A Russian Waltz

The piano speaks to me. First we are quiet and only familiar tunes play themselves out...that all comes from the brain. Tonight I composed a song called "He and She," but because I am unable to write music I stared at the words and waited until something came to me. My fingers grazed the keys as my foot held down the middle peddle that muffles the sound. Suddenly I had composed a Russian Waltz, which surprised me due to the fact that I hadn't imagined that either "he" or "she" came from Russia. It's beautiful. It's about a girl who gave her heart to a boy and it leaves a hole in her chest. She waits for him everyday to beg for it back, but he clings to her heart, refusing to let it go despite the gaping hole. Eventually she dies, leaving him alone with only the guilt of her life on his hands.
I know, it sounds depressing when put in words, but on the piano...it's so much different. You don't know who's side to take: The girl who loved and gave all she could until all was lost, or the boy who wouldn't let go even when the end was inevitable. I am my piano's slave and I couldn't be more grateful for it. I escape to other worlds, other countries, other lives. I have the world at my fingertips. Play me a song.

Initials: L.A.

I'm in love with Los Angeles. I haven't seen enough of it and yet i'm only an hour and a half away. Granted it's "too close to home" for me, but it's growing on me enough that I'm starting not to mind. I've experienced the UCLA area and today I ventured to LACMA. Oh, the beauty. So peaceful. Someday, maybe when I calm my dizzying head, I'll move there so I can experience it for a little longer before buying that tiny apartment in San Francisco. Much love.

Behind Closed Lids

There are times when it's best to close your eyes tight just so you can open them again and see the light. A playlist for closed eyes and a playlist for when you open them again:

Shut Tight:
1. "Someone Like You" -ADELE
2. "Skinny Love"- Bon Iver
3. "Flume"- Bon Iver
4. "On The Nature of Daylight"- Max Richter
5. "July Flame"- Laura Veirs
6. "Failure"- Laura Marling
7. "New Romantic"- Laura Marling
8. "Doctor Blind"- Emily Haines

See:
1. "We Could Love"- Cavil At Rest
2. ""Heretics"- Andrew Bird
3. "In My Sight"- Imaginary Friend (EP)
4. "Mykonos"-Fleet Foxes
5. "Who Knows, Who Cares"- Local Natives
6. "Ghosts"-Laura Marling
7. "Mushaboom"-Fiest
8. "Comme Des Enfants"- Couer de Pirate
9. "Butch"- Saint Hotel
10. "Cecilia"- Simon & Garfunkel

I'm a Patient

I have a therapist who lives in the UK. Instead of laying on her couch with my face to the ceiling, she comes to me and I can sit any way I please. Her voice is calming and mollifies my troubled head. Her name is Dr. Marling and I listen while she sings poetry over soft acoustic melodies. She knows her own woes and shares them with the world, and when she has none, she makes up stories to please the crowds. She has many patients in the underground circle and we listen. I listen and sing along because she tends to sing my affections and my quiet contempt. Look into making an appointment between now and always.

Let's Experiment

I want more than I can have. I want to know things I can't. I want to start over and get it back and go forward to return it. My goal in life is to figure out what I want. What does this girl want? I know already too much of what I don't want and know already all that I have. I no longer wish to be a people pleaser, but that's kind of just what I am. I want to be an intellectual, but as far as that goes nobody knows. Sometimes I feel I'm built for the road,  just to go go go and not worry about anything except my tank of gas. Other times I find myself clinging to the comfort of the family couch and never wanting to leave. There's so much space out there and I want to get at it before another leaf falls. I want to breath in another area and escape the superficial aspirations and physical requirements that loom around this place and this time of my life. There's so much adventure that awaits and being a people pleaser i don't want to keep it waiting for much longer (whatever "it" may be). Life is beautiful so I want to capture it and breath it in before I have too much to worry about.I want to help people and learn their names.  All of this was created with me and you and everyone else in mind, so if you don't mind, I'd like to take a gander. I feel as if I'm seeing everything through the looking glass, i'm aware of it all, but  I can't quite obtain all that I want. The idea of my future changes everyday and I have no idea where to even begin. Let's experiment.

Curse the Rabbit

I ate a basket- full of chocolate and so i ran. I feel better, but my dog who is now walking with a slight limp, looks at me with contempt. Happy Easter!!

little me

Today I rolled in the grass and looked up at the sky, reviving my childhood. I played at the park like I once did and ran around barefoot. I miss little me and watching my niece and nephews frolic innocently around made me miss little me more. My uninhibited self with few cares except if the crust was left on my jelly and butter sandwich. The state of oblivion that allowed me to run amok without a care or an idea as to what I'd do next. Little me was a free spirit and I ran with her today. I need more days like today.

The Sky Dimming

Today was a day of crying. My mascara ran into my skin and my body rocked itself from the inside out. I hate crying because I never know what it means. New thoughts spring into my head and drown one another out until my head runs rampant with angry thoughts. It wasn't because of the concert that I was told "absolutely not" to. It was the argument...another argument. We don't hear each others' voices, we hear our own and the strain in our throats. Drunken minds speak the truth, but I find this holds true for saddened minds, frustrated minds, exasperated minds. Sometimes I feel I'm talking to a big looming wall that casts a shadow that covers all specks of light and nothing will break its barrier.
I thought about running away from it so I got myself dressed and dug out shoes. battery acid. My only pair of "upstairs" shoes had been burned by battery acid and crumbled to rubber bits at the touch of my quavering foot. So I went without. I stood on the edge of the balcony, shakily lowering myself down until I stopped and couldn't go. couldn't move, couldn't think of who would sit with me, couldn't go. Like paralysis. I felt bad for the things I'd said and sat out until the sky dimmed, dimmed, darkened. We need so desperately to listen to one another more. We need to stop assuming our own ideas are the absolute and just listen. If I were a rich king I'd go and do and go and do and go go go, but I'm not. I need to listen and gain what I can and help other's (my mother) to understand that I'm not a delicate shell. I cannot be protected forever, and I must experience to learn life's incredible and formidable plan. I don't like hurting people I love, but I'm so stuck inside myself that things can only be held at bay for so long, otherwise I'll end up jumping out of my skin and losing my marbles. There's gotta be an easier way to experience, live, discover, find, enlighten, inspire...etc.  Just listen.

Just...

Tame It

How It Felt

I remember the first, and so far, only time I had my heartbroken. I only write this now because as i was studying on my laptop "I Can't Take It" by Tegan and Sara came up on shuffle. At first I thought, "wow I haven't listened to this song in a while", but then I realized it was for a good reason. He was a friend of a friend and I fell for him immediately. We hung out a lot, I went to his house a lot, and we went out a lot. But, it was only for one specific reason: he liked my best friend who was the reason I'd met  him in the first place. She'd promised to help me get in good with him and like a silly child, I believed her. Her "wingman" duties turned into flirtatious behavior which entertained ideas in his head that didn't involve me. I was told over the phone (I'd demanded it) and I remember not being able to stand. I hung up and wandered into my room where i collapsed against the sliding glass door and a sensation of uncontrollable grief came over me. I'd never felt it before. I went to her house and talked it over with her and cried the whole time (something I'm not prone to do in front of other people) I lied and said I was happy that he'd taken interest in her because he "is such a good guy." I fell asleep mid conversation on her couch because I'd been so exhausted by the influx of emotions. After that I wouldn't go out, I ate very little, and I couldn't sleep due to a physical pain in my stomach. Like a black hole sucking everything in on itself. I cried out of nowhere all the time, and I remember getting back from her house and collapsing on my bedroom floor crying until I couldn't breath, forming a tight human ball on the floor. Tegan and Sara sang me through it on repeat for hours. I've never felt like that ever since. I've experienced rejection since then, but that was definition heart break .That was a double whammy and that was the only time thus far in my young life that I put my entire heart on the line. I'd given everything to see us together. I did stupid rebellious things and lied to my mom just to get this boy. Lesson learned. The real kind of love, the reciprocating kind, is worth waiting for, I know it. It'll be worth that unbearable and unforgettable summer where my heart was dragged across hot pavement and spit upon. It was a lesson that every girl learns and although it hurts more than anything in a young teen's life, it only proves its point in the end. There is better out there, there is someone who will end up loving you enough to cover up the scars.

It's "Normal" I Know Not Of.

Last night I went agro in my setting. There's too much noise in the family hovel and too many winged creatures hopping all over the couch and over my body. When you toss one back to the cage, another escapes. Self-suffocating into my pillow couldn't shield my ears from the shrewd shrieking of the hungry feathered fiends. They are my mother's pets and I see how much she loves them, but I've also said that the day my mother passes away...those birds will be set free. Know why? Birds live way past their 50's.
I like being in my own secluded world. Like yesterday, when I was home alone, I turned up the music and danced in the kitchen while washing dishes. For a moment I pretended that I was alone in my apartment washing up for a dinner party that would take place later in the evening. Even the birds played along, because they stopped their incessant peeping and it was as if they weren't there. It's not a jungle out there, it's a jungle in here and I go outside to escape it. The floor is dowsed in seeds and scraps of paper from various projects, there are blankets and sheets on the floor, newspapers, and dog hair. I clean and the next day the sink is full up again. I'm in search of the quiet, people are my company, but only at my will of it.
Despite my efforts, I feel full of air and it seems as if my body is taking  a great heave of a sigh in preparation to sink in on itself. My jeans are too tight and I want to leap out of my skin and leave my brain for someone else to think with. I almost lunged at the TV when a commercial advertising cake came on. Then I realized that I'm not only resisting the temptation of food, but also the temptation of instant gratification. It's too loud in the house right now, the birds trill like fire alarms and my eardrums quiver. Our neighbors must hate us, in fact I'm sure of it. I cross my fingers and squeeze my eyes shut wishing for that small quiet apartment made just for me. The house is full with bird cages and sometimes I feel as if it's acting like the biggest of them all.
On a brighter note, I'm confident in my new fresh start routine and feel like by the end of the week I should see some kind of results. This is one thing I can definitely control. It's not easy and I already crave bread, but instant gratification must get lost in the shuffle. Below is "Everybody But Me" by Lykke Li. It's my "today's emotions" video.

Girl Crush. You Know You've Got One Too.

This is Shannyn Sossamon. Good Lawd. 

For Reals

"Living Room" by Tegan & Sara woke me up at 5:00 a.m. on the dot. This, my phone alarm was urging me out of bed: "I wonder why it is that I did to make you move in across the way from me...." Out of bed I started with:

1. one cup of honey bunches of oats w/ 1/2 c. of fat free milk

2. banana

Then I worked out and almost died because it was fuggin' ridiculously hard. I.Hate.Squats. the end.

Now, because I'm going to be late for school I'll tell you that i made a delcious chocolate protein shake and that is all for now. Stay posted!!! Adieu.
**UPDATE**
Today, I again made my new favorite lunch recipe: "Vegetarian Pizza" Try this:
1 wheat tortilla
1 small tomato
1 c. cucmber
salt/pepper
1 oz. goat cheese.
Let your tortilla heat on the hot pan as you sprinkle it with these ingredients (modify as you wish) fold over the tortilla to make a taco and BAM you have delicious at less than 200 calories!! Already I'm finding that this is going to work out. Everything shall be swell, because this was all once a habit for me...a lifestyle. (back in my "size 3" days.) I'm getting creative and I've been shown the light over at http://www.myfitnesspal.com/ this website is basically an online food journal, but you can type in ANYTHING and it will find it within its cute little computer database and add it into your journal. It doesn't stop there, after inputting your height/weight it will tell you how many calories you should be eating a day. The only thing you really have to do is be honest and put your food intake in and the rest will be done for you!! Tomorrow marks the 3rd day and by Easter Sunday I should be well into a routine that won't fall to shambles over the chocolate bunny fiend. 

It's Just Not Gonna Be Enough

There isn't enough chicken salad in the bowl...and it's my fault. I called ahead of time to tell my grandma that Im trying to eat sensibly so she made chicken salad and some kind of pickled beans. So, to everyone elses' dismay that will be dinner and since I am the official  baker of desserts, they will get none of that either. I feel shitty. So I offered my services up and made a quick run to the store for bread. I came back and my grandma was displeased with my choice of "San Francisco French Bread" golly. I tried. Now everyone shall suffer through tonight's dinner with meager portions, pickle breath, and "uncreative" bread. This is what happens when healthy is woven into the every day meal...things get chaotic and feelings get hurt. Give me strength.

Farmer's Market

I wished a young man would walk next to me and gather up the bundles of flowers that sat in pots, wrapped in plastic. I was in search of tomatoes for a vegetarian pizza recipe I uncovered. The farmer's market is a beautiful place in itself. Yes, there are generally too many rushy rush people squeezing past each other, but everything is fresh, and the color to everything seems to be a little bit brighter (actually a lot brighter.) I wandered down the street in my floral print dress, my toes peeking out from my woven sandals. The wind would usually make me complain, but not today. The farmer's market is beautiful and I hope to live near one when I leap over the brim of this fish bowl. I'd like it to stretch out further down the road and I'd like to wander it alone or with a companion, a basket on my arm. I'm old school, I'd rather be at the farmer's market on the weekend than laying out to get a tan. It made me forget about the bad, the aggravating, and the downright perplexing things and people in my life. Today my mind buzzed over those things as i shopped at Costco for my new "cleansing" diet. Some people are all about themselves. In fact, a lot of people are all about themselves and it's sad and seems to be growing naturally within young generations. Certain people want to put you down and dampen your day, but I say to hell with it. Go to a farmers market and listen to your ipod as you peruse the selections of fresh vegetables, flowers, bread, and fruit. Just do it. Just get away for a bit and forget about the "I"s in your team. It will make things better and hopefully give you a perfect 10 moment. Every breath of air carries specks of dirt, but that doesn't keep us from breathing.
***Update: From ingredients purchased at the farmers market I made a goat cheese, tomato, and cucumber "pizza" on a wheat tortilla. It was delicious. (I kinda just rhymed there.) Good day.

I Have Been Inspired and I'm Doing it Too! Hazah!

So, by now you've all realized how inspired I've been lately. By this post I hope not to steal the spotlight or the intentions of my dear friend over at "AP Russian History." I've been struggling with weight my entire life. It's a bitch to try and resist the fries, bagels, cakes, pies, burgers, candy, and cookies. Thus, I am overweight. I've been giving myself face-to-face stern talks in the mirror about changing my ways for the better, writing inspiration in lipstick. Obviously, my mirror self takes advice from no one. However, my dear friend has officially announced on her ingenious blog that she will go on a cleansing trek to better her health and to experience the other side of the food kingdom. I was inspired by how she made it sound. I'm always dreading my "fresh days" where I cut myself off, but she has made it sound positive and enlightening. This is why I love my dear friend. She can be pessimistic and hilarious or she can be positive and hilarious, being poetic all the time. So, she has set out on this little dietary endeavour and so I shall set out with her (whether she knows it or not) so that I may have a buddy to slap my wrist or a buddy to talk to about the temptations that haunt my dreams. I will lose weight. I will. According to my mirror talk last night I deserve to be happy, comfortable, and confident. I deserve to slip on a pair of jeans (you guys, I have 9 pairs of jeans and only ever wear 2. Also, I used to be a size 3 my sophmore year until the gluttony monster reared her ugly face) and feel comfortable. There are clothes that juuuust fit me and I want them to slide on with ease. SO goodbye tummy flab you terrible and constant fiend. For I set out on a healthful cleansing adventure with my dear friend. She said she'd post pictures of her new recipes and delicious creations so if you want to see go to her blog.http://aprussianhistory.blogspot.com/ It's sensational. I will post blogs about how I am doing on my journey so that I can't lie/cheat/fudge on any details. I vow  to be honest and to eventually post a before and after pic.  C'est la vie double chin. This means war.

Nochella

But the music reigns on. 

Why We Want to Be Someone Else and Why It's Better to Stay You

Someday when I reach the heavenly gates God is going to say: "Shame upon thou for committing one of the seven deadly sins." At that point in time I will rack my brain for the things I've done that would provoke such a "greeting." I've never been overly proud, gluttonous, lustful, wrathful...sloth-like, greedy or...oh, envy. I know that feeling for shizzle. I look at pictures of people and friends and find that they are so pretty, adventurous, lucky, loved, creative, witty, rich, beautiful, popular, fashionable, skinny, and cool. At this point I promptly go scour the kitchen for something chocolatey or something that contains the word "Ben" or "Jerry" on it. Then I realise that the only thing I want to be is everything that I'm not. How insane is that? Am I a girl or WHAT? This is a tragedy my friends and I know I'm not the only person who will die with a big green stamp across her forehead. I want to absorb some of the things that I find lacking in myself from these people and maintain the cool lifestyle that they do...how do I get there? By depriving myself of my natural assets and blessings that I don't want to come face-to-face with. So here we go:
It's better  to be you. It's better for me to be me. This is a seemingly "no duh" concept, only it's not. Sometimes the hardest thing in the world is being yourself. Sometimes I look in the mirror when I wake up in the morning and think "Oh, God...this is what I have to work with?" (then I pour an extra cup of cereal in my bowl) Sometimes you'll compare yourself to the natural beauty in your Chemistry class and suddenly she'll look up at you like "wtf?" and then the only reason you stop the comparison is to prevent yourself from being deemed a creeper. This could possibly just be me here, but it happens quite often. I people watch to assemble all of my flaws in one bundle and then carry it over my shoulder for the rest of the week like a hobo's knapsack. Here's why it's better to be you: If you weren't you and I wasn't me, we wouldn't be sitting here right now reading this ever-intriguing blog entry. The person sitting next to you or the person downstairs would be alone in the way that you would no longer be a part of their life. The conversations you had today would never have happened, and the people who you helped or yelled at would never have learned a lesson. The picture you drew, poem you wrote, music you played would all be lost in a non-existent  time zone in some other realm. If you weren't you, you wouldn't exist and that would suck. Then think of this: The things you haven't done yet, (roadtrip, act in a movie, invent a new recipe, have a baby, dance on the beach, get married, graduate from college) all of those things would be done by someone else and you would envy them anyway!!! If it isn't you, it's someone else, so if you weren't YOU it'd be someone else!!! See the vicious cycle? SO, yes there are physically beautiful people who will always (for...the better part of their lives) be prettier, richer, wiser, more creative, "luckier" BUT considering I am only 18, I have the right to opportunities. I don't aspire to be all the things listed above, but I also haven't lived long enough to have the time to reach for them yet. Envy is a natural occurrence, but I'm kinda done comparing, stressing, and wishing that I was someone else. I from now on will allow myself (feel free to do the same) to be inspired by these people and if they are model citizens...I'll try to rise to the occasion and model their good decisions, behaviour, and spirit. That's all there is to do because I am me and you are you and we are awesome. There will be days when uncles Ben and Jerry will have to visit from their frosty abode, but then realize that soon you will look in the mirror and think "Hell yes, this is me!" That way, when you reach the higher kingdom in the sky God, (or whoever you do or don't believe in) will say "Whelp...at least it's you. Congratulations, c'mon in." And you guys: I love us.

Young Victoria in Love

She wasn't a very pretty woman in her later years. She was independent and free, but she was also said to be grumpy and petulant. She was 18 when she was crowned Queen and began to  be tangled in the weeds of complicated romance. I'm watching the movie "The Young Victoria" as I write this, and though it moderately adjusts itself for modern appeal, I admire Victoria's character. I admire the complicated romance that forms between her, Prince Albert, and Lord M. Prince Albert's love for her is unconditional and true, yet she  confides in Lord M, the humorous and light-hearted man close to home. She loves both, receiving romantic love letters of admiration from Prince Albert, but finds his written confessions closely comparable to Lord M's comfortable companionship. Part of me would like a romance like hers. Rather, all of me wants a chivalrous gentleman who keeps vulgarity at bay and pulls his pants up. Who, listens, admires, and jokes at things that appropriate themselves. It's bizarre how culture changes. We had these men who were controlling and  under strict mannerisms, women who were confined to society's pressures. For those things I don't admire Victoria's era or her lifestyle, but for the romance and respect that bred throughout her young life. I don't ask that a guy pull out my chair, or rush ahead and open a door, or insist on doing tasks that I could easily do (obviously equality and independence is a must) but someone who respects people, things, and ideas around him. I need to be inspired, I need to see a face that elicits faith in the love that I've seen crumble and fail. I want to see something new in his face near every day...I'm truly an old woman aren't I? Anyways,  her marriage as depicted in the film is romantic and seemingly indestructible(probably over embellished) but it budded from friendship, and a general need for one another. So, here's to the young Victoria and her young independence and romantic adventures.

I'd Dance Naked In That Field

I cupped my hand over my gaping mouth and SCREAMED. 
http://sasquatchfestival.com/ **I'm pretty sure this beauty is sold out. :(
http://www.sfoutsidelands.com/ ****BUT NOT THIS ONE!!!!! 
"Music doesn't lie. If there is something to be changed in this world, then it can only happen through music."- Hendrix

Call From Hemingway

My grandmother compared me to Hemingway over the phone yesterday. She's reading a book called The Paris Wife  which is about his first wife Hadley Richardson. Richardson said that Ernest wouldn't write anything for months at a time, but then all of a sudden he'd be inspired and write for days on end without sleep. He'd take an hour nap and then waken to his alarm, just to resume writing. I think maybe that's the greatest compliment I've ever received. I cannot write like Hemingway, but writing is in my blood. I feel the way he did sometimes. I won't write a single poem for weeks and then someone around me will say something like "he never gets me" and I'll find the tragedy or the joy in it and write. I can spill out three, four, five poems a day...or sometimes just half a poem will come to me and I won't finish it. I wrote a 165 page "book" over the course of three days. I stayed up late, skipped dining out with my family, and worked through throbbing headaches and eye stings.
Writing and poetry are the only ways I know how to express myself with words thoroughly enough. Poetry rips the deepest and concerningly dark emotions from the deepest cavities of my being to the tiny page of my moleskin notebook. My mom feared that I was possessed by Sylvia Plath during the time period in class when we focused on her. I would wake in the middle of the night with words and random phrases pulsating in my brain. I suppose it should be linked to a form of schizophrenia...like poetzophrenia. Instead of voices I hear words. They speak to me only because they want to be written down, but then they go away. Or, at least I can keep them shut between two cardboard covers if I wish to do so. The greatest tragedy of all would to be the loss of creativity. for me it would be as if my voice had dwindled into a weak whisper and then disappeared all together.

Give Me A Reason Not To.

I have to write a second time today because I can't stop thinking, and when that happens, I need to spill  before my brain gurgles and jolts. today ends spring break. did I not mention that earlier? Well, yes, it ends today. I've never had a more brilliant spring break in the entirety of my short life. You know this because I pretty much recounted every moment of it on this here blog. BUT that's not what I'm talking about. Today I realized that out of my entire family (the immediate family...not the rich side. ;) I'm the only one who seems to be chomping at the bit, dizzying myself with aspirations, and the question of where to go next. I don't plan on staying here, not in the slightest, and my 19 year old sister doesn't either, but I'm thinkin' that I'll be taking flight before she will. Granted I'll still be in college when she graduates, but I'm also willing to live off of Koolaid and stale bread in order to just be on my own. I know, I know, I'm that typical teen vowing to get outta town with and attitude. Leave everyone in the dust while I smudge on my thick black eyeliner and tug on my leather jacket and ugg boots. Non. Here's the thing. I'm oddly...different from your average teen. I do stupid shit, say stupid shit, and act like a baby sometimes, but on a regular basis, I'm pretty prone to level-headedness. I should thank my mom for that. She brought us all up in a "tough shit" environment where you rub dirt on your cuts and cuddle sessions with the siblings came...never. We love each other to the furthest galaxy and back, but we also like to beat each other up routinely. Anyways, what I'm saying is that today...I baked chocolate chip cookies. I didn't go  on a rant about not being understood by all adults in the universe and wahhh wahhhh I want a new cell phone and boohoo I need new jeans. (not that my thick ass can fit in those at the moment. ;) Basically, I'm ready to be independent. I'm so ready to just say 'hey, I'm gonna go out for a walk/drive and then I'm going to go meet up with friends at 9:00 p.m and then I'm gonna go buy a tub of Ben & Jerry's. AND EAT IT ALL!" to that would come complete silence, because I'd be living on my own schedule. If I wanted to drive to New York, I could  without the questions, safety measure talk, and nagging. I could just go. I've become extremely prone to instant annoyance with my family (not the kind described above) just the kind that comes when I play 20 questions before walking out the door, the "what are you doings" when clearly I am doing laundry. I don't like being so easily annoyed, but it's also because I'm different from the rest of my family. They find it antisocial that I'd rather lay on my floor listening to music than sit with them on the couch watching TV. They find that I'm always "angry" because I'm not constantly smiling. So, I think it'd be in everyone's best interest if this bird got to fly far enough away that the distance would make the heart grow fonder and more appreciative. I want to live in a different city (San Francisco, New York, Boston, or even L.A.) as long as I could live in that apartment made famous by an early post. ;) It will happen, this year has flown by. Let's do that twice more and awayyyyyy she goes.

The Good Ones

I'm going to make a little collage/list of the people worth noting and watching out for because ladies and gents: these are the good ones. 

1. Regina Spektor- she's managed to illicit the deepest of human emotions with her stunning compositions/lyrics that inspire something deeper than..oh...what day of the week it is. There's real talent here folks, she'll break  your heart and then give you hope to reach out for love again.

2. Carey Mulligan- Not your average actress...better. You won't find her making an appearance at every fancy event just to get more attention. No, this lady is classy. She has the essence of an old time movie star, yet maintains the modesty that promises grade A performances every time.

3. Andrew Bird- His lyrics will get'cha and that's for certain. Sometimes it's hard to understand what exactly he's saying, yet the music that is plucking away behind him creates a mutual feeling of understanding nonetheless. His spunky acoustic diddies never disappoint and there's a song for every perfect 10 moment as well as those rainy day moments.

Indhra Chagoury & Jeremy Jules-the creators of www.wearehandsome.com, these Australian designers have crafted spunky suits that draw the eye towards those sunny days and being the unique babe/beau amongst wallflowers. Though the collection is not extremely large in content, there is nothing subtle about these suits. I ran across them by accident and now frequently visit, envisioning myself in the black panther suit or the James Dean inspired suit. ;)
*So these are just a few people to look over. I don't want to overwhelm anyone. ;) I guess my point is to look for those who aren't making music about slapping a hoe and designing the clothes of conformity and looking up to those actors/actresses who have turned the craft into an easy way to gain popularity and get drugs on the side. There's so much inspiration out there that if I listed all that I knew of here, my blog post would be 365 days long. They don't have to be famous by any means, but sometimes I feel like the youth culture is allowing itself to be clutched in the wicked hands of the big-time industries that force feed the mass to it. Look for the beauty in things. Our world would be a little better if everyone just looked for the beauty and stopped trying to outdo each other by creating bigger and louder. Subtleties love modesty which is the granddaughter of beauty.

(Donut) Leave Yet

**Musical hint: turn on "Green Gloves" by The National before reading...i feel it's appropriate. 
Sometimes getting together requires nothing more than an imported box of donuts and cannolis. Sometimes "hanging out" requires nothing but sitting on carpeted floor with piles of blankets talking about loads of nonsense. Sometimes it's these very times that remind you of time itself. How much is in front of you and how little is left. These people I find myself with talk about the future, but are also very keen on the present, something I used to ignore because it didn't mean enough to me. I used to not really want to live in the "now" because it seemed dull and wasteful. I was always looking to escape in the possibilities of the future, but now I'm clinging to time right now. Here's what this consists of: sitting on the floor talking about boobs, food, movies, boys, music, PMS, sex, food, food, fooooooood, how fat we all are, how we're not fat at all, remorse, and love. This is how we manage to stop time. We've learned to utilize it and render it to our liking because...what else is there to do with it really?Think about it. Sometimes I sit around and curse the hours, oh, the hours. How long they seem some days, how dull and stretched out. Other times I bless them and remember that those very hours are the only thing holding us to the earth as it spins at incomprehensible speeds. whether or not we keep track of them or ignore them all together, they're what we spend, and lately I've been spending them like a goddess. I'm so ready to move on, but I'm not ready to let go of some of the best experiences and the best people I've met to date. You see, we're all so...whacked in the brains and that's why it's even harder to let go. Time is the teller of all things, but considering that this whole high school experience is about to pass, I'm just going to get lost in it.

Your "Night Terror" Is My Lullaby

I'm in love with Miss Marling. She inspires my brains out. I want to be like her when I grow up. ;)

 

Things to Do

Some people inspire your brains out. Some people make you want to be better, stronger, prettier, more ambitious, faithful, and open-minded. Some people. Sometimes these people don't even know they're inspiring you and that's when you know their inspiration is true. Perhaps if they knew they are as inspirational as you find them to be, they'd purposely seek out ways to be more inspirational, to be greater, which would eventually lead to a nose stuck way up in the air.  But when they're the quiet shadow that goes about its business, goes about its life without the knowledge of even your existence, and meanwhile you're drawing inspiration from them, it's a good feeling. It makes you want to look around for more of these "good" people, more of the people who live just awesomely. They're living, and you realize that there's more to life than just the day-to-day routine and that's how and when the inspiration hits you. There's something to be said for these good people and there's too much emphasis on the bad ones. Too many moments do I find myself listening to a story about someone else's ridiculousness and how dumb they are, how irresponsible, how silly, how stupid, how conceited, how full of shit they are. There's a switch that has recently appeared in my head that allows me to make those stories and conversations fizzle into background noise. When I say something not nice about a complete stranger I find that lately, I curse myself for it on the inside. I don't like these sticky negative feelings and words that are inevitable and disgusting. This is why those who are modestly and unknowingly inspiring my brains out are so prominent in my day-to-day life. If they can live a life so full of happiness and adventure and love, then so can I. I only have so much to look forward to. I find comfort in recreational activities like the piano. Oh, the piano. How I love thee. Photography with my little digital camera, and my determined search for old polaroid camera, and being in the moment with friends and family have all made the light that floods the lives of these inspirational people drip into my own. I hope that one day, as I go about my life, the life that isn't even in blue prints just yet, that I will unknowingly inspire someone. I don't want to know who, or where, or why. I just want to live a good life that is so full of love and spontaneity that someone will reach for more because of it.

New Eyes

I've felt like crying all morning and there's no real purpose for this lump in my throat. Everything on TV seemed sad and my body wants so badly to rest. I've been staying out late and waking up before the sun, so I suppose my emotional imbalance could have something to do with that. I sat at the beach by myself for a while yesterday evening with my guitar (pretending to know how to play ;) and it was so peaceful. I had thoughts and I sent thoughts away. At some points I don't think I thought anything at all, I was just sitting so close to the ocean and it was quietly darkening. My friends showed up one by one, and as we talked, I realized what a level head I have on my shoulders. There was a party that I wasn't invited to, but the stories give me a clear enough picture. Teens drinking, drinking, daring each other to drink, playing drinking games, driving after drinking, laughing at those who were drunk. It didn't appeal to me and we discussed it and disagreed, but it was good because I realized what morals I have solidified into my mental carving. Case in point: I would drink with my small group of close friends if we were all sitting around chatting and not planning on going anywhere after the deed had been done. I'm only eighteen, I don't see the fun in going to a party where everyone is getting hammered because everyone else is doing it. I don't believe in that kind of thing. Admittedly I follow the crowd in some cases, because I'm not 100% comfortable with myself yet and I'm definitely not very outgoing, but certain things (like drinking and drugs) I'd never do just because a dozen random strangers at a party are doing it. Sometimes I just want to help my friends see how I do, but that's not really my job is it? I mean, I'm really not sure. I love helping them and seeing them do great things, but sometimes I'm not sure how far to press a point. I am proud of myself, however, I like that I'm growing up sturdy, for now, and I expect to break at some point. Everyone gets broken at some point, and then they can build themselves back up as a new person with more understanding. For now, I'm sturdy and excited for the future.

On a Secluded Couch

I was graced with the company of my very close friends last night. We drove the wrong way, made the wrong turns, and then drove the right way. We gazed up at the tall buildings with eagle statues, poked fun at each other, and laughed until we cried. I opened their eyes to the Den and am pleased to say that they enjoyed it as much as I had hoped. We got the best (most comfortable) seat in the house, which is usually occupied. A couch, up on a secluded landing placed near a wide window and a "grandfather" chair. We broke all the rules of our "diets" and succumbed to the pangs for comfort foods. (i.e. grilled cheese, cheesecake, fries) we ordered without counting our cash and pretended to be the rich kings that we sometimes we wish we were. There wasn't enough room for all of us on the couch, so we smooshed and pressed together, resting our heads on each other's shoulders while listening to the character's partaking in the open mic. The flash of my camera distracted some of the diners, but if they only knew my love for making memories and my need to hang on to every moment, i'm sure they would've understood. Our waiter wasn't pleased with our laughing out loud so much, but to conceal a laugh is to conceal happiness. We were very happy. The bookshelf held many an  encyclopaedias and a biography on Dolly Parton. We ate and indulged, we complained about calorie count and ordered more because it was making us smile. The wafting music gently rocked us into a drowsy state that paired with the dim lighting just beautifully. There were other things, people, and places we could have gone to and been with, but ultimately this was the place we were, and this was the place we stayed for hours. We played shouting games on the way home and blasted songs we didn't know the words to. We went fast, too fast, then slow, too slow. We turned corners and went back the other way for a chocolate shake, playing rock paper scissors for the cherry. (i lost: rock to paper) We went back to the house where we met, lost cell phone service, and watched a show about pizza. The chairs in the living room became useless, because the floor just seemed right. Head on lap, hands on chest, knees against forehead. Ironic confessions were made, acceptance, acceptance, another question until our text messages read parental threats .I love when time is lost. I love the thought of not having cell phones to remind, nag, and beep. And for awhile that's exactly how it was. Time doesn't exist if you're making the most of it. Sun goes up and goes down and we were all together for both.

It's Happening

I've been having the time of my life recently. I got to see my favorite band play their last show at UCLA on Thursday, and needless to say I made a spectacle of myself in the best of ways. Sweat was streaming down my body, but I couldn't really feel the heat due to the extreme high of excitement and love. A close friend made the journey from San Clemente to UCLA with me, pushing the limits of her rickety auction car. I waited in a bustling group of fans afterward for a picture with Kelcey (who seems to be very down-to-earth and is very nice.) I had nothing prepared for him to sign, so I handed him the only thing I had on me, which was my Coach wallet. His signature makes it better. :) I realized in the heat of the day that I was experiencing true happiness. I was with my close friend, on a beautiful college campus, under a blue sky, listening to my favorite tunes, complete bliss. We journeyed the 1 1/2 home with a bag of gummy worms, beef jerky, Mr. Goodbar, chex mix, and large bottled waters. The happiness hasn't drained just yet either, though I've been mulling over the things I should have told Kelcey, the things that were lost in my jittery nerves, and shaking hands. I would have told him that I'm going to Saddleback, that I live in SC, that my friend (don't be weirded out) bought his brother's car, and that I have mastered "Who knows, who cares" on the piano. I'm a fan. What can I say?
Last night I kicked off spring break with my lovely ladies... and a fine gentleman. We ventured deep into irvine  after our plans to hike went south. We found ourselves in the midst of a self-proclaimed Korean town at a restaurant called Guppy. It was hot, but once again, I couldn't really feel the uncomfortable heat. We ate and ordered ridiculous things, like a 25lb shaved ice/fruit bowl that came in a glass conch shell. we wandered and laughed until we couldn't wander anymore. we took pictures and captured the dwindling time we have left.
It's happened. It's starting to hit everyone that we only have two months left to basque in each other's  company. I love my friends so much that it hurts to think we must part. If I didn't have my camera, I don't know what I'd do. I skim through the memories often and hope for more, and they come along more often than not. We've been going places with no plan of the perfect outcome. Sometimes the places we go aren't the places we meant to end up at. Sometimes the things we really want to do don't fall into place as we'd hoped, but we always look for more. We never throw our hands up and let the day slip away, we stay in contact and follow each other's cars down the freeway until we see somewhere we'd like to be. We pick up and hang up until we're together again. I've realized that it doesn't matter worth a nickle where we are or end up, as long as we're together we laugh until we cry, we cry until we need to laugh, and we wander until the sky goes pitch. It's happening.