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| City Lights |
| 05.27.04 (11:00 am) [edit] |
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There are going to be two full moons in July. I think that's pretty awesome.
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| Sol Disco Fever Live |
| 05.26.04 (10:18 pm) [edit] |
I swear I'm going to bed now. I would've gone crazy if I didn't get to ramble my brains out before going to bed, and all would have been worse, because I don't like going to bed with things swimming around in my head. It's... very... unpleasant. You know what I mean.
Doctor mandates that I stay home until Friday! Joy. Four days of fever, missing one test, one lab, and an important presentation I've worked on the entire school year that my high school graduation depends on. Friends are screaming about how they passed (other friends are in tears because they failed). I get an extra few days to be anxious, they'll probably reschedule me with the people who failed. Great timing for a fever.
World peace, and stealing that line from Ryan Seacrest, "Haku out!"
I'm so glad Fantasia won! I'd be scared of seeing another 16-year-old Hilary Duff (only, Diana can actually sing really good). I mean, I just wonder what she'd sing about if she actually scored a recording contract. "Sweet sixteen! Party up! Let the boys come and get me! I'm a growing girl!" I hope they don't pull the Disney thing on her. (Not that I can comment much on age, I'm only 17.) And they probably won't. But she's not Christina Augilera. In my opinion, she's just a super talented singer who sounds like a lot of other really good singers out there. Not saying she didn't deserve to win, but she doesn't stand out to ME. I don't know what she's been through in her life, but Fantasia appears to have more life experience to be able to sing and really understand what she's singing about... I mean, she's 19 and she's a mother. I really like Fantasia's personality though, Diana was just too... perky. Fantasia was like, savvy. And her voice is awesome and unique.
Anyway, NOW I will go to bed.
Night everyone.
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| Beauty Before Brains |
| 05.26.04 (10:08 pm) [edit] |
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And then I must ask myself, why do I CARE! I don't care that much! I feel so superficial, and it's an icky feeling! I'm not superficial!
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| Squealing With Manliness |
| 05.26.04 (9:51 pm) [edit] |
I used to be afraid that I was too ugly and not feminine enough many years ago, because I was never up in the latest trends, I never had cool clothes I was comfortable with, I never wore make-up, I ate much faster, all that good stuff... Whenever I looked at my own face in pictures I'd envision myself as a boy and shudder, because that's what I feared. But being an adolescent I didn't think much of it, because when you're young people tell you what to do, and you just do it and accept what they have to say. Like so, I accepted what I looked like, and how odd my taste in crap was, etc.
(And one of the more popular chics kept hinting that I looked like a boy throughout the school year. That Final Fantasy VIII freak! Spread the intellect - spread the Zelda!)
Anyway now that I think about it I've become really girly and sometimes it makes me wonder. I squeak when poked, I run like a spazzed out girl, I jump when something sudden happens in a scary movie, my foot went up once when Frank kissed me (and the creepy thing is, it was a natural reaction), I acknowledge that pink is actually a part of the color spectrum, I hate bugs and things that crawl (but I'm not squirmy), I'm emotional and sensitive, physically frail, and... not the most fun person to be around, heh heh.
Then somebody says, "You do (this and that) like a girl."
"Ummm... I am a girl!"
Sometimes that bums me out a lot though. Wish I could be somebody more outgoing, somebody a little more rough and bold, someone more confident and awesome to be around. Insert: So what does he see in me? Sometimes it feels like he needs the opposite.
Must be something.
Somebody once told me, "Your boyfriend/girlfriend is going to be the opposite of your friends." I wonder if that's true.
Buuuut what can I do, this is who I am.
Insert photograph which I have randomly been posting around. Don't like it? Get the fuck away from my blog.
![]() =http://img21.photobucket.com/...
Much love to zeh Jeris.
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| Once Upon A Time |
| 05.26.04 (9:24 pm) [edit] |
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My perfection is based upon my standards. My fairytale is what I make it to be... What is the difference between a real fairytale and an illusion? Does it really matter to me? Subject. Fight it. Let it go and live the bliss. All in the eye of the beholder. I believe.
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| To Live My Lies |
| 05.26.04 (9:10 pm) [edit] |
Say you believe in something. But that something is a lie. To erase. To remember. To murder.
When nothing is what you expect, and things happen when you least expect them, you wonder what will happen to what you deem as truth.
To gain. To deny. To kill.
What if you pledged your faith to what you believed was God... What would you think if you lost all you had? There may be a reason, but the heart is blind to reason when hysterical. Why it. Why it.
To feel so whole. To feel so sure. But one word. And then one doubt.
What are they saying? what do they want?
What are you saying... what do you mean?
Stand up and fight if you believe, even when you may be wrong. You want it to be true, you believe it's true. Stay firm in what you say. Shove your fear aside. Pull up what little confidence exists and let the words blow blow blow it away. It shatters, it grows. One word, one fault, one doubt. To be strong as steel and unaffected by what you hear despite who you hear it from, to keep believing...
Stupidity?
Why are you putting yourself down?
Inconfidence.
What are you going to do about it?
Try harder.
So why are you scared?
Scared to death.
What are you afraid of?
Afraid of being wrong.
Why?
Because...
You believe...
I believe... but half a mind tainted with doubt does not make a belief...
You see...
What you have to understand is...
I am only one half.
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| Yay |
| 05.20.04 (9:02 pm) [edit] |
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FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
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| Memories of Prom |
| 05.18.04 (12:41 am) [edit] |
I swear, the two necklaces on my neck are always tangled with eachother. My necklace and the necklace Frank gave me last week. I actually had to take them off this morning and practically tear them away from eachother. They just wouldn't freaking split. Symbolic, anybody?
Everyone's been bugging me about prom pictures and I guess I regret not taking them now, but I was so caught up in the moment with Frank, I really didn't care about getting the pictures taken. Actually, I don't regret it too much, cause we were having fun and we were spending time together, and I wouldn't sacrifice a few minutes of that for anything, except for more minutes, if that makes sense. (But a picture would've still been nice.) Ah well. My advice to everybody - GO TO PROM! It is fun shit. If you have friends. Or if you don't have friends, you should have a boyfriend. But don't go with somebody you don't know very well, cause then freak dancing becomes awkard and prom is just kinda like, "Cooool, whatever." AND DON'T GO EARLY! Or you'll feel like a loser, because no one showed up until at least half an hour into it. I secretly wanted to be fashionably late but some friends were paranoid about traffic, so we got there really early, and it kinda sucked.
But me and Frank were the first people on the dance floor, if I remember correctly, and nobody else would dance with us so it was just us two being idiots for a few minutes - well, me being an idiot and tripping in my heals from bouncing around, therefore making him look bad too. ^^
All the things you see in the movies, they really do happen. Now that I think about it I'm practically living my own fairytale. You see that sexy tall dark guy in a tux dipping his girl back into a sweet kiss in the middle of the dance floor, that was us. The couple holding eachother by the window, that was us. The two people walking around together all the time, that was us! And I fell asleep in his arms in the limo and I woke up to his soothing voice calling my name, and at that moment I wanted to ask, why are you so perfect...?
So yes... prom was fun (because Frank was there), and it was also the night of our one-year anniversary. My corsage was murdered and my hair was totally destroyed by the next morning. And there is a small rip at the bottom of my dress too, actually. But wow, what a night...
Why I'm rambling about prom, I'm not quite sure...
I guess I just love thinking about Frank. Because... I love Frank.
I am not finished talking about prom yet, dammit!!!
This is to be continued.
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| Time Egg |
| 05.11.04 (6:20 pm) [edit] |
Wheee... I'm just sitting here listening to Chrono Trigger music. It's good stuff. I spent the last four days with my boyfriend and I had the most wonderful time. I wish he could stay here forever... When I go to college and turn 18 and get out on my own and everything I'm gonna pile up everything I have and go see him, hopefully by the end of this year. I miss him so much. The more time I spend with him the more I'd love to spend my life with him, and I know I'm only 17, but you can't stop a girl from feeling what she does, and I can't help it.
I hope he gets home safely... awaiting his phone call. I love you so much, Frank.
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| Why I Hate Being Addicted To MP3s |
| 05.05.04 (4:29 pm) [edit] |
So, I've sold 78 copies of my CD, and I've collected 390 dollars for charity. I feel so... charitable. I was real fired up about it at first but now I'm so tired, manually designing and printing and cutting and shopping for supplies to produce 78 CDs by hand is a bitch. A real bitch. And it cost like 130 dollars to produce all of those, so really, I'm only getting 260 dollars out of all this.
THIS is why production companies exist, dammit!
I've always felt kinda bad about downloading MP3s illegally but it was no big deal, I'd do it anyways. But sadly I now can really understand how the artists getting pirated might feel. I would be so FUCKING PISSED OFF if somebody ripped a song off my CD and freely distributed it, cause I worked so hard to make this CD, and suddenly I'm not getting anything out of my hours, days, years put into it. It's like working under the promise of being paid, and suddenly they don't pay you, and it turns out they just took advantage of what you've already done for them.
Moral of the story, if I ever get famous, I will kill you if you rip me off.
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