things I actually want to do.

It's taken me a while to write this and I'm not entirely sure why. Sometimes I have to hold myself back when writing these, yet other times I'm truly amazed by how little actually happens around here. Oh! My fingers got misaligned and I spelled "around" wrong for a second and spell check suggested "areola" .. not quite.

So I'm kind of in a state of panic at the moment. Something is making noises in my room.. and since I can't attribute this oddity to any known cause, I've logically concluded that there are mice climbing through my walls. And since I've convinced myself of this, I've also decided I should not walk on the floor because if I do rodents will attack me. Yeah.. trust me - hallucinogenic drugs, never again.. (definitely a joke..)

And before I try and re-create the amazing day I had yesterday could I just express how amazing WebMD is? I don't need to pay a doctor.. I can be my own doctor, suckaaaah. No, but seriously, whenever I feel like shit I always end up there - diagnosing myself with every known malady, regardless of how ridiculous it might be. Presently, I've just decided I have tonsil stones. But anyway, what I think I like about it so much is the fact that when you're sick, you're truly the only one who knows what your feeling. And WebMD is one of the few ways you can actually discover the reason as to why you, and you alone, are feeling a certain way. I feel like an advertisement, but I don't know.. it's just comforting, sometimes, when something out there can answer the questions about yourself that you alone could not.

This entire day could be summarized with nothingness. The only significant thing I've been doing is fuming over the last.fm comment I received: "a little rocker! great! high compatibility (:" This message came from a notably sketchy guy from Chile. This could easily be interpreted as a nice thing, but being the analytical, narrow-minded individual that I am, this has been bugging me. "A little rocker" how cutesy. I feel like he would've been pinching my cheeks and speaking in a baby voice if he had approached me and said this in real life.

The most notable things that happened to me lately happened yesterday. Emily came over and we stayed up to the early hours talking. I loved talking, and after I brought up so many of the things that have been bugging me lately I felt more at peace.. more resolved then I have in such a long time. While venting about useless, mindless things I kind of realized what a complete teenager I still am. I build up all these problems, all these issues, in my head and yet am incapable of doing anything about them. It's not that I'm helpless to do anything in regards to them, it's just that I act that way because I'm so convinced of my own thoughts and beliefs I refuse to see any other way. Talking helped me realize this complete childish sense of stubbornness.. but saying that makes it almost sound like a negative thing.. it really wasn't though, I loved every second we were talking.

When we woke up, we biked out to the center of town to gorge ourselves on food. Our journey, however, brought about the realization of how completely out of shape I am, as my legs were jelly by the time we entered the pizza place. Not that I didn't know this already, but it further confirmed my beliefs. However, these jelly legs of my mine may or may not have earned the rights to some construction worker's phone numbers. Yeah, man. I'm pretty sure that was a joke on the part of the pizza guy, but convincing myself of receiving attention like that is just too tempting. While we were there, we texted Joey and ended up having him eat the rest of our food before the three of us headed off to the center of town. You could tell the storm was coming and I wasn't really sure what we were planning to do. Actually, I don't think any of us were planning much of anything in regards to the impending weather - we were all just living in the moment. As the rain began to worsen and it began to thunder, we all decided then was the best time to race down to Joey's house.

It was a thrill. At first we were just sprinting through the grass, but the second Em and I reached our bikes the rain worsened and we all began to make our way down the sidewalk towards what I guess could be considered safety. It was brilliant. The faster I peddaled, the harder the rain struck me, and I don't even necessarily remember what I was thinking or what I was saying. In fact, I don't think I was actually thinking much of anything. I was just living in the world around me, I felt the rain, felt the wind, felt the cold overwhelming my body. I felt the pedals underneath my feet, even felt the smile on my face.. but I wasn't actually thinking anything. I wasn't worried, I wasn't stressed, I was nothing - yet at the same time I was everything.

We stopped at Joey's house only temporarily, and then once again Em and I set off into the rain. The journey back home was mostly downhill and was basically effortless. Once again, I was feeling the warm air hit my cold skin, watching the mud kick up and soak my legs, feeling myself swerve back and forth as I screamed and laughed and rode my bike with no handlebars, no handlebars.. I wasn't thinking I was just being. The entire ride home was like that, the two of us, just existing within an emotion, within a world that wasn't all there. Even as cars drove past, soaking us further, they meant nothing - they were nothing. I was a complete mess and yet I didn't care.. how could I of?

We stopped at the pond midway between our houses and debated skinny dipping in broad daylight just to further live in, and further extend this beyond perfect moment. Because all of it was truly timeless, it was wholly wonderful, it was.. free.

I have a confession to make. If you look at my profile right now it will say I have around 150 page views. This is a complete lie - as about 90-100 of those have been me. See.. something feels so nice when I sit and look at my blogger profile while holding down F5 and watching the numbers climb.

Wow, I should've Post-Secreted this shiznit, I feel completely liberated now. Thank you.

Oh, and I made the mistake of blogging twice within the same day again. The section below was written at around 12:30 this morning..

Hoooooooly shit. ABC playlist is done, bitch! Check it: http://songza.com/reallyrebekah

I've decided right now is the time to listen to all of it as a whole thing whilst I update the world on my life. Yesterday, I watched the Bourne Identity for the first time ever - as I have deemed the summer as the best time to catch up on my lack of movie exposure. Anyway, was it wrong that I really wanted Marie to get killed? I actually wanted her to die as much as I wanted Sophia Coppolla to die in the Godfather III, so we're talking about some passionate hatred here. I'm not necessarily sure why. But I do know that I was left very relieved at the end of the Godfather - this, not as much.

Last night I was bored and not immersing myself in the playlist making mindset and was, instead, skimming through late night TV. Which, might I point out, is always guaranteed to be hilarious. I watched BBC America for a solid hour, and during this time I watched a documentary about the 'pregnancy pact' as well as a brilliant show called How do you Solve a Problem Like Maria? The search for the newest woman to play Maria in a recreation of The Sound of Music. But those aren't even important in comparison to Dance your Ass Off. It basically combines the genius behind Dancing with the Stars, but replaces the "Stars" with The Biggest Loser Contestants. Then, to even further the disgusting state of this show, they put them in hooker costumes and have them dance around in front of everyone. Truly remarkable. I think it's on Oxygen if anyone's interested..

While I was out in the living room watching this garbage I love so deeply, my youngest brother, Jacob, came out. He sleep walks. It's always a little scary at first, because you can tell he isn't all here. Sometimes he'll mutter things about having to hide from the people shooting him, or that he's looking for something, and it's at that point where you have to say something like "Oh yeah.. go hide in your bed, Jake, they won't find you there. I promise." And he always goes back to bed, but it's always such a surreal expereince. Usually he doesn't remember when or why he does things, but it's eerie and not really as funny as I could make such a situation out in my mind to be.

I'm so awake. This is a problem. I think I can contribute part of it to my newest bad habit: eating lemonade powder. Strange, I know. On a dare I ate a few spoonfuls of it and I've been weirdly addicted to it ever since. If I'm hungry I go to the closet for a spoonful of lemonade powder, if I'm thirsty I pour a bunch of powder in my mouth and then take a swig from the sink. This is probably an issue.. seeing as that stuff if almost completely sugar. Though I guess I can clearly attribute the cause of my sugar rush to something.

I really wish I had something interesting to say other than these useless stories.. but I have nothing.

The ABC playlist has been narrowed down to 228 songs, which is actually much better than I expected. Though I should mention the choices for X, Q, and Z are kind of.. forced, but all and all I'm actually fairly happy with all of it.

Very little has happened lately. I feel kind of cut off from the rest of the world, but I'm not necessarily doing anything to change that so I can't complain.

Today my dad, brothers, and I went out "boating." Which, in fact, mostly consists of the entire Spanish-speaking population of Worcester shooting around on jet skis, laughing at us "gringos" as we putt around in the water on this old school boat my dad brought back from the dead. Oh! So if you happened to drive by the Worcester YMCA today and looked out at the lake - you may have seen me. I was the one sleeping.

My sleeping schedule has been off lately.. even for the summer. I can't sleep when I want to, and end up feeling completely effete (intelligent word of the blog) at the most inconvenient times. I feel like an insomniac.

I've re-read this three times now, and nearly all lexical choices are pretty much failing on me at this point. I'm gone.