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julie



Last Updated: 12/16/2008

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Gender: Female
Status: Single
Age: 22
Sign: Taurus

State: Connecticut
Country: US
Signup Date: 5/22/2005

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Wednesday, April 18, 2007 

Current mood:  blank

okay, so....this is my first draft of the story i just finished for creative writing. it hasn't been worshopped yet, so its FAR from perfect. my roommates helped me with so much of it, and we've been really amused by it for the past few days, so i thought that i'd share it with all of you lovely people. if you read it, please be nice and comment. i don't usually expect people to do that, but when it's something like this i like to know who's seen it so that i can get feedback if i need it. hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful wonderful day (since its 12:44am)
aurevoir mes cheris! =)

ps: i apologize for the stupid white space, i'm too lazy to go through and delete them all. it's too long, and it's just how it pasted on here. stupid.


Everything's Falling

   A light wind blew, rustling the changing leaves of late August. There were more people than usual in Central Park today taking advantage of the cool summer day. A family of four played with their new puppy, tossing the ball for it to retrieve. It stumbled over it's legs as it ran, making the children giggle.. A boy in his early twenties sat under the shade of the weeping cherry tree on the East side, strumming on his guitar. A younger girl aimed a high-tech zoom lens camera at the foliage above a couple.
            "Lex, I just love being home," Brent said to his girlfriend.

            Alexa squeezed Brent's hand. "Well, we love having you home. But it's your life. There's nothing you can do about it."

            "I know. And sometimes I wonder, is that really how I want to live my life?"

            "What do you mean?"

            "I don't know. It's just that when I have the opportunity to come home, even for a day, it makes me realize how much I took it for granted. I miss it. I miss spending everyday with you. And being home for my mom's home cooked dinner. And actually seeing my family on holidays. It just, sucks."

            "Brent, you love what you do. You live for music. It's a small price to pay for being in the place that you are. You guys worked so hard to get to the point you're at right now." She stopped walking, and turned to face her boyfriend. "People all over the country love you. It's your dream. You are living your dream. Do you know how many people never get to do that?"

            Brent sighed. He knew she was right, but that didn't change how he felt. "I miss being normal. I'm surprised I've gotten through a walk in the park without someone taking my picture or asking for my autograph."

            Alexa pulled her boyfriend close. "I know, but what are you saying? Is there something you can even do about it?"

            "I've been thinking about it for awhile, Lex. I just never said anything because I feel guilty about it. I just don't think that I can be apart of the band anymore. It's sucking everything out of me. It's not the life I want to live."

            "Really, Brent? Are you really sure about it? You're going to affect a whole lot of people with your decision."

            He kissed her forehead. "I'm sure babe. I'm just not so sure on how to tell the guys."

            "Well," Alexa said, looking at her watch. "You better figure it out, because we should start walking to the theater now. You gotta be there in half an hour."

--- 

            Wes sat on the 7 subway from his home in Queens. Excitement surged inside of him. He was on route to what could be the best show he had ever been a part of. There was nothing like playing a home show. The energy of a crowd that has been there through everything gives off the best kind of high. And to top it off, it was the last show of their tour. They were ending it with a bang at the Nokia Theater, one of the best venues in Manhattan, and he couldn't wait.

            As an instinct, he drummed on his knee and bobbed his head, playing through their set list. The three days off had been great, but he couldn't wait to get back to it. He hadn't seen any of the guys, and he was sure they had so much to catch up on.

            When the subway pulled into Grand Central, he grabbed onto the bar above his head and pulled himself up. He bounded out of the train, up the stairs, and towards the busy streets of Manhattan. He turned the corner out of the door fast and in his excitement ran straight into a girl about 15, wearing a bright green shirt.

            "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," Wes said, grabbing her shoulder to steady her.

            "It's okay," she said smiling at him. "Don't worry about it. I'm fine."

            He waved, and slowed down to a walk towards the venue.

 ---

            "Wes is never going to speak to us again," Zack said. He took a bite of his sandwich and chewed, waiting for his bandmate's response.

            "I know," Nate said. "I feel like a sneaky bastard."

            "Well, you are. So am I."

            Nate nodded. "There's nothing we can do about it though, man. It's just, not us anymore. We're going somewhere else."

            "I know we have to do it, but it sucks we have to betray our best friends because of it."

            "It'll take them sometime, but I think they'll understand it."

            All of the tables inside the Quiznos where the two sat having their lunch were full, but Zack was more concerned with the line of people across the street. At least fifty girls were already standing outside of the venue they were performing at tonight, and it was over six hours before the doors would open. "Look at them all," he said, gesturing out the window. "They're all there for us. We're betraying them, too. Do you think they'll understand?"

            "Probaby not," Nate said. "But within a month another pop rock band will have taken over, and most of them'll forget all about us."

            "And some of them will stay with us."

            "Absolutely. Man, you know bands split all the time and start their own things. The diehards will never leave our sides."

            Zack took another bite of his sandwich. "What do you think Brent's gonna say?" A little piece of lettuce shot out of his mouth and landed on the table. He grabbed a napkin, wiped it up, and shoved it behind the napkin holder.

            "Nice," Nate said. "Honestly, I think Brent will be relieved. He's gonna be happy he gets to see the woman more often."

            "You think he wants out, too?" Zack couldn't believe it.

            "I don't know. I don't think he'd ever admit it to anyone, but I think he won't be upset."

            "Hm, I don't know."

            "He's gonna play drama queen like he always does. He'll pretend he's heartbroken, beg us to stay, and then go home and have sex with his girl without looking back."

            Zack laughed. "I hope you're right. You sure you wanna tell them tonight?"

            "Yeah." Nate took the last bite of his sandwich. "Tonight is going to be great man. Our last hurrah."

            "Yeah," Zack said. He noticed two girls wandering around the seating area with their trays, searching for an empty spot. He stood up. "Hey," he said to them. "You guys can sit here. We're done."

            "Thanks," the brunette said to them. "We appreciate it."

            "No problem," Nate said, picking up his tray. "Have a nice day ladies."

            The blonde giggled. "You too."

 

            "That was fucking unbelievable," Wes said. He put his hands on the back of Brent's shoulders and pounded. "Amazing."

            "Yeah," Brent said. He couldn't argue that it was the best show they'd ever played, but he also couldn't shake the feeling of uneasiness that swirled inside of him. He was not looking forwards to having the talk with the guys.

            "Here she comes," Zack said, pointing to Alexa who was running up to them at full speed.

            "Brace yourselves boys," Nate said.

            "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Guys. That was amazing. I've never seen anything like it." Alexa jumped on Brent and wrapped her legs around him. She kissed him. "It was amazing."

            "Thanks baby," Brent said. "It was pretty rad."

            "Still feeling the same way?" She was so close, that when she spoke her breath tickled his earlobe. He nodded at her, but said nothing. She jumped off of him. "I'm gonna go mingle with some of the people I recognized in the crowd. You boys do your thing." She hugged each of the other guys, and blew Brent a kiss.

            "She's a piece of work, man," Wes said, patting Brent on the back.

            "Yeah she is," he said.

            Zack noticed his tone. "What's up dude? Everything okay?"

            "Oh, yeah. I just," he hesitated for a moment. "I just really need to talk to you guys. I have something to get off my chest."

            Zack and Nate exchanged glances. "I think we all have something to talk about," Nate said.

            "I don't," Wes said, looking at the other guys. His words were quiet as his stomach turned over and the rush of the show disappeared. After traveling with these guys for almost three years, he could tell when something was wrong.

 ---

            Brent grabbed a water bottle from the cooler that the venue provided for them, and looked around. Their dressing room was small, there was no where to run to after he dropped the news. He noticed a poster on the wall behind the cooler. It was for their show tonight. The picture that the publicist had chosen make them look so happy. At that time, they probably were. He ripped it off the wall and the room went silent. He turned around to see his 3 bandmates and best friends staring at him.

            "What'd you do that for?" Wes said, breaking the silence.

            Brent took a deep breath. "I want you guys to know that I love you. Really, I don't say it enough. You are my best friends. I never want to lose that."

            "We love you too man," Nate said. He placed his hand on Zack's shoulder and squeezed. Maybe they wouldn't have to be the ones to break the news after all. "But what are you getting at?"

            "I'm not happy anymore. This isn't how I want to live my life." No one said a word. Wes put his face in his hands and walked over to the couch. He plopped down and looked up at Brent, searching for a reason. Brent walked over and sat down next to him. He spoke directly to Wes. "I had so much fun while it lasted. We had some great times guys. Like, tonight was phenomenal. But, I can't do it anymore. It's draining the life out of me. I want to be something else."

            Wes nodded in disbelief. "So, you're saying…no more band?"

            Brent looked up at Nate and Zack, hoping for reassurance. They came and sat cross legged on the floor in front of the couch. "I'm saying, no more band for me. I don't know what you guys are doing. I don't expect you not to replace me. And don't think for a second that I won't be your number one fan."

            Wes looked at Nate and Zack, who looked at each other. Someone had to say something.

            "Actually," Zack said. "Nate and I have been talking…" he stopped, waiting for Nate to back him up.

            "And we were thinking along the same lines. I mean, kinda."

            "Oh my god," Wes said.

            "Dude, we're not ganging up on you. It's not you," Nate said. He felt terrible. He knew how much the band meant to Wes. He had kept them together for this long.

            "Oh my god." Wes looked back and fourth at his three friends and ex-bandmates, in disbelief. He had no other words.

            "Wait, so, what do you guys mean by kinda?" Brent said. He was curious and surprised that the others were feeling the same way.

            "We just, aren't feeling the music anymore," Zack said.

            Nate nodded. "We've been working on some things kinda secretly. Gosh, it sounds awful to say out loud."

            "Yeah, it really does, but it's not like that. We were just waiting for the right time to tell you."

            "Which we just happened to decide was tonight."

            "And then ol' Brenty boy here had to go and steal the spotlight as usual," Zack said, as he playfully slapped Brent on the chest.

            "Oh, sorry man," Brent said. He was relieved. Zack and Nate had made this a lot easier on him than he thought it would. "You guys are sneaky bastards."

            Zack pointed at Nate. "That's what he said!" The three laughed together, but Wes hadn't said a word.

            "Can you say something dude?" Brent said, looking at Wes. "You're making me nervous."

            "I just, don't…I don't get it," Wes said, shaking his head. "I thought we were all so happy doing this."

            "We were while it lasted," Zack said, "but things change."

            "Not for me. I'm not done. And neither are the hundreds of people that came to see us tonight. What about them? Did you even think about them for a second?" His voice was shaking as he spoke.

            "We did," Nate said. "A lot. But it's not fair to the fans if we're all not truly into it, either. We won't be what they expect."

            "That's true," Brent said. "Wes, think about all we've accomplished. We did so much, we saw so much. It's just time to let it go."

            "Whatever," Wes said. He stood up, and grabbed his coat. "Can you guys pack up my stuff for me? I need to take a walk. That's the least you can do."

            "Where are you going?" Nate said. "We need to figure out how we're going to break the news."

            "I want nothing to do with breaking the news. It's not my decision. You guys deal with it." He walked out of the dressing room, and straight out of the back door to the venue.

            About ten girls stood outside waiting for the band, and when Wes walked out they all came towards him. He put up his hand. "Girls, look. I'm sorry, but I'm not in the mood right now. I don't mean to be a jerk, but I just need to be alone right now. I hope you enjoyed the show."

            Some of the girls nodded. Some of their faces twisted in insult. But no one said anything. And for the first time, Wes didn't care.

 ---

            Lora sat in front of her television, clenching the remote tightly between the palms of her hands. She channeled her energy forward, her eyes fixed on the screen, waiting impatiently for the commercial to be over.

            She squealed in excitement along with the cheering fans in the studio when the TRL logo appeared. She would have given anything to be there right now.

            "We're joined here today by one of the most quickly rising bands, Everything's Falling, as they retire their video for their most recent single "Shattered." We've also been told that they have a very important exclusive announcement for us. Please welcome Brent, Zack, Wes, and Nate, ladies and gentlemen, Everything's Falling!" The VJ, Damien's, voice poured out of the speakers.

            The camera panned over the crowd before focusing on where the band was entering the studio. Everyone cheered. Lora didn't move a muscle except to breathe on her couch at home.

            "Welcome boys," Damien said into the microphone. "It hasn't been too long since you were last here, has it?"

            "No, I think we were here about 4 months ago, in May, right?" Zack said, looking at his bandmates to clarify.

            "Yeah that sounds about right. Madonna was here, that's all I remember," Brent said. He laughed.

            "Man, Madonna is hot," Zack said, agreeing with him.

            "You guys would remember something like that," Damien said, joking back. "So guys, I hear you have some kind of exciting news for the public today."

            "Yeah," Nate said. "We do. We figured, what better place to announce something than on TRL with like 50 million people watching."

            "I don't know about 50 million, Nate." Damien laughed. Lora cracked a smile. He was so cute. "So, are you gonna give it to us now, or hold us in suspense."

            The band looked at one another. Brent shrugged. "Now's fine."

            "Okay," Damien said. "Let's have it."

            "Go ahead, Wes," Zack said, putting his hand on his back. "You deserve it."

            Lora shifted. She couldn't imagine what they had to say, and she was ready to hear it.

            "Well," Wes said. He took a deep breath. "We've decided, with a lot of thought, that we're not going to continue together as a band any longer."

            The TRL studio was silent. Lora stopped breathing for a moment, before a tear rolled down her cheek.

            "Are you serious?" Damien said, surprised.

            "Yeah," Brent said. "It's true. These two are going to most likely be going off and starting some other huge band that will be 10 times better than us." He pointed at Zack and Nate, who nodded.

            "We hope to even come close to what we've accomplished together," Nate said. "And Brenty over here is going back to school. For journalism, no less."

            "Funny," Brent said, "It'll be good to be on the other side of the tracks. A different perspective."

            "Wow," Damien said. "I'm shocked. I, don't know what to say."

            Lora had heard enough. She turned off the TV and threw the remote as hard as she could at the screen. She let out a huge scream of frustration and ran into her room.

            She rummaged through her closet underneath a mess of dirty clothes and slip on sneakers for a shoebox covered in stickers and glitter glue. When she found it, she opened it. She stared into the box for a minute, her brown hair falling in front of her face. She walked over to her desk, grabbed a pair of scissors, and sat down in the middle of her room.

            First, she took out a stack of pictures. She looked at them, reminiscing for a moment. Brent looked worried as he talked with his girlfriend. The trees above his head were casting such wonderful shadows across his face, and she wished that he had known she was taking pictures of him so that he could have smiled.

            "Jerk," Lora said as she took the scissors to the picture and cut Brent out.

            She moved on to a bright green shirt. She held it up to her face and breathed in deeply. She swore that she could still smell Wes on every inch of that t-shirt. Huge tears began to fall from her eyes. She couldn't control it. She stood up and opened her bedroom window. She tossed the shirt out of it, and watched as it fell 13 stories down to the sidewalk of Park Avenue. She turned her back on it with no remorse.

            Lora was crying so hard that tears blurred her vision. Snot ran from her nose. She walked back to the box and took out a crumpled Quizno's napkin. She removed a dried piece of lettuce from the inside. Then, she blew her nose and threw it in the garbage along with her last memory of Everything's Falling.

Currently listening:
Affirmation
By Savage Garden
Release date: 09 November, 1999
Wednesday, April 11, 2007 

Current mood:  tired
it's past 1am, and i told myself i was going to sleep at 11.

i don't know how it happened, but i somehow got distracted by myspace - which by the way up until recently i tried to spend as little time as possible on - so long that i wasted 2 perfect hours of sleep.

and what do i have to show for it? nothing but this EFFING blog and a the fact that i found like 2343098423 random people i didn't know had myspace just by clicking aimlessly around.

i'm cranky because i'm tired. so really after i post what music i'm listening to (because you all should listen to it too) i am going to bed. for real this time. no jokes, because i'm not funny, anyway.
Currently listening:
A Different Light
By Sherwood
Release date: 13 March, 2007
Thursday, February 08, 2007 

Current mood:  busy
a short story assignment for creative writing. i kinda like it, kinda don't, but i just feel like sharing it with all of you...let me know what you think if you have time to read it. :)

Apples

It was my first year, my first day, and I was absolutely mortified. Up until that point I felt I was prepared, but as the twenty-one unfamiliar faces filed into my classroom at eight in the morning, I wasn't so sure. As the students finally got settled in their seats, I took a deep breath and began taking care of the usual first-day paperwork: attendance, trite introductions, and a summary of my expectations for the class. My goal for the year was not to be anyone's enemy, but a friend whom they respected.
                I prepared a small assignment in order to get a feel for each of the student's writing style. As I passed the assignment sheet around a chorus of groans, sighs, and rolling eyes assaulted me. I felt discouraged, but if I backed down at that moment I would have given the students free license to walk all over me.
            "I know it's the first day, and no one wants homework right away, but please bear with me. I want this assignment to be fun," I announced in retaliation. "It's just my way of getting to know each of you a little better. All I want you to do is write a letter to the person who inspires you the most. It could be anyone. A best friend, a family member, anyone in the media. You have free range to choose your person, but your letter has to be at least a page long, single spaced, where you explain to the person what you find so special about them." I paused, waiting for a reaction of any kind. Their eyes stared back at me, unmoving, like stars in a dark winter sky. A light bulb went off above my head. "And I'll be offering extra credit to those of you brave enough to send your letter to your inspiration, and get a reply." Small smiles parted the lips of some students, giving away their secret of being the overachievers. One student, who had identified himself earlier as Hamilton Baker, quietly frowned and placed his head down on his desk. It crossed my mind to question his anxiety, but I quickly dismissed it. It was far too early in the year to dig into the minds of my students.

When the due date for the letters was upon us, I had only twenty pieces of paper in my hand. I couldn't be sure without checking off names, but I had a feeling that I knew whose assignment was missing. All of the students had become very enthusiastic about my class. They were all warming up to the idea of having me as their sophomore English teacher, and that was very comforting to me. All but one: Hamilton Baker.
                Hamilton drifted in and out of my classroom like a ghost, hoping that no one would notice him. He was fabulous at being invisible to his peers; he sat in the back corner of the classroom, made no eye contact, and spoke to absolutely no one. I noticed him, though. His meekness attracted me to him, and my curiosity got the best of me. I stopped him this day, on his way out of the classroom.
            "Hamilton, may I see you for a moment?" He stared at me with that deer-in-headlights type look. "Don't worry," I tried my best to smile, "you're not in trouble." Reluctantly, he drew back into the classroom, watching me, waiting for my words, as if he knew what I was about to say. "Did you turn in a letter Hamilton?"
            "No," he replied shortly.
            "Do you have a reason for not doing the assignment?"
            "Yes."
            "And what is that?"
            "I have no heroes."
            "Don't be silly Hamilton, you must have a hero. What about your family members?" As the words slipped from my mouth, I instantly knew that I had shown my inexperience as a teacher. I had absolutely no right to assume that Hamilton had an idyllic family life.
            "I don't have family." His answers were so cold, so emotionless that it frustrated me.
           "Hamilton, I'm going out on a limb here, but would you like to come spend your lunch hour with me here in the room? I think we could be friends, if you want that. Can we be friends?"
            His eyes widened, as if he'd never heard the word "friend" before in his lifetime. "We can't be friends. You're my teacher. Why would you want to be friends with me, anyway?"
            "You just seem like a person worth knowing." I didn't want to push him any further than he wanted to go. "Well, if you change your mind my door will be open. You can go now if you'd like."
            "I'm not in trouble for not doing my letter?"
            The letter. I had forgotten all about it. "Consider it an extension. As soon as you find your inspiration I expect that letter on my desk immediately."
            He nodded while he walked, already on his way out the door.

 
        That same day at lunchtime my door opened slowly, and to my surprise, Hamilton peaked his head in. "Is the offer still standing?" he asked, almost in a whisper.
        Excitement flooded me, which I am sure was apparent. "Absolutely. Pull that chair over," I said, pointing to the lone chair in the room that did not have a desk or wheels attached. I made room on my desk for Hamilton to put his lunch down on my desk.
            "That's okay," he said softly. "I don't have any lunch."
            His bluntness caught me off guard. "Want an apple? I brought an extra," I lied. I had been looking forward to that apple since I packed my lunch this morning, but it seemed to me that Hamilton needed it more than I did.
            "Sure," he said taking the apple from me. "Thanks." He already seemed more friendly to me than he had only hours before. I wondered how it could have been this easy to get through to him. Maybe he just needed someone to reach out to him. We didn't talk about anything of importance that day, but in the days that followed he continued to join me for lunch, and every day I brought him an apple. Within only a short month, I knew Hamilton inside and out. I knew his anger towards his parents for their divorce: they made him choose. I knew the hurt he felt for being an outsider, and why he felt that it was necessary to keep himself that way: for balance. My lunch dates with Hamilton didn't change the way he acted towards me in the classroom, but it was behind the scenes that mattered most to me. His trust in me made me feel that I had already made the difference that I wanted to as a teacher.
 

It was the day that my first-quarter grades were due to the main office, and I still had not received Hamilton's first assignment. I could not finish the grades without it, but I had promised him that I would give him time to choose his hero wisely. With impeccable timing, Hamilton attended our lunch with an envelope in hand.
            "What's this?" I asked as he handed it to me, as if I didn't know.
            "My hero letter. Don't read it until later, okay?"
            "Okay," I promised, unknowingly.

 Later that night while I was cleaning up from my dinner, I remembered Hamilton's letter. It had been pushed to the back to my mind with all of the things I had to get done during the day. I searched in my bag for the envelope and opened it.

Miss Friedman –

I apologize for how long it took me to do my assignment. It was hard for me to pick someone that truly inspires me, and to be honest, up until the due date of the assignment, there was truly no one who made a single bit of difference in my life. And then, you reached out to me. I wish that I could express to you in spoken words how much that really meant to me. I have never had anyone make me feel that I was worth an ounce of time, and you have given me hours of yours. There have been times in the past where I have seriously contemplating ending my life, for I had nothing to live for. I had no friends, my family had more or less given up on me, and I had no idea where my life is going. But you, Miss Friedman, you give me hope. Your small gesture brought meaning to my life, and I lived for our talks during lunch period. They may have been insignificant to you, but they meant the world to me. You have really become and inspiration to me. I have a confession to make to you. I wish I could have been brave and up front with you, but today was my last day in class. My mother is leaving the state, and of course, I must go with her. It hurts to say goodbye to you, especially on paper,but know this: you have changed me. I am starting a new life in a new school. No one knows me there, Miss Friedman. I can be someone that I couldn't be here, thanks to you, and it actually excites me. It is my promise to you that I will make the best of the gifts you have given me.  And, best of all, I've decided to become an English teacher.

                                                                       

                                        Thanks for everything you have done for me, with love,

                                                                                                                        Hamilton Baker
 

                Tears streamed down the side of my face as I finished the last line of his beautiful letter. I will not forget a single face of my students during my first year teaching. The lessons that I was taught by the countless others that followed will stay with me forever, but not one person would ever teach me to appreciate my life and my career like Hamilton Baker.


c'est fini! :)
Currently listening:
Infinity on High
By Fall Out Boy
Release date: 06 February, 2007
Wednesday, February 07, 2007 

Current mood:  cheerful
a sporatic stream of conciousness. a wandering, contradicting mess:

i get these anxious, throbbing feelings sometimes in the very pit of my stomach. and it hurts. i want to scream, but my body won't allow it. tonight i searched helplessly for the meaning behind it, and found nothing more than a cobweb hanging on my frontal lobe. figures. that's always how it happens. you never find anything until you've given up hope on finding it. that's so trite. then again, life is trite, too. it's a series of events that repeat themselves in different moderations. i wonder...if we used our brains to the potential that they are able to process information...could we trace these repetitions like Fibbonacci numbers or growth spurts in toddlers? if we could follow our misfortunes i suppose that we would rob life of the thrill entirely. and then where would we all be? leading cold, meaningless lives as many people willingly sacrifice themselves dodaily. would there be any difference? for me there would - i long to be something more than another face in the crowd. i want to make a difference to someone. but, not just anyone - someone who makes a difference to me. someone who can take the dull light of my soul and illuminate it with such grandeur that it over takes every other part of me from time to time. it wouldn't be so bad to be a light. i'd be able to see everything. things that normal eyes can not have the pleasure o noticing. the small imperfections that are not recognized by the regular pasesrby with no time for the minute details, the beautiful splendor of human existence. i long to believe that every person has their meaning and purpose in life - but what is mine? i have not found an ounce of purpose in the meandering days that are worth a third, even second subtle glance. and there i find myself, guilty, as of course there has been meaning to my life so far. there has been beauty, in quantities that no person besides myself could ever begin to master. and i feel sorry for all of you poor bastards out there who have yet to experience it as well.
Currently listening:
Everything in Transit
By Jack's Mannequin
Release date: 23 August, 2005
Friday, February 02, 2007 

Current mood:  contemplative
i'm bobbing my head to head automatica as we speak, trying helplessly to learn to words pre the jack's mannequin concert in 2 1/2 weeks. for some reason i just find concerts to be a tad more enjoyable than usual when i know the bands who are playing all very well. i think it's easier to enjoy when you're not focusing on "do i like these people, or not?" well, it's 15 days until the kick off of the wonderful week of concerts. cute, all time low, this providence, dave melillo, jack's mannequin, head automatica, the matches, and my chemical romance all in 1 week. i'm afraid of an overload, but i think i can handle it. at least i hope i can.

i'm feeling quite emo today, as i woke up later than i was planning on, and the apartment is empty. i hate being alone. it leaves room for the true lonliness that i feel constantly to sink in and take it's course upon me. i've been very nostalgic this past week, having talks with both bart and joe about the good old days and how much they are missed. i have a plan for a project. i hope it all works out fine.

yesterday i lost my ATM card. just an addition to the list of things that i've lost that are quite important. i kicked myself down for awhile after i realized it, because i'm just sick of never being organized and losing everything. but then julia, matty and i pigged out and i felt a little better. i suppose that's not a really good way to make myself feel better. i should probably look into a better antidote, but alas, it was my only option at that moment and it was an instant fix.

tonight just didn't go well at all. it was series of one bad thing after another. we tried to go play pool and we got lost, then we got on the wrong way on the highway, then we couldn't get into the pool hall because it was 21+ only. then we came back and we were gonna drink and i just kinda started feeling sorry for myself and didn't want to. no one else did either. it was lame. i was excited to play pool.

my classes are kicking my ass this semester, but it's making me feel good about myself because i'm actually getting shit done. i don't feel ike i'm wasting my life. which is something positive, at least.

well, whatever. i'm going to shower and stop being depressing. <3.
Currently listening:
Popaganda
By Head Automatica
Release date: 06 June, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006 

Current mood:  cranky
so - under the circumstances of today one would think that i'd be in a good mood. perhaps it is somewhat attributed to the fact that i'm just BLAH, or maybe i slept too long. maybe i'm sick of doing what everyone else wants me to do, and never having anything go my way. whatever it is, we didn't have class today because some stupid squirrel got fried in the generator and we lost power from about 1am last night until around 1pm this afternoon.

and so it goes that the matches concert at the avalon was last night. as much as i adore them with every ounce of my soul i refuse to ever 1. go when they aren't headlining or 2. go without melissa or marissa. it was the lamest thing i've ever experienced in my life. no one appreciated them for the wonderful, unique people that they are. those freaking +44 fans were all like "who are these lame freaks?" at one point i actually heard a kid ask his friend who was opening. his friend responded as so: "the matches, they suck, that's why they're OPENING." if it weren't for the happy feeling i had in my stomach 2 minute prior to showtime i would have pummled his unappreciative ass onto the ground in hopes that someone stepped on him and broke his nose. i suppose i have no right to get angry, because there are bands that i have heard that i don't like - and i'm sure their fans wouldn't understand why i don't like them...but, i don't know. it's just not what i'm used to. last time everyone was all "WOO! PLAY JACK SLAP CHEER!" and now everyone was like "GET OFF THE STAGE WHERE'S +44!?!" bleh.

anyway, i brought shawn still life with woodpecker in hopes that he could appreciate my favorite book. he was very excited that i brought him a book and asked for my email so he could let me know what he thought. i found that to be...weird, but who am i to complain? i missed the acoustic performance of eryn smith because he told me they'd do it 30 minutes after the show so i went to get coffee. 20 minutes later when we returned they were already finished. extreme disappointment flooded my body. perhaps i almost shed a tear. however, they are coming back in february to HEADLINE their own tour and i will be there.

today bec, tina, and i went in search of cotillion dresses. perhaps that also depressed me, as nothing was even remotely thrilling. cotillion is less than 2 weeks away and i have nothing to wear. grand. maybe i just won't go. (yeah, right.)

on a more happy note - the rave on saturday went marvafantastical. everyone was wonderfully buzzed but no one got sick. there was limited drama, and we had some wonderful guests to share our time with us. it made me happy, and it was a great success.

i shall retire. maybe curl up on the couch with some tea and watch a movie with becs if she shall have it.

is it bad that the more i listen to the matches the more angry i get at the world for not appreciating them? then...i remember, there was a short time when i didn't as well. perhaps it is my job to convince the world otherwise? ha.

aurevoir mes amis.


Currently listening:
Decomposer
By The Matches
Release date: 12 September, 2006
Sunday, June 18, 2006 
seriously, i'm not going to lie....i've never in my life been so tired. i don't understand why this fucking job is effecting my so much. it's ridiculous. all i want to do is sleep. i feel like such a bum. like jason woke me up at 10:45 this morning when he got here for brunch and i swear i felt like i hadn't even gone to sleep. i'm starting to wonder if it's worth it.

and then i think: car...car...$117 a night...car....

yep, worth it.

oh, and by the way. i'm never drinking again because apparently i can't handle it anymore. that's all i have to say about that and has anyone found my glasses? i miss placed them...they're probably in joe's car.
Friday, June 16, 2006 

Current mood:  blah
i've never done this before. i feel like a loser for doing it even once, since i despise myspace with every ounce of my soul. i just got angry because melissa changed my profile song to some ridiculous booty booty rap shit and so i needed to find a new song to replace it....then i saw how empty my profile looked from the problem i had a few days ago when i got angry at myspace and deleted everything.

gee, i guess i should work on my anger management problems. i just spent like 4 hours at bart's talking about life. it was interesting, but now its 3:30 in the morning and i have just gotten home. which means i'm going to sleep until 2 again and it's just going to be this vicious cycle of me being a waste of life this summer...except for the fact that i'm making $100 a night.

only $1,890 to go until my parents let me get my car. :) woo!

yes...so, that is my life. even though i suck at it.