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.