Oh Dear God, you're beautiful.

Tuesday, December 30, 2008

why did i even wake up?

My mother woke me up this morning because I'm supposed to ski. I'm supposed to be at the shack ("CMAC shack": where the different levels meet at different times in the morning for pre-training pep talks) at 8:10. It's 8:04 as I write this. I woke up and went HEYYULL NAW I'm not waking up this morning. Slept badly, yuck. So I went downstairs and told my parents I didn't feel up to it. Which earned me a lecture from a certain Mr. Jose Gaitan, "You're not serious about skiing, I'm not going to pay for it!", to which I adamantly argued, "I've been skiing sick for the past five days, give me a break." I won.
But then I couldn't get back to sleep. FML.
I'm thinking about eating some breakfast...
I'll be updating this as the day goes on, as I'll be home all freaking day. I think. Maybe I can find an Enumclaw buddy to hang out with, as long as I'm not down there. Except, if I'm not well enough to ski then I probably wouldn't be allowed to hang out with someone.
What the fuck. So I'm unofficially grounded because I "rode in cars with people" on Halloween. Hallo-fucking-ween. I don't even remember telling anyone that I rode in cars with anyone. I didn't even know I wasn't allowed to ride in cars with anyone. Namely boys/Preston. But they didn't know about Preston then. Hell, I hardly knew about Preston then. Whatever.
I want some fucking oatmeal. Unnecessary profanity.

It's 1:12. Boy, I have the most killer mood swings.
I just took a shower and I'm kind of grouchy and I'm hoping to God that I can go to Ali's tonight with Kay. I need to see both of them. I need to talk to people. I need to see Zach or someone.
Feck. Panic meet the preeessssssssss.
Wow, I've been listening to A Fever You Can't Sweat Out by Panic! at the Disco for the past couple days. Reminds me of Greece, the summer before 8th grade. Kay came on the boat with my parents and I that summer and we took the boat from Corfu, Greece to Marmaris, Turkey. The whole way we listened to my little first generation iPod Shuffle, which only contained about 98 songs, mostly Green Day or Children of Bodom. Haha. But Fever was on there too. When we were on Ithaca, Kay and I sung at the top of our lungs, every single song. I miss that.
I am going to get dressed and fanaggle my father into letting me down to Enumclaw now.

Monday, December 29, 2008

also

I have the biggest thump-thump hearts-in-eyes sigh HOLY MACKEREL crush on Rachel Maddow.
Aqui.
Oh my God. What a woman. I...don't...even know. WOW. AMAZING.

Also, WHOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMAN MY MONSTER IS KICKING IN.
CAFFEINE + GINSENG + L-CARNITINE + TAURINE + B VITAMINS
My God. Going to die. Never let me drink one of these fuckers again.

Am I the only one that does not understand Abercrombie ads? They're a clothing company advertising their product with clothes with mostly-naked people? THEIR MODELS DON'T WEAR CLOTHES. AND THEY'RE ADVERTISING CLOTHING.
Pointless. Sex.
Sex sex sex.
ALL OVER THE PLACE.

When I say that something, I wanna hold your hand. I wanna hold your haaand, I wanna hold your hand. Oh please say to me, you'll let me be your man. And please say to me, you'll let me hold your hand!
And when I touch you, I feel happy inside. It's a such a feeling that my love...I can't hide, I can't hide, I can't hide. Yeah, you got that something. I think you'll understand sdlknflkwajnfmwe

Not very deep lyrics, but a great, great song. Simple simple simple AMAZING AMAZING.
I WANT TO HOLD SOMEONE'S HAND.
TAYLOR DURHAM, LET'S HOLD HANDS.
Anyone. Let's hold hands.

Going crazy. Whoa whoa whoaaaaa. DOES THAT MAKE ME CRAAAAZZYYYY?
dunandajns something something.
Yesterday, driving home from the mountain, my mother and I came across four guys having a snowball fight across the road. They'd made forts on either side of the road in the snow (there's about three feet there, mind you) and were pelting each other in between cars. It made me so happy. I laughed at them and one of the guys saw me and blew me a kiss. Warmed my heart!

Oh dear God, you're beautiful.
I want to say that. To everyone!! To my mother and to my father and to my best friends and to my close friends and to my friends and to my family and to my passive-aggressive conflictarians and to the man who works at the Greenwater store (with the rainbow flags in his yard and the earring and the shirt that's exulting Bush's last day) and to Matt and to the Qwest guy who I see driving up to the mountain every day due to power outages and to the UPS guy and to the guy who came running up the road with a hatchet when the tree fell in front of our car yesterday and to the girl whose name I don't know who works at Crystal and who always smiles at me and to Alexa ALEXA ALEXA OH DEAR GOD, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL and to Xanda and to Mykaila and to Cooper and to Taylor and to Elly and to Lilly Mudrovich and to Morgan and to Alex Ostrom and to Auri Mathisen and to McKenna fucking McNabb and to Ileana and to Marisol and to Hailey Payne whom I was best friends with during toddler years and to Reland Reland RELAND. And to Ringo fucking Starr and to Rapheal and to Sheila fucking Houlahan and to Maria Mills and to Miles and to Kailyn Savage and to Courtney Beckett even though I've never spoken to you, oh dear God you're beautiful, and to Marissa I-Don't-Know-Your-Last-Name who helped me out of the snow and to the lady who gave me a free lift ticket when I lost my season pass.
OH DEAR GOD, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL.
All of you. Every last one. And more. Everyone. Everyone's so motherfucking beautiful.

Wow. This was originally just supposed to be about my huge crush on Rachel Maddow. Oopsie daisy.
Rachel Maddow's beautiful too.

Okay.
And such as.

cue indiana jones theme

I don't feel like forming full thoughts right now.

  • Crystal Skull, in my opinion, was a horrific movie.
  • Kay and I pierced two more holes in my ears. They hurt.
  • It's been slushing a lot lately.
  • Bristol Palin finally spawned her young, proving any conspiracy theories of a made-up pregnancy false. Here.
  • Marilyn Monroe and I share the same birthday. I knew I'd always felt some sort of kinship with her.
  • The Kooks are a great band.
  • I think one of my toenails might come off. Fuck my ski boots...gnarly.
  • It's taken me all day to finish this Monster. Energy drinks are not my bag, baby. Which is funny because I used to drink like three a week. Blech.
  • Double-you-tee-eff, mayte, monkeys and aliens in Indiana Jones?
  • This pizza is of the wretched frozen variety, but I still kind of love it. Pizza will be the death of me.
  • Shia LaBeouf. I have had a crush on him since ye olde Even Stevens days.
  • Same with Liv Tyler. Armageddon, baby.
  • Reland always told me I looked like Robin Wright Penn (Buttercup) in the Princess Bride. I was very flattered.
  • She also told me when we were in first grade that her teacher's husband was Wesley (Cary Elwes). I was awestruck.
  • Whoa, Reland and I have been friends for 12 years. Whoaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
  • I wish I was a bunny. I would shake my head just so my ears would flop.
  • Sometimes I sit up at night pondering blog ideas.
  • I used to carve my name into window sills because they did it in some book I'd read, so people wouldn't forget them when they moved or left. I actually still do. My name is everywhere.
  • I also drew on the walls, except I wanted to facewall when I did it because in all the stories my parents ever told me, the villains were always graffiti artists.
  • In Rome the trains were covered in all kinds of art. There was a train with a rendition (right word?) of Van Gogh's Room at Arles.
  • I am totally Miguel in El Dorado. I saw it on TV and was like "!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (alexa is tulio)
  • Today I experienced a weird feeling. It happens a lot but I never think about it. There is this girl on my ski team who likes to make a point of being a bit of a beehive, but I smiled at her all big-like and she immediately brightened up. Funny how that works. I love it.
  • Yesterday I was thinking about the differences between some people I've hung out with and the way I was raised. They were more the "guilty until proven innocent" types and I was raised to be more of the "innocent until proven guilty" type. Hm.
  • Tomorrow I want to see people I haven't seen in a long time.
  • This is my great great uncle. I'm so proud.
Okay.
I'm going to snuggle with my mama now.

Love.

Saturday, December 27, 2008

i still haven't finished Inkheart.

My mother, bless her heart, bought me Inkspell and Inkdeath for Christmas.
I think that's what they're called. I'm going to be reading well into the night.
I managed to get sick again on Christmas Eve, but no one believed me because it had been exactly one month since I'd been sick before.

Es all good, though. Today I skied! Of course. I've skied every day but two in the past 8 days.
Stir crazy.
Going to die.

Save me plskthxbai.
I think I'm going to go outside tonight. Somewhere. It's raining.
Not that there's anyone I can see. I miss Cody. I wasn't even that close to him, but he lived a few blocks away. Now he doesn't, as far as I've seen. I don't know. I'm GOING CRAZY HOLAY SHIT.
Okay okay okay okay.
I love hips. I am going to announce how freaking much I love hips. People hate me for it, because I go around like poking them in the sides and they're like EEP NOEZ, but whatever. It's for the greater good.
*for the greater good*
Let's watch Hot Fuzz.
Blech.
"Baby You Amaze Me" by Select Start.

Monday, December 22, 2008

thanks dad

for making me feel worthless.
"you're smarter than this"
"i know you can do better than this"
"this is for your own good"
"how many times do i have to tell you?"
thanks dad.
you'll be in the jacket of our first album. "and thanks dad for inspiring me to be a better person."

also.

thanks boy for making me feel SPECIAL
thanks really i want to let you know how very much that means to me
let's hang out i really like you i like you a lot you're beautiful
when will i learn, really.
"i love the beatles and daft punk too"
"i have a kitten, named the moon goddess!"
"would you ever do that again?" "of course"
"wednesday's my day off, we should hang out"
good to know you don't 'hang out' with anyone alone unless you intend to fuck them
good to know you're fucking my best friend
good to know your cat died
good to fucking know
wow, boy.
juju festival.

Sunday, December 21, 2008

this providence

I've been jumping from the tops of buildings
For the thrill of the fall
Ignoring sound advice
And any thought of consequence
My bones are shattered
My pride is shattered
And in the midst of this self-inflicted pain
I can see my beautiful rescue

I'm falling more in love
With every single word I withhold
I'm falling more in love
With every single word you say
I'm falling head-over-heels for you

I've been dancing on the tops of buildings
At the top of my lungs I'm singing you a song
Don't you leave me alone
My bones were shattered
My pride lays shattered
Well I'll trample my pride and tell the whole world
To dance with me

I'm falling more in love
With every single word I withhold
I'm falling more in love
With every single word you say
I'm falling head-over-heels for you again

I'm crying out
"Wash my hands, these bloody hands Lord. Open my mouth and I'll sing."

I'm falling more in love
With every single word I withhold
I'm falling more in love
With every single word you say
I'm falling head-over-heels for you

I've been dancing on the tops of buildings
With you

Saturday, December 20, 2008

P.S. i keep thinking it's sunday

I admire the people who are in possession of the ability to make my knees weak by simply maintaining eye contact.

moan

Swoon, this is the same old blood rush with a new touch
I am safe, quaint and eloquent
But my bottom lip along with the top one too
Is chapped and it's all thanks to you

We all wet our lips to prepare for the kiss
But it never came
And we all wet our lips to prepare for the kiss
It was but a game

You have a moan all of your own
And I can feel it down to the bone
You have a moan all of your own
And I can feel it down to the bone

You trained these lips when they were champs
And now they're itching for a comeback
So come back
It's a shame that your claim to fame
Hangs on someone else's name
So come back
Such a task and this is such a blast
And such a task
And such a task and this is such a blast
And all that jazz

You have a moan all of your own
And I can feel it down to the bone
You have a moan all of your own
And I can feel it down to the bone

You have a dangerous face and illegal taste
And that strap is fallen on that shoulder blade
Be patient
Behave
You have a dangerous face and illegal taste
And that strap is fallen on that shoulder blade
Be patient
Behave

You have a dangerous face and illegal taste
And that strap is fallen on that shoulder blade
Be patient
Behave

You trained these lips when they were champs
And now they're itching for a comeback

You have a moan all of your own
And I can feel it down to the bone
You have a moan all of your own
And I can feel it down to the bone

Not written by me.
I don't write like that.
HOLY SHIT I WANT TO WATCH MAMA MIA.

Today I skied. It was cold. 6 degrees at the base, -2 or something at the top.
I couldn't feel my toes so I skipped afternoon training to ski with Miles. D'awwwww. I accidentally grabbed his butt :| Yes yes accidentally. He would have fallen on top of me otherwise. No joke. I didn't see Preston. I don't know what I would have done if I had.
Wow.
I did see Matt though. He was supposed to cut his mullet for work, but he's being stupid and hiding it, haha.
McKenna gave me my Christmas present; she'd knitted me a fantastic purple scarf which I will now wear everywhere I go.
Holy cow, it's cold.
I just watched Fred Claus. It was a year, a couple days ago, since we'd seen that for the conge.
I can't concentrate.
It's too cold.
My dog is so cuddly.

Also, let's all organize a weekend or something over break where we sleep over at someone's house and have a snowball fight, k? I volunteer mine, unless anyone else has a pressing desire to host.

Love.

Friday, December 19, 2008

if you read this whole thing, i will give you a bag of starbursts or something

I am content.
There is turmoil boiling (turmoil has to be in the same sentence as boiling, it would be wrong without it). For once, I really don't know what to do about it, nor do I know what to do with myself. A decision was made, but it still feels sort of undecided.
But that doesn't bother me. What bothers me is the pain of everyone else. I am not as emotionally unstable right now as I have been in the past month or so. I'm careful for myself but right now my stability is not what is concerning me. I want everyone to be happy, I want my best friends to stay my best friends, I do not want relationships incinerated because of misunderstandings. Or because of anything else, for that matter.
God, how very cliche of me, but I believe it. All you need is love. Cue "bu-ba-ba-da-da-da".
This morning driving up to the mountain with my father we listened to Rubber Soul, my all-time favorite Beatles album. It was nice. We didn't argue, we didn't sit silently in our mutual pouty pigheadedness. We talked about Ringo Starr and Courtney Andrews and how my father was in a band with his brother and his would-be brother in high school. We sang Michelle together and opened the sun roof and froze our asses off. We got to Crystal and had the normal first-day-up problems with our ski boots and, as per usual, I left him in my dust. (: It's a running joke.
I'm excited for when my brother comes up to ski. He raced as well, so we get to go fast together, stupidly fast, but we're always in control. Trained that way. We get to stop after two runs to get hot chocolate then go out and tumble down powder bowls. I used to be scared of really deep powder; I was afraid I'd get stuck and wouldn't be able to get out. This has happened to me numerous times in my lifetime, but when I was left behind by my little race group in sixth grade I realized I had to suck it up and learn how to ski properly. So I did, and I feel all the much better for it.

Moving on.
Inkheart has always had a very special place in my heart. Inkheart, the book by Cornelia Funke. I read it in 2003 when it came out and have loved it since. It's amazing, I thought, how the characters in the books stay the same age while I grow older and mature. The more I read the book as I get older, the more interesting it gets. I'm able to analyze it better now than when I was nine or so in 2003, but it's still able to make me look at it with the same "child-like wonder" I always did. (Thanks, Ms. Palin.) Also, I thought it would be the coolest thing in the world to be able to read things and make them come to life. I tried. It didn't work. It was fun imagining, though.
There's this quote in it that I like now that I didn't really think about when I was nine.
Some books should be tasted
some devoured,
but only a few
should be chewed and digested thoroughly

I thought that was awesome.
ALSO, I was just watching Kung-Fu Panda and the wise turtle said "Tomorrow is a mystery, yesterday is history, but today is a gift; that's why the call it the present."
AWESOME.

Right now I'm sitting here listening to Dean Martin and talking to Colleen and Miles. Well, texting them. Colleen is watching Mama Mia, which we plan to watch/sing together when either of us visits the other next. Wow...it's been almost seven full months since I visited her in Illinois. Holy crap. Best four-day weekend of my life. We watched Rocky Horror at midnight in the hotel hallway; a fancypants lady tripped over the portable DVD player cord and two adorable gay guys were raucousing around in their room. "I'LL BE LIKE...A HIPPIE, AND PEE IN A BUCKET."
Miles has a yellow VW van. He carted me around in it once on Halloween. I don't remember that very well. I do remember that he was like...a jester, and had a strategically placed bauble on his front. I wanted to touch the bauble because it was rainbow, but Preston hit my hand and told me that I would be molesting Miles if I did so. But Miles let me and it made my life. I didn't touch anything. There was no public indecency involved. Har.
Anyway.

You're nobody till somebody loves you So find yourself somebody to love

That's horrible! Way to make people feel bad about themselves, Dean Martin.

como e bella ce la luna brille e strette strette como e tutta bella a passeggiare sotto il cielo di roma

Can I just say how much I miss Rome. My dad and I were also talking about this in the car this morning. Rome was my favorite place because we lived there the longest. A year and a half, man. I made friends, connections, memories, that I will never forget. I mean, little things, too. Like...there was a cat sanctuary where my friend Belle and I went one afternoon because it was rainy and we couldn't concentrate on homework. My parents had bought a cheap Subaru and had it shipped to England, where we drove it back to Rome. It's still there, in the Valentini family's garage. My mom drove me to the marina Belle's boat, Aventura, was docked, we had a delicious snack of crackers, and we drove to the center of Rome, where the sanctuary was. It was actually in the Forum, where Caesar was killed...a bunch of 2000 year old columns and walls converted into a cat pound. Belle and I cleaned the kitties and fed them and snuggled with them. It was amazing. I'd forgotten about that until just now.
There was a restaurant in the boat yard where we kept the boat when my father had to go back to the States. It had the best "ice cream of the day"...except they didn't change it every day. I think they just wanted to say something in English. It was a scoop of vanilla ice cream in half a canteloupe and smothered in honeydew melon. Weirdest ever, but delicious, especially on those days were it was rainy but like 100 degrees.
Okay, no more stories.
Except, stories are really the only things I have to offer.

I smell like cigarettes but I haven't been smoking.
I just showered.
Actually. I smell like Preston's car. A mixture of cigarettes, pot, and sometimes honeydew-lime lotion. Weird.

I've been thinking about all of this stuff, it's been accumulating in my mind so I can blast it out in a blog post. I'm glad I remembered it all! (:
I have to get to sleep. I'm training tomorrow, and now that I'm in the senior year of ski racing, I have to get there earlier and set up courses earlier and work harder and put up with people I can't stand way earlier in the morning.
It's alright though, it's worth it. This will be my last year of ski racing because it's so goddamn expensive, and I'm ready to open up the weekends in my life. I'm ready to stop competing. This will be a good last year.
Poor McKenna though. There are not many of her ski friends left on the team. She is the most dedicated, hard-working, positive, upbeat person I have met in my life...skiing is her passion and by God she will get to the junior olympics if it costs her her grades.
Except not. She still manages to get straight-A's while being in FIS world cup racing. That means that she's getting points for professional racing, already.
Holy crap, she's Superwoman.
I love that girl.

I love everyone. I love my mom and I love Alexa and I love Mykaila and I love Elly and I love Xanda and I love Taylor Du and I love Taylor De and I love Shanti Williams and I love Grace Lacy-Hansell and I love Kay Savage and I love Judi and I love Rapheal and I love Pilar and I love Chanin and I love Jude and I love Jordan Savage and I love Zach Warrender and I love Miles Taylor and I love Colleen Bailey and I love Reland Tuomi and I love Bridget Rafferty and I love Ann Gilbert and I love the bucket guy on 4th and Pike? And I love my grandparents and I love Landon Price and I love Ryan Burnham and I love Tyler Davis and I love Mark McDonough and I love Teddy Pickard and I love Joey Stead and I love Janelle Neil and I love Heather Mirczak and I love Billie Joe Armstrong and I love Gerard Way and I love Bonnie Raitt and I love Pinky and I love Peewee and I love Donnie and I love Darren and I love Shannon and I love BoyShannon and I love Sarah and I love Amy and I love Sissy and I love Maggi and I love Mark and I love Jesse and I love Ceci and I love Virginia and I love Jeff and I love McKenna and I love Camila and I love Morgan and I love Nikita and I love Allison and I love Abby and I love Lou! and I love you, Jose, even though I said I hate you I don't, I really don't, I love the grandfather I never met and I love Mountain Chief for giving me my heritage and I love Marisol and I love Ileana and I love Eileen and I love Maureen and I love the FR class of 2011 and 2010 and 2012 and 2009 and I love Lilly Mudrovich and I love Sarah Grove and I love Preston and I love Britt Cook and I love Haley Meier and I love Maggie Lehr and I love Cynthia for everything she ever did for me, for making me stronger, for telling me I had tapeworms. I love Jessi Mathisen and I love Hannah Brown and I love Amanda Steinvall and I love Kat Burgess and I love Kirsten Lacist and I love Auri Mathisen and I love Jomeka and I love Vic Zinsley and I love Walt and I love Deva and I love Alan and I love Gretchen Price, you are a goddess, I admire your strength. And I love Gretchen Tuomi thank you for being my second mother. I love Linda I love Tom and I love John I don't remember your last name but I loved you, I love Juan Barco and I love Danielle Bader and I love Sylvia Salveson and I love the guy who did Reland and my caricature in Disneyland in 6th grade. I love Sandra Valentini and I love Renato and I love Belle and I love Bill and Shirley and I love Christopher, my first boyfriend from Kent, England and I love Ochanya I miss you and I love Orlando Bloom and I love Jefferey Price rest in peace and I love Shireen and I love Sean Anderson and I love Laura Grace Beckerman and I love Kelsey Monson and I love Shelby Anderson and I love Segall and I love Bekka Cohn and I love Amanda Klug and I love Katherine Fransisco and I love Brian do you still talk to aliens? I love Rick the peanut guy and Jay Buener thank you for being concerned of my head when I was a baby and I love and I love and I love and I love you everyone who has helped me in my life and I love everyone who has made my life a living hell thank you thank you thank you everyone for loving me for hating me for haunting me for getting to know me for not knowing me at all for judging me for listening to me for kissing me for hugging me for not judging me for cussing me out for letting me cuss you out for giving your all to me for breaking my heart for making my life brighter every single time I see you, you have all made me a better person thank you thank you THANK YOU.
If I forgot you, I sure as hell didn't mean to. I love you. :)

I figured out why I smell like Preston's car. I haven't worn the hoodie I'm wearing now since I drove his car. That was about, if not more than, a month ago. I should wash this.

Goodnight.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

P.S. my future

I'm going to be the gay man grandmother ("FABULOUS") that accidentally feeds her grandchildren "special" brownies. And corrupts young children with that's what she said.

Tonight at 11:11 we made the same wish.
I love you, my dear.

no, really

She's the smoke
She's dancin' fancy pirouettes
Swan diving off of the deep end
Of my tragic cigarette
She's steam
Laughing on the windowpanes
The never-ending swaying haze
Oh, that ever smiling maze
Oh, that ever smiling maze
A ballet

My song of the day: "Thank You" by Courtney Marie Andrews, of course.

Yeah. Who? Who what? Who is you.
You know. You will for sure.

Smile for a while.
Don't worry.
I'm glad I've been given your comforting.

I lost the back to my right earring.
My diamond one. Fake diamond, but nice to fill the space. I didn't want to keep the safety pin.
My left one is a pearl. A fake pearl. But, like the diamond, nice.
I made some lovely sugar cookies tonight. I plan on distributing them.
Hopefully I can repeat the process tomorrow in Spanish.
I have to go translate that recipe.
I'm exhausted.

Goodnight.
I love you, Felix. Don't let yourself forget it.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Oh, dear god, you're beautiful.

I'm either laughing or crying;
I can never make up my mind
I'm glad I've been given your comforting
And smile for a while

I'm really confused. What the hell is going on here.
Except.
I just got the strongest wave of calm.
Things will be alright.
Tomorrow I need a nice long talk. In person.
Mykaila, please.
Alexa, please.
Elly, please.
Three people that mean so, so much to me.
Just to be able to rant and rave and pace and hug and smile and hold hands and not worry about giving the wrong idea and everything.
EVERYTHING.
Can you do that for me?

until the days turn into weeks



It's already Christmastime. How time flies.
Warped Tour, in August, seems like a decade ago. Took a lot of great photos then...I remember coming home and having been so horribly un-sunburned but browner than an old banana. The photo on the right is from Warped.
The photo on the left is from August 2nd I believe. I remember coming home from seeing The Hush Sound, The Cab, Feverclub, etc at El Corazon , being sweaty and gross but so so so so happy. I want to go to more shows again. The last I went to was with Alexa; Moneta, Shyforshy, New Heights, Landyn, and a couple others. That was in September, but it feels like years ago. In this photo you can see Alexa's hand on his ass back there, on the guy in the red pants.
That was whatsisface from Landyn...he was unbearably attractive, mostly because of the cowboy boots and disheveled hair.




Whoa. Time is going so fast because I'm having the time of my life. Awesome.

Today I wrote a long rambling message to Elly and now I feel like a little bit of a dingus. Sorry, Elly. I would like to go and bury myself in Mykaila's bed because it looks so lovely. I mean...I really really really really want to go to her house and listen to Courtney Andrews and have a fort under her blankets.
Also, I recommend Alexa's bed. I haven't been in it recently, I haven't been in her new house yet, but if she still has the same bed, it's heavenly.
Today I fell asleep on my mom's bed watching Zaboomafoo. It was a wonderful feeling. Except I woke up to Dr. Phil talking about a reporter who had been brutally bludgeoned. That was bad...I was actually scared.
I was going to tell a story about how my parents left me in the car and I wasn't as "aware", as this is a public place, as I should have been...aftermath from the night before. And I didn't know where they went. It was terrifying.
Okay, I'm done with that.

Today I bought the most delicious Cuties in the world.
They are my dinner.

Blanket fort + Courtney Marie Andrews + cuddling + Cuties = ♥
Oh, + Bob Dylan.

Ciao ciao for now.

a wise friend once told me.

i feel like a third wheel

like i'm not deep or intelligent enough for this little group

i'm just a puppy tagging along


you are fine!

you are fine!

you are wonderful!

you are irreplaceable



i

don't

feel

like

it

i feel so fucking generic

with every awkward silence comes more "i could be talking to someone way more interesting right now"

I AM NOT INTERESTING. i have nothing to talk about

ever!

besides myself

end of story.

end of story.

FUCK YOU OLIVIA GAITAN. THAT IS ALL I HAVE TO SAY. FUCK YOU.



I AM MOTHERFUCKING IMPLODING RIGHT NOW



I would be kind and sweet and gentle but right now I just have to open the fucking can of fucking whupass.



THAT IS JUST WHAT I FUCKING NEED

unleash



Snap the fuck out of it, immediately.

I don't want to hear any of this "I am not worthy" bullshit.

Ever.

So you need to snap the fuck out of it, and realize that we love you and would never ever want to replace you or get rid of you. We'd be up the fucking river without a paddle if not for you.

We'd be in bed fucking Brad Pitt without a condom if not for you.

WE FUCKING NEED YOU.

We love you.


Thank you for telling me when to stop.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

caught red-handed at the door.

Yes, Identity
Give me a chance please thank you
Yes, Self-Reliance

"You're smarter than this"
Give me a chance please thank you
Thanks Dad thanks a lot

To love to want, need
Give me a chance please thank you
Please tell me the truth

I get my hopes up
Give me a chance please thank you
For nothing at all?

You steal and pillage
Give me a chance please thank you
But need affection

I need affection
Give me a chance please thank you
I guess you don't know

You're my tornado
Give me a chance please thank you
Motherfucking storm

How angry I get
Give me a chance please thank you
But not really; no.

Just alone I guess.
Give me a chance please thank you
You don't even know

How very high school
Give me a chance please thank you
Me, puppy, third wheel

I'll let you go now
Go ahead hugs and kisses
To you always, love

I'm here for a chance
If you should ever need me
I'm here, should you love.

jaguar love




my favorite picture of myself. I don't know why.
August 2008. I'd gotten two hours of sleep in three days...it was about 2 in the afternoon when my mother came in laughing at me and took a photo documenting my "finally being a teenager." I suppose because teenagers all sleep in until 2 pm?
My room looks so different now. I'm doing my little mural in the space next to my window.
I remember I moved my bed because I needed change. Before that, it was parallel to the wall on the left. But I'd gotten out of a nasty relationship and I decided it was time to rip everything down, move everything around. I got an ugly, unbelievably comfortable chair at Goodwill and that's what my mother was sitting in when she took the photo. I woke up at the flash. Before my aunt died. After Warped Tour; the stamps from that band Sunstreak (the stamps said "STREAKER") were on my arms. Marisol and I were covered in them.
Hmmm.
HM HM HM.
is all I have to say. Other than:
"STD payphone hanging off my face. The roomie's got me on hold and damn, why am I such a disgrace?"
Mykaila and I were earlier discussing how we would look back on these times and the word to describe them would be "hilarious". I said clusterfuck, but I think hilarious works better.
A.D.D.-riddled blog posts today.
I think if I typed how I thought, without punctuation or real words or anything, I would be absolutely incomprehensible. It is actually physically impossible for me to type how I think...I think in images, not words. Image example: if someone mentions Elly, I think of her face spreading into a smile, but not specific personality traits?...I don't know. Not anything else. If someone mentions Mykaila, I think of her smiling as well, oddly enough, but coupled with her laugh. Of my mother, I see the right side of her face as she's driving. Semi-photographic memory at its best, I guess. So I think in images, unless what I'm thinking is an "idea", which is what I call advice or consolation or reasoning. In my mind an idea is...not in words, but it would be an all around concept. Also, my thoughts flash by too fast for me to write them all down in time to catch the next one. That's why I forget everything so quickly, short-term, at least. I almost always remember later. OH, PERFECT EXAMPLE. I remember now running up to Elly in the upper 800 printer alcove during Geometry and having to ask her about Laura, but as soon as I saw her I forgot because when I saw her I thought of my MIND image of her, the smiling thing. Then I had to reign my mind back to where it was supposed to be, like the WOW I SMELL BURNING PLAYDOUGH. Okay, so it's kind of like meditation. Letting your mind wander, and then always bringing it back.
Okay, so. My mind is officially pretzeled. I don't think I've ever that thought process into words before.


WHOA SHIT. I have lots of homework. I'm going to do that.
Okay okay okay. Hasta luego.

tie-dye or tye-dye?

People think they're clever when they're really just tipping my spelling knowledge upside down.

I have a secret confession. I really really really do not like the right side of text boxes. It's satisfying when I'm writing a big long rant or letter or something to know that I'm filling up space, but unless I absolutely have to go all the way to the right, I hit enter like twelve times.

Yesterday was the 4 year anniversary? of my grandmother's death. I forgot about it until we were listening to Christmas songs and my mother started crying.
On a happier note, I went sledding with my ten-year-old neighbor. There's about 2 feet of snow up here. I actually should be skiing right now. But I have no gear...was all stolen last year.
I don't know what I'm feeling or what I want to do right now.
I know I should be doing my homework, and showering, so I can call Mykaila back.
I...wow.

I've been breaking out quite a bit lately. I think I'm stressed.

Friday, December 12, 2008

a walk through hell

And if I was brave, I'd climb up to you on the mountain,
They led you to drink from their fountain spouting lies.
And I'd slay the horrible beast they commissioned
To steer me away from my mission to your eyes.
And I'd stand there, like a soldier, with my foot upon his chest,
With my grin spread, and my arms out, in my bloodstained Sunday's best,
And you'd hold me; I'd remind you who you are under their shell.

- "A Walk Through Hell" by Say Anything

I wish I could be more lyrical as of late.
I don't even really care if that's proper grammar. I wish I could be inspired enough to write songs. The only songs I'd written were in anger and although they felt really good and turned out well, I don't want to write music to them.
I don't feel very deep, either.
I mean...I am not shallow.
I'm more like the 5 foot depth in the middle of a pool. Not the deep end, but not ridiculously shallow.
I haven't been able to put my feelings into music lately. It's going into drawing and stuff...
Ms. Edwards asked me to draw the dance program thingy. I'm not entirely sure what it's for, I wasn't the most aware when she asked me, but I'm drawing it and what I'm drawing she says she likes. We'll see.
I wish I could speak French, or at least understand a teensy bit more. I mean, I understand alright to begin with, and it helps that I'm getting much better at Spanish (ROMANCE LANGUAGES!), but it never hurts.
I feel kind of foolish and giddy lately. I'm excited for something to change, for everything. I mentioned this earlier today. At the same time, I want everyone to be happy, right here and now. The juju spiderweb has been up and down lately, people have been having the times of their lives while also managing to juggle other problems including internal ones and those of other people.
I want to do everything in my power to help them, while also living my own life and doing what I want to. Within reason, of course.

I don't know what I'm trying to say.

Today was great. Mykaila, Taylor Du, and I were joined by Elly and Elly's lovely friend whose name escapes me in Mirczak's office. We talked about uteri and vaginae, and did a uterus dance. Talked about suicide, ghosts, lactose intolerance, juggling, dreadlocks, quesadillas, Eastside Catholic, Winterball, dimes...Elly and Lovely Friend left a tad early. (Kate? Marie?)
It took two whole hours to get to Mykaila's house from school. TWO HOURS. On a normal day, it would be a half-hour journey. Nonsense. I guess people don't know how to drive in the rain?
Mykaila and I came up with something for kidnapping.
We watch Aristocats! We've already matched the characters to the people. Alexa is O'Malley, of course. Sheila is Uncle Waldo, in the most loving way possible. Elly is Dutchess. Xanda is Scat Cat. Maria's the mouse...Roquefort, I think his name is? Morgan is one of the boy kittens, the one that goes FTFTFTFT! and hisses and spits. :D
Alright, enough. It's going to be awesome.

Ho crap. It's bedtime!


Love.
I wish my name was Skylar. I went to montessori school with a kid named Skylar and he was the cutest thing you would ever see, except for perhaps a certain couple that I am not going to mention here for their dignity's sake.
He and one of my best friends were "boyfriend and girlfriend." It was the sweetest thing I'd ever seen, except for the fact that I was green with envy and I wanted to be BoyfriendAndGirlfriend with someone too.
It's the same sort of thing right now. I'm completely susceptible to any sort of wooing or adorableness. I die. I think I'm going to steal the Dashboard Confessional lyric again.
My hopes are so high,
that your kiss might kill me.
So won't you kill me,
so I die happy.
My heart is yours to fill or burst,
to break or bury,
or wear as jewelery,
which ever you prefer
Go ahead.

I'm really full of excitement. For what's going on right now, for what's going to happen in the future. I don't know what's going to happen, but I'm excited for it to come. Today has been a good day, not in any particular way, but definitely alright. And then, it's not so much. It's kind of bipolar. Bad things, fabulous things.
It's just...fantastic. To have a niche. Third year I've been at this school and I'm finally truly happy with where I am. Happier than I could ever imagine. Everyone's beautiful and honestly it's an honor to be friends with such good people. Good. Not fake. Not temporary. I can feel that these ties are going to last. I was going to say that the people I'm with now aren't unhappy with themselves or unhappy in general, but I don't know that. I don't know what's going on inside some people. Not really. I can sympathize, empathize, offer a golden toilet of advice. But whether my friends are unhappy does not affect their capacities to be good people or good friends. It's how they exhibit their ability to love and to push their way through whatever turmoil is raging around them or inside them.
Good people.
Two messages for two different people:
I worry about you, but I know you'll be okay. You're stronger than what's trying to beat you now. You're wise and you have a strong sense of self. You know yourself and you know what you can do.
And you. I've told you this before. You are beautiful, you underestimate yourself. You are a strong, intelligent young sir...so hard on yourself. Give yourself credit for being amazing every once in a while, listen to us. It does wonders to one's confidence.

I love you. Everyone.

epic.

mykaila:I AM GOING TO FUCKING MARRY HIM. TOMORROW NIGHT
olivia: NIAGARA FALLS.
mykaila: WE WILL GO TO A MOTEL 6 FOR OUR HONEYMOON.
olivia: OKAY! I WILL SEND A BOUQUET WITH YOU. TO MAKE IT LOOK NICE!
mykaila: AND WE WILL EAT CHEETOS
olivia:VENDING MACHINES!
mykaila: EXACTLY. AND WE WILL SMELL NICE. AND WEAR SWEATERS. AND VANS. AND DRINK TEA AND WRITE LYRICS AND PLAY PARCHEESI. AND DRIVE AROUND IN A GOLF CART!
olivia: lmao in this one book parcheesi was codeword for sex. AND YOU WILL TAME WILD BENGAL KITTENS
mykaila: we'll do that. (sex).
olivia: yes. and raise okapis in vermont.
mykaila: OKAPIIIIIIIIS
olivia: YAAAAAAAAAAY

Thursday, December 11, 2008

all we need is a little bit of momentum

So I was going through all of my old stuff a little bit ago. "Old" being Julyish. I found something that doesn't sound anything like me now, but expressed me so, so well then. Do you ever have that happen to you?

"You are a slow drifting petal
I am a crisp winter morning
You are the rootless orange of autumn
I’m the bare trees whom you sucked dry
You haunt my very existence
I feed off of your aesthetic"


It was part of a song that I never finished.
Funny. Eight syllables in each line, I just realized. I probably did then as well. Eh.

I'm glad that I am who I am.
I'm glad that I'm my mother's daughter. I am my father's daughter as well, obviously, but he and I think so differently that it's hard to imagine we are related. My mother and I, on the other hand, are alike in almost every way. The ways in which we are not, I've learned from her to improve myself.
I came out to her the other day, actually. I think she already knew, to be honest. We were talking about what my dad would think if I was gay, and she straight-out went "Do you think you are?" and I went "Yep." and she went, "Alright, well. Do what's best for you."
I love her.

Hmmm, wow.
I'm kind of confused. I don't know how to express myself.
MURAL! I haven't been taking many photos lately. I think starting the juju project again would be amazing.
Whatevs.
Excited to go to school tomorrow.
I don't know why.

Wednesday, December 10, 2008

icky

thump.



Exorcism went well.
We can't wash the paint out.

Monday, December 8, 2008

like a complete work of art

I'm being exorcised tomorrow.
It's going to be great. Out with the bad, in with the good.

I apologize to anyone for any offensive material.
I'm sorry this is happening, but I guess it's for the better, if it's not going to be improved.
Both angry for our own justified reasons; there are always two sides in an argument.
I'm not angry right this second, just exasperated, exhausted. Wishing for this to be over.
Yes, you're right. The internet's not a private place. Let's not go through the rest of our high school careers like this. If things are going to happen, let them be between us; I don't spread it to people. I tell my best friends, you tell yours. You and I both should both be above this, we've helped each other through shit like this before. Let's not exploit each other.

Sunday, December 7, 2008

slow motion, see me let go.

ADMIT IT! Despite your pseudo-bohemian appearance and vaguely leftist doctrine of beliefs, you know nothing ABOUT art or sex that you couldn't read in any trendy new york underground fashion magazine...Proto-typical non-conformist. You are a vacuous soldier of the thrift store gestapo. You adhere to a set of standards and tastes that appear to be determined by an unseen panel of hipster judges-BULLSHIT-giving your thumbs up and thumbs down to incoming and outgoing trends and styles of music and art. Go analog baby, you're so post-modern. You're diving face forward into an antiquated past, it's disgusting! It's offensive! Don't stick your nose up at me!
You spend your time sitting in circles with your friends, pontificating to each other, forever competing for that one moment of self aggrandizing glory in which you hog the intellectual spotlight, holding dominion over the entire SHALLOW....POINTLESS...conversation. Oh we're not worthy.
When you walk by a group of quote-unquote normal people you chuckle to yourself, patting yourself on the back as you scoff. It's the same superority complex shared by the high school jocks who made your life a living hell, makes you a slave to the competitive capitalist dogma you spend every moment of your waking life BITCHING about!
Cause I'm proud of my life and the things that I have done, proud of myself and the loner I've become. You're free to whine. It will not get you far. I do just fine, my car and my guitar, proud of my life and the things that I have done, proud of myself and the loner I've become. You're free to whine. It will not get you far. I do just fine, my car and my guitar.
Well let me tell you this, I am shamelessly self-involved. I spend hours in front of the mirror making my hair elegantly disheveled. I worry about how this album will sell because I believe it will determine the amount of SEX I will have in the future. I self-medicate with drugs and alcohol to help treat my extreme social anxiety problem. You are a FAKER! ADMIT IT!You are a FRAUD! ADMIT IT! You're living a LIE! your life is living a lie! You don't impress me! ADMIT IT! You don't intimidate me! ADMIT IT! Why don't you bow down, get on the ground, walk this fucking plank!




Spiteful.

Friday, December 5, 2008

he hasn't even hallucinated once, or had that dream about the squirrel who tells him to burn things.

I love:
  • Peace, peaceful interactions, whether between people, nations, animals, whatever.
  • Ranting, listening to people rant
  • Intelligence
  • Good lyrics; none of this "she licked me like a lollipop" nonsense. More like:
  • "My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me.
    So won't you kill me, so I die happy.
    My heart is yours to fill or burst,
    to break or bury, or wear as jewelry,
    which ever you prefer." - Hands Down by DashCon
  • How the world looks through the lens of a camera
  • Contemplating
  • Reminiscing
  • Finding out that there are other ways to do things
  • The beautiful people whom I call my friends, to put it simply
  • You kissed me like you meant it. And I know that you meant it, that you meant it.
  • Honey. In general. The food, calling people "honey", being called honey.
  • Autosave
  • Dreaming up seemingly impossible things and knowing that I can and will achieve them if I want to
  • Making you smile. Yes, you.
  • Free bins at record stores
  • How I'm constantly learning new things about my heritage, Blackfeet, Salvadoran, or otherwise
  • How I'm constantly learning new things about people, whether my friends or complete strangers
  • Having not one but several circles of friends I can travel through
  • Being able to live comfortably and having the ability to help the people who aren't as snug as I am on nights like this
  • How no one is perfect...
I had a revelation a second ago about how no one is perfect. I try my hardest to be the best person I can be, most of the time. But when I'm not, whether it is pointed out to me or if I realize it myself, there is a certain falling feeling in my gut, knowing that yeah, I could do better than that. I could actually refrain from making that snarky comment; no matter how bad her juju is and how much she bugs me, it is bad juju in itself to consider being superior to her or unsympathetic. I could not give my father a hard time when I know he loves me and is simply trying to help. Mykaila, you've taught me so much in the past couple months that it would take years for most adults to learn. You're wise beyond your years; thank you for helping me become a better person.
This in itself is enough to make me more motivated to become a better person.

I keep getting flashes in my head of places. It's happened for a couple years now, but I never talked about it. I would sound crazy, no? Always places I've been, and I just realized always places I love. In the past fifteen minutes or so, it's been the top of the chair Rex at Crystal Mountain. Hosting most of the black diamond runs, it is always foggy and riddled with moguls. I used to be terrified of it. Not so much anymore. Every Monday during my math tutoring period (3:30-4:30) I get flashes of Rome, of Fiumicino. Top two favorite places during all my travels, where I lived the longest (a year and a half).

Fiumicino ^^

This summer I'm going to South Africa. It's going to be fantastic.


Love.

Thursday, December 4, 2008

weathervanes, my one and lonely.

I feel a good amount less intelligent this week. I think I know why.
Doesn't have anything to do with hanging out with unintelligent people, just killing lots of brain cells. Why would someone do that?
I guess there are lots of reasons for death sticks and inhaling pounds of:
  • tar, used in roads and for countless other construction purposes
  • arsenic, a poison
  • formaldehyde, which is used to prevent fires in buildings and to preserve corpses
  • nickel - a metal that increases lung infection
  • fungicides and pesticides - used to kill fungi and insects
  • ammonia, a household cleaner
  • butane, used in lighter fluid
  • lead, used to be used in pencils, for Christ's sake
  • carbon monoxide, a poisonous gas
  • cyanide, a poison
  • cadmium, which is used in batteries
  • polonium, which is radioactive
and more into your lungs. It's disgusting.
Why would you ever do that, Olivia?
Give me an answer. Stress? To look "cool"? To fulfill a teenage stereotype? To occupy time?
Whatever.
I already have enough health problems. Weight gain and lung cancer would only make it worse. Asthma is bad enough as it is.

On another note.
I realized I'm terrified. Don't get me wrong, I'm still happy, I'm still confident, I'm still trying to be a good person. On the other hand, I'm terrified of things happening again. Last night I had another one of my chasing dreams. I had them during last year's school year and through the summer. In my dreams, I'm running from something, every single time. Last night's was bad. Mykaila and I were driving in what was until recently going to be my first car, a beat up old '97 Ford Taurus that my parents bought when we lived in California. Mykaila was driving, we were driving aimlessly around the Ranch, my old neighborhood. It never occurred to me during my dream that this was exactly what Kay and Preston and I had done only a few weekends before, in Preston's car, which is the same model.
We were driving and driving and driving, never stopping, always laughing. We went up a gravel road, climbing a steep hill until we hit a trail into a thicker forest. The trail wasn't wide enough for the car so we got out and walked down it until we found an open area to sit. There were patches of snow and piles of rocks surrounding us, but we didn't mind. We sat and talked, as we always do.
Sometime between when we sat down and it getting darker, I realized we were being followed. I didn't know by who or what, I just knew as one does in dreams; a dream doesn't need a reason or any specifics. We ran to the car. Hearts speeding, tripping over our feet, stumbling in the dark, falling. Leaping back up.
Mykaila made it to the car before the sun went down. I didn't. I had to crawl on my hands and knees, knowing that this being following me was getting ever closer.
Mykaila was screaming, yelling at me to get in, but I couldn't draw myself to do it. It couldn't get her.
I felt the being, still invisible to my eyes, get closer until I was staring it, or staring at the feeling of its closeness. My heart pounding out of my chest. My body sweating, but freezing. And then I woke up.

I don't know what I'm running from.
I know that I am terrified of people whom I love dying. It has happened too frequently in the past four years; eight people now. The first of this sequence was when I was eleven; I was a little young. The most recent was a near-grandfather last week...one of my closest friend's father the week before.
I know I'm afraid I'm not giving Judi the respect she needed. She would want me to be happy, and I am. But you never realize how much you have until it's gone.
I know that I feel the need to help M. She means so much to me and it hurts to see her like this. She says she'll get better, and I know she will. I worry, as a friend should, but I have faith in her. If I cannot do anything, she has the strength the pull herself out of it.
I know that no matter how bad my most recent relationship was or how badly it ended, I still miss him. I know it's not a good thing; he was not a healthy person. He tried, though. He really did, although cheating twice was enough to make me break it off. I miss the long giggle-filled conversations late into the night where I talked and he listened, mostly because he had nothing to say and claimed to love soaking up my joy. Occasionally there were those where he had things to say, where he would say them and we would discuss them. Books, his father, his mother, Miles, drugs, alcohol, sex, his past, his future, his present. I only wish I could redo it and be his friend instead.
There are several things I wish I could say on here that I would rather send to Postsecret. Or keep to myself.

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

the law of the case is up to the judge

Oppo is poop inside out.

That is all I have to say, as of right now.

Saturday, November 29, 2008

waiting to take you away

Picture yourself in a boat on a river,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes.

Cellophane flowers of yellow and green,
Towering over your head.
Look for the girl with the sun in her eyes,
And she's gone.



I AM VERY ANGRY AND I DON'T KNOW WHY.
Why won't my font get any bigger?
This needs to be HUGE, GARGANTUAN.
THIS IS A MOMENTOUS OCCASION.
I AM REALLY MOTHERFUCKING ANGRY.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008

wake the, wake the, wake the sun

Wake the Sun by The Matches = ♥

Estoy enferma. Fui a un funeral hoy. Fue mejor que esperado.
A mis amigos de mi escuelita primaria les extrano mucho. Quiero verlos otra vez, y pronto.

Okay. I took Nyquil not too long ago and I'm going to fall asleep on this itty bitty keyboard now. Let's not.





Bob Dylan = ♥



Love.

Monday, November 24, 2008

always keeping secrets that we'll never tell

STD payphone hanging off my face
your roomie's got me on hold,
damn, why am I such a disgrace?
with a fist full of change and absolutely no sense
what little I've learned about love is at my pride's expense

She told me about how he was high the night before, and angry at both Kay and I because he was treating her like crap and I was reprimanding him for it. He started texting a girl he'd met at the homecoming football game a while back, which morphed into, and I quote, "dirty texting". So they talked and he asked her out. Then he came down from his high and felt bad, I guess, so he told Kay. Of course, she told me.
It's over, I guess.

I'm in the mood for some spectacular juju and definitely a new love interest.



Love.

Sunday, November 23, 2008

everyone gets in the way of everything

Do you belong to a song?
Does it drag you along by the tongue at the top of your lungs?
Are you drunk?
Have you been drinking?
Do you below the overpass go with a fifth in your fist
reminiscing the kiss of a love that just didn't love as much as you did?

Please don't give up, dear walls
don't let the ceiling fall
when you belong to a song, salty eyes,
You belong.

Shrill notes begin, the grim violin
then from the silence a violence of sirens orchestrate the score
to which one more corpse is left quiet
How we become the hollows of drums
the rests between notes, the hollers that never reach throats
"friends" in quotes, they're not calling

Please don't give up, dear you
I'm but the sliver moon sliding through
when you belong to a song, salty eyes,
You belong.

Do please believe, however naive
let it drag you along by the tongue at the top of your lungs
and belong, salty eyes

When you belong to a song, salty eyes,
You belong.


Olivia's official song recommendation of the day:

"Salty Eyes" - The Matches


I broke up with my boyfriend, my friend's father died, and I would like to crawl into a hole and die.

Thursday, November 20, 2008

all was golden when the day met the night

I had a dream this summer on the boat.
In reality. we were going from somewhere to somewhere, point A to point B...I think somewhere in Holland to somewhere in the southeastern-coast area of England. We switched watches every two hours on long passages like this, so our eyes wouldn't be fried out of our skulls from looking for nonexistent tankers or the occasional cluster of kelp. Kelp is bad. It can get stuck in a boat's propeller, and in the middle of the English channel with a sketchy radio, that would be extraordinarily bad. My father and Kay were on watch while I pretended to sleep; I was really just singing along to myself, singing to Panic at the Disco's newest album, Pretty. Odd. It was oddly soothing, with the boat only sort of rocking and my father dancing his little jig to music he obviously was trying very hard to like. The song "She Had The World" came on. My favorite stanza in the entire song is this:
I don’t love you I'm just passing the time
You could love me if I knew how to lie
But who could love me?
I am out of my mind
Throwing a line out to sea
To see if I can catch a dream
I fell asleep singing that.
I had a dream that seemed very real, except that it wasn't just my father and Kay and I on the boat now. There was Ryan Ross, the guitarist for Panic, flitting around in a Madi Peters-esque fashion (meant endearingly - of course I didn't know Madi Peters then but now it is only suitable) up on the bow. (We keep all of our spare lines and ropes on these metal horse-like things to the port and starboard sides of the mast whose names escape me at the moment. They had pegs and I'd always sit on top of them as a homeschooled 4th grader, thinking I was a cowboy. I was the shit.) Ryan Ross appeared to be grabbing all of our spare lines and flinging them off the side of the boat.
My dad freaked out, to put it simply. He was all, "What the hell are you doing?!
Ryan went, all frantically, "I'm throwing a line out to sea! I NEED TO CATCH A DREAM. YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME."
And then he jumped overboard and rode a dolphin into the sunset.

I've been thinking a lot about that dream.
I wonder if it means something.


Love.

Wednesday, November 19, 2008

my organ sounds like...


My day (and evening) in a photo.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

cleared of all charges

What a deliciously overcast day.
Did you know that there is such a thing lactose-free milk? It's amazing for people like me, who explode at the mere sight of lactose. And I did take advantage of said lactose-free milk today on my finish-every-scrap-of-homework/sick day. Kix (kid-tested, mother-approved) for breakfast, lunch, and probably dinner.
Also, today I officially started An Abundance of Katherines by John Green. What a great book, I'm on page 53 or something and I'm already in love.
Preston confided in me his pressing need to get a job. Yesterday he didn't have money for gas to drive to school and back, so he didn't go. ):

Really, I don't have much to talk about today.

Now. Hopefully today will go well. I'm sure it will.
Mykaila's got a magnetic personality, I don't understand how anyone could resist.

I think I'm going to take her example and write down my playlist for today.

Dickhead - Kate Nash
My Crooked Little Friend - Me And My Ship
Fly My Pretties - Fly My Pretties
Disco King - Aural Vampire (mostly because of the name of both band and song)
Oxford Comma - Vampire Weekend
I Want To Hold Your Hand - The Beatles
Talkin' About A Revolution - Tracy Chapman
Another Way To Die - Jack White & Alicia Keys (because who can resist a song by two such musicial geniuses? on the Quantum of Solace soundtrack, no less)
Jimmy The Exploder - The White Stripes
The Ballad of Ira Hayes - Johnny Cash
G0-Getter Greg - Ludo
Emenius Sleepus - Green Day
Tonight - FM Static

Happy, so-so, discontent. Something like my mood today.

Love.