On roule à 160

i think this is probably the best as of yet.

Laisse tomber les filles

Bang Bang

i. fucking. LOVE. Mareva Galanter.

every day

Sometimes, I just want to be able to do stuff like this. But then I think, is that enough? What is enough?
Today has not been so good so far. It will improve, though.
When I grow up, I will have a house packed with wood furniture that my Dad built. All of us will, because there will be so much that a single one of us couldn't fit it all in our house. And all the furniture that he built for this house in the garage will move all over the country and be scattered into little corners of the world, eventually.
I think I'm a little over-emotional right now.

i miss i miss i miss, precious heart

abbey, i want that to make you feel a little bit better. i am so sorry things are just crap for you right now. here's sincere wishes that it is only temporary crap.
today i was thinking that i take everything much too seriously. like i don't really have the right to say i like something unless i'm completely informed and passionate about it, or that i understand something unless i have spent time carefully studying it. but most people don't do that, so i don't know if that makes me a tryhard or what. but then i think, why should i lower my standards of basic existence because of the way other people behave? then i kind of stop thinking about it because it's a bit stressful.
i'm supposed to be doing a timeline on Stalin, but i might make cookies instead. Today at DPS, Morgan said the best thing ever, because I did the same thing, I just didn't notice: In Social right now (we're studying dictators), it's really hard to focus to take notes because really she's just rating all the different dictators on their attractiveness. Dictators have sex appeal! I'm not sure why, I think it must be their charisma. Arielle used to say she wanted Trotsky to be her cat. He was Stalin's competitor for the control of Russia after Lenin died. (I apologize if I'm spelling all the dictators wrong, I'm not sure if their different in French or not). Anyways, I can't remember if Trotsky was the one who was exiled and was involved with Frieda, the South American painter. At least I think she was South American. And I think it was her. And Trotsky.

i don't even know when vera gets back. but she needs to be back really, really soon.
also, i need to go to Nellie's really badly.
and i want to be outside
and i have to clean the computer desk
and i have work to do
and my father is having work friends for dinner tonight.
lovely. just lovely.
what a waste of a sunday.

Wednesday

today was fricken' awesome.
we didn't have rehearsal after school because Mr. Paddock was sick, and so Adam and I took the train down to Kensington. Waiting for the train he ran into Tanis and I ran into Esmerelda, who was riding a bike in a skirt to her job interview at Trends. She was really nervous so she was kind of out of it, and she kept licking her hands because they were muddy and she didn't want to make a bad impression. It made me smile.
But yes, I made Adam take the train like a commoner. I finally finished my Starbucks cards so I don't have to go there anymore every time I want coffee. We walked everywhere. I'm sure it was very novel for him. Then we found a nice spot by the river where the ice had melted through right by the edge and we could see the water running. It wasn't very warm, but it seemed very spring-ish. And it was something different. March is not December or January or February and so it shouldn't feel like any of those months. It should have it's own tone, and now it does. I'm really just very happy with it all.
We ran into Abbey and Megan on our way back to the train, which was funny (as I told them) because I said to Adam when we got down there that we were bound to run into Abbey. Something something seeing Mandy, rush hour train riding, ridiculous light conversation. Adam: It's so funny when you get all awkward because you don't know what to say to the people that are there.
I went with my mother to Jimmy's, and Jimmy was even there! We bought delicious cherry juice. Right now only my mother, my father and I are home, and we talked a little about Pat, which shouldn't make me happy but I think it was more the fact that they were comfortable having that talk with me there. They just as well could've waited until I went to do something else.
I'm fucking going to Portugal. I'm going to see Hedwig with Arielle.
Downers: Yeah, I really need a new job. Yearbook deadline in less than a MONTH. I need to finish an art project from last semester. I hope I don't have any homework tonight...
and that is all I have to say about that.

giant shock into reality

please disregard every dumb, heartless thing i've ever said.
http://www.lyricsfreak.com/b/blue+rodeo/five+days+in+may_10042082.html
i hated this song until this afternoon when i heard it in the car on the way to Emily's play. (which was awesome, by the way. the troll costumes changed my life. plus, Emily is just such an awesome growler!)
i miss Vera. I think when she comes back, I will make her dinner from the vegan cookbook i got out of the library.

let's learn!

OUCH.

I'm just going to stop thinking and just busy myself to no end. Consequentially, I got alot done today without even having to take a nap. My mother is deathly ill so I bought groceries, and at the same time applied for a new job and returned movies. I switched shifts at work so I can go to GWT, and booked a doctor's appointment. I fed the hungry masses of my home. I called Morgan.
Now I'm going to do social homework so my mind doesn't start to dwell on things like next year or this summer or grad or the election or my weird dreams or other things that really just aren't my fucking business. And I'm not freaking out. I'm getting very good at not following my gut instincts, because they are usually working against me. I don't even have a reason to be feeling uptight, so take that, gut instinct. I'm not even talking to you.
But, I'm seeing less of everyone this week. I'm pining for my independance. I seem to have misplaced it since September.

if i were deaf, and you were dumb, imagine what we could become.

just call me any time you can't sleep. I can come find you, too.
1. Dropping chem
2. Finding a new job
3. Mailing my transcripts
4. Cleaning my room?
5. Generally getting my shit toGETHER. if only it were so easy to say no, or to get it without having to spend time on it. I'm just so fucking independant.
and I would like to take this opportunity to insist that I'm not actually self-actualized. It takes me such a long time to realize or understand things that I do.
OH!
6. Becoming a competent bassist.

retrospect

"...dawn dust neon constant, constant, constant so yes, maybe some days I wake up witha no vacancy sign around my neck and those days, it looks like love is just a name I've written on a bad check and I leave you alone like money...
...so my friend, comrade, lover in arms, swear spit make a toast clink pelvis on it, because if you are willing we will take our moments as they flicker under this immortal fickle filament you see how it is, on again off again on again off again, but we know this: even if we go our ways, our 24 hour hearts are lit."
-barbara adler

what IS it?!

"there is too much food and no one left over
to eat up all the weird abundance"

fake blood

i wrote this months ago. morgan likes it. i have faith in morgan. i need. to write. more. often.

Last night:
I was curling my hair for the first time
You phoned to tell me about
witnessing
An accident on Crowchild-
“I saw them use
the Jaws of Life
to pull this man out
he was probably dead!”

I was shaving my legs,
and then i went out:
I was wearing other people's clothes
I listened to other people's music
I took pictures,
and started drinking
"It was like there was no front of the car
it was so totaled
It was just the back end
of a car."

Now my friend's Dad is dying:
he was always so healthy
They think it's genetic.
I was reading poetry
"now I'm waiting again
and the years run thin...
I hope death contains
less than this."

I was focusing a little too hard:
"I wish I could understand poetry,"
says you
"me too,"
says I, and
"I am so sorry about your father,"
and
"are you alright, though?"
"yes, yes, they're sweeping up the glass now,"
says you,

and so am I:
I was smoking for the first time
on bleachers where I grew up
where I once played hide and seek
where I once raced
and filmed movies for fun.
we talked in the car in the alley
where I once walked to the bus stop
at the end
Now there are pools of orange light there
"with you, and then him
it was hard, it was like
missing a leg."
says you.

I ignored it:
Alex believes in shadow people
and in ghosts
like I do,
but you don't.
"I’m fine, that was
exactly
what I needed"
says I.

Now I’m sweeping up the glass:
when I wake up
it's noon
on Sunday
my hair is uncurled
I’m wearing my own clothes
the alley and the bleachers are full of snow
(and so am I.)
cars are speeding down Crowchild-
I took a picture
to show you later
What a good job they did of
sweeping
up.

actual dreams

"My art project has come to life! She is an old gypsy, practically extinct. She’s sitting on the rickety porch of her teetery little home. Looking up, she notices that even though it’s late, the moon hasn’t risen. She’ll just have to put one up there herself. She starts cutting a moon out of her red doormat. It’s tough to cut, and the circle is a bit jagged and uneven. She doesn’t notice that the moon has already risen, red, right above her home. The red begins to bleed out of it and onto the stairs of her porch. There is a little river of blood flowing from the top of her stairs down onto the path. The path stones are all slick and the circle of red fabric she had cut is now a bowl full of red."
So I was telling Esmerelda about this, and she says that red moons are symbols of death. I think this might be the first time I've dreamt about anything that could even count as a symbol... it's usually just really vague, like 'I was running around an apartment and we were hiding from people who were chasing us'. There's this one dream I remember really well, about this two men chasing me and Jessie and one was long and thin and the other was short and fat. Then I realized that I'm pretty sure that's just a dream of Jessie's that she told me about it. It's strange that it was assimilated into my memory.
There was this one recurring dream I used to have when I was younger, that this stocky sort of monster woman with snakey sort of hair captured my family in a cage. I think the cage was in Jessie's room, but at the time it was Jamie's room, and the cage was where his crib was. Yes, it was that long ago. Anyways, the only way I could free them was by drinking this potion, and she wouldn't tell me what it did. So I drank it, and I was standing in my hallway and there were mirrors in the rooms at either end, like one in the door of my parent's room and one in the door of Jessie's. And depending which direction I was facing, my teeth either looked normal or they were all filed sharp, like the monster's, and I couldn't tell which reflection showed the truth.
Now I'm just rambling. This is over.
NO- I just read possibly the greatest quote ever. It's a blog- dinosaur casserole. "1 Cup Stuff, Eight Cups Nonsense, and a lot of small, confused plastic dinosaurs." ahahahah. yes.

sha-sha

sha-doo.
i'm kind of sad because upon reflecting on my blogging, i realise i've become fairly self-conscious in my writing. i used to just be able to lay everything out, but now that i know people actually read this... lol. let's not be delusional here, who keeps a blog if they don't want anyone to read it?
but here is the point: i am tapping in to my september self, all dark and light from summer. bee, remember our random latenight meetings? i wore cutoffs and blue sneakers and guy's tshirts and i'd longboard over to your house in the orange and gray night. there was not even the trace of a chill. i never thought i'd be able to survive another winter here (though days like today make it worth it, despite the cold cold cold.)
i'm looking for that focus and that knowledge of priorities and of my SELF. i had no one to answer to. i wore my hair short.
i may possibly be in alot of shit with some people. but i've decided that i'm
a) taking responsibility for my actions
b) not letting other people berate me for them. i mean fuck, i know what i'm doing with myself, thanks. everyone makes poor choices. just some people are willing to admit that it wasn't entirely by accident.
actually, i just have so many things to sort out.... criiiinnnggge. i'd much rather be spending quality time with people. and i have plans to do exactly that! haha. i have a math exam. monday. after this i will never have to write another math test for my whole life... well, maybe lol.

life is too real for a blog.
i am so, so glad for meeting with abbey tonight. i can't imagine who else i'd be able to talk about this with. to be perfectly honest, i wasn't even planning on discussing it. i was planning on carrying it around like my own personal load of blistering bricks.
my logical mind insists that i don't expect you to come and find me anymore. you insist otherwise.
this is ca- razy!
i'm subconciously compiling lists of songs that stir up bits of truth and of stories and movies with characters like me or like us, and i'm using it as justification. this is the way things are. that is how we are. that is what i don't want to be. this is what i've done. that is what i don't want to be. perhaps eventually i'll even write it down, or make a cd and have something for the sudden unexpected bursts of unhappy.

9 hours

someone should write a short story about not having any real thoughts at all.
"what are you thinking?"
"nothing."
"come on, what?"
no, seriously. nothing.
this story should also involve not being able to stay awake while reading a story, waking up in a chair to a cat staring at you, having appeared at your feet. it should also involve several new ways of interacting with people, because i like to have references for the way i do things, otherwise i cannot justify them. also sandwiches. my house is empty and i am freezing to death.
i had a dream while i was trying to read that i was standing on the side of the road. I must've been doing something I shouldn't have been doing, because cars were driving by and i was waiting for a reaction from one of them. then an older man with all very white hair and plaid drove by and threw a piece of garbage at me. and i woke up.
there were so many things i didn't vocalize yesterday-
how can i avoid you when there are so many pennies?
my own perception is slipping out of my control. i am myself and you are very specifically you. but now things are starting to blur and i feel like we're very slowly changing skins, to two different people who didn't know each other before November. which is no good. when i woke up today i took a moment to remember the specific feeling of the way we were, which was good. i need to be thinking in big picture, here. things are so easily reduced to spurts of a few days, or even just a few hours with you.
do i like waking up with anybody or specifically with you? no, wrong question. we, each other.
eugh. it shouldn't be this mindlessly impossible to maintain a certain level of clarity in the various aspects of life.

sunday nights

so it's about 12.15 right now, and I'm supposed to be working on art but I seriously, seriously needed a sandwich. the pork I'm using is supposed to be for tomorrow's lunch, but I think there'll be enough. the point is, it's super late, I'm supposed to be making art, no one is up and I'm dancing around my kitchen cringing because even though I cannot STAND to cut white onions, we have no red onions and I can't eat a sandwich without them! unless it's like, peanut butter or banana or something... my finger hurts from the onion because i have a papercut. I'm wearing a hoodie and boxers and tube socks. i don't like going out. i like staying in; I feel as though I could be someone's short story. ode to a seventeen year old girl romanticizes the age of seventeen...
park that car
drop that phone
sleep on the floor
dream about me
maybe i missed something about seventeen, but to be honest i think i learned my lesson at sixteen. i just do not have the time! but now i am eighteen, so i have to figure out what the romanticized view of my current age is. otherwise how will i know what to live up to? hahaha.
i. adore. cat. stevens.
'i listen to the wind, to the wind of my soul
where i'll end up, well i think only God really knows
I've sat upon the setting sun
and i've never wanted water once
no never never never never never...'
to be honest, i didn't think you noticed. at all. and so now i am prompted to write. this PostSecret book was so full of things i could've said to other people, so much more than the others! i wanted to cut them out and frame them and give them as gifts. i wanted to tell you how disheartening it was waking up without you!
i always worry that someday arielle will get on a bus and go away. but then she says things that remind me how tied we are to each other. it's one of those things where there just is no replacement.

no!

sooo, i never blog. unfortunate? NO. i'm not good at making my life sound pretty. i don't have a encompassing opinion on the way everything in my life is going at any given time. mostly i just try not to completely blow everything... like tomorrow, i just hope i get about 60 on the replacement math test so i can replace my 44. ouch. i will not let art school be an excuse for lowering my academic standards! i miss hannah, she kept me in line. her excessive crazy translated into a slightly more diluted crazy in myself. and also, i just miss hannah. i'm never really around at school. she has a boy. it's unfortunate.
i'm tired. i'm worried about abbey. and hayley. and the way i relate to my mother. and about math. courses courses courses. i just want to be taking something else, already!
today i had an overwhelming desire for tempura. so i called my mom when i got home, and i was all: "JAPANESE FOOD?!" and she was all "dinner plans." so i ended up eating miniature meatballs, 3/4 f a grapefruit, 1/4 of one of those frozen pizzas we got from band (SO GROSS) and half a thing of french fries. the remaining fractions of my food were consumed by Jamie.
today Billy said the best thing EVER: "face lick, nipple pinch, BOOB PUNCH."
exact words. i would not joke.